What if?

I watched Julie Burnstien’s TED talk this morning on four lessons of creativity.  The four lessons, in a nutshell, are to pay attention to the world around us, to push against the limits of what you think is possible, that creativity comes out of what’s difficult, and to embrace loss. Also, creativity is essential not only to artists, but to all work that we must do. Above is one of the images Burnstein shared in her talk. It is a Japanese tea bowl, 100 years old, the original crafter's fingermarks still on the simple pinched vessel. At some point the bowl broke, and the person who reassembled it chose to use a gold medium to show the imperfection rather than hide it. The cracks have made this more beautiful. A perfect metaphor for all of us in our endeavors to be our best. Our flaws are what makes us original. But this isn't the lesson I want to dwell on.

Julie Burnstein told the story of how sculptor Richard Sera, as a young painter living in Florence, went to see the painting Las Meninas by Velazquez and realized that he couldn’t paint that picture.  Sera embraced his limitations, threw away his paintings, moved to New York and started listing verbs:  to roll, to crumple, to fold, and many others.  He then started doing these things to different materials.  His verb, “To lift” gave rise to this sculpture, "To Lift".

Richard Serra. “To Lift,” 1967. Vulcanized rubber. 36 x 80 x 60 in. Courtesy David Zwirner Gallery. Photo: Peter Moore © 2013. Richard Serra/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

Sera’s  work reminds me of Cristo’s work.  Their work seems to start with the question “what if?”

Richard Serra, Inside Out, 2013, Weatherproof steel 158 x 982 x 482 1/2 inches, Shot before delivery to this exhibition venue: Richard Serra/New Sculpture, Gagosian Gallery, West 21st Street NY, NY, October 26- February 8, 2014 Photo by Lorenz Kienzl

Christo, Valley Curtain, Rifle, Colorado, 1970-72.

12,780 square meters of nylon, cables, and rope  

Running Fence, Sonoma and Marin Counties, California, 1972-76.200,000 square meters of nylon, steel poles, and steel cables

Christo and Jeanne-Claude Surrounded Islands, Biscayne Bay, Greater Miami, Florida, 1980-83 Photo: Wolfgang Volz © 1983 Christo

The phrase “What if” has gotten a bad rep.  People think of it as a phrase we use when contemplating the past and feeling regret:  What if I moved when I had the chance?  What if I went to art school?  What if I never ___________?  But “What if?” can also be a way to tease out creativity and other things we want in life.

"What  if" can bring structure to each day:

What if I accomplished one small project per day?  What project would I do today?

It can bring exploration:

What if I brought the kids swimming some place new today?

What if we biked up this road to find out where it leads?

"What if" can make us happier:

What if instead of being offended I laughed?

What if instead of saying “sorry” I said “thank you.”

What if I go into my 8am-2pm meeting tomorrow with the satisfaction of doing important work instead of remorse that I am going to be inside during a beautiful day?

"What if" can lead us to better health with a sense of exploration and inquiry instead of heavy-handedness:

What if I ate 6 servings of vegetables today?

What if I drank only two cups of coffee?

What would that be like?  What would I feel like?

"What if" can also push us to follow our dreams:

What if I found funding for my project?

What if I wrote a business plan?

What if I stop waiting for it to happen, and make it happen? What if I commit to my dream? What if I give up security and was brave enough to move past my fear of having to hussle for grants and investors? What if I stopped playing small?

And if I fail, I will think of the Japanese pot, more beautiful for its flaws than a featureless, smooth vessel.