Friday, August 7, 2009

You can still see without an I...

If you’ve ever been to South Beach in Miami during the swelling days of summer the adventure reaches beyond a single central line of normal life on American soil. The distant crash of water in wave form shaking hands with sands that have waited quite possibly a hundred years to make their way back across the Atlantic ocean combined with the scent of sound accented by dance rhythms that penetrate your nearest touch steal from the sky the colors of a rainbow and place it in the scrapers called condos which give dreamers a place to dive.


On the opposite side of the page rests an always playful Hollywood where weekends begin on Thursday but Saturday nights never flourish until 3 am. Being on time is a waste of time and glamour resembles a chapter ripped from the book of Nirvana and Pearl Jam because Grunge has never left the only place on earth where being totally whacked out different will score you a role on a sitcom or low budget film.


The experience…


If you’re like me, you’ve been there done that and if we can’t do it again then where is Bill Gates and Nintendo to reinvent the wheel? Thanks to cheap computer parts, commercialism and the full right to fight for a great party no American walks about on any given day without having experienced something, anything that makes what we’ve cultured great.


To experience is to live. Stand five minutes in front of your child and through their untrained visions they’ll see more than your mommy and daddy name tag. Upon the travels they’ve not yet reached and through your every level of excitement, disappoint or dreams that may one day come true…you are Experiencer.


Write your name at the top of a clean sheet of paper…below it, pen out single lines of everything you are and have done.


Arroe Collins:

Writer, poet, short story, long form, spirituality, murder mystery commercial producer, on air radio talent, best friend of my dentist cuz he sees me twice a year for cleanings, dog lover, rescuer of seven so far, birds are my jazz blah blah blah…


Every experience comes with three ingredients: A sense of perception, a mental image and emotion. Each of my identifications can be cut into several pieces, the published poet, writing teacher, realist tree hugger, master of the word dump.


All writers have a sense of perception, “Wow a book in a real store!” The mental image is far greater than walking into a Barnes and Noble and noticing the same book has been sitting there for six months. Emotionally its hard to digest which shuts off your creative flow.


That recently happened to me in New Orleans—a new art gallery opened in the historic district, the owner loves my paintings of “Charleston.” Not New Orleans but Charleston. The concept of inviting the future to step forward to create a new history fed their fantasy until it came time for Louisiana art collectors to purchase.

Zilch…nothing, boom! Pow! Ka-blewy!

So what did the owner do? They emailed a letter that simply stated, "Give up your efforts to invite others to see your vision. From the colors of acrylics you’ve selected to the style of frames that border your paintings you have failed in New Orleans as an artist.”


No argument…but there was a rebuttal.

I called the gallery and professionally said, “Mr. and Mrs. Blank Blank are coming to your incredible showroom in the next couple of days. I do not know them but they are to take the paintings for free.”


Display your art so you can learn how to ignore criticism.


You, your parents, neighbors, coworkers and pain in the rear boss are the Experiencer. Through consciousness you have lived life. Once identified, it becomes an object and that’s where the trouble begins—the knower versus the known. Introducing the world of I, I, I, me, me, me.


Being an “I” has no form. Experience is timeless. Once you’ve attached “I” to it…it’s been dated and signed.


An intern recently pointed out her disappointment in radio by saying, “There aren’t any clocks in this building! I never know what time it is.”


Looking around the room to which we stood the attempt was to locate a positive based on reasons that could be understood, “If you never know what time it is, a creative project never feels like it’s been rushed.”


Be it a quick visit to the beach, up to the mountains, back home to Bread Basket USA or sewing a button on a three year old shirt that should’ve been dumped before you left the mall store, the greatest impediment we face daily, hourly and second by second is the discovery of inner space. Therefore are we truly experiencing or just labeling?


Growing up in Montana meant winter days blessed with 42 degree below zero temperatures that glued your nose shut. One day the ice skating rink at Optimist Park called to the referees of life in a way of challenging the everyday playbook…it just wasn’t fair people were staying away. The wind chill factor was at an extremely dangerous 57 below…it became an adventure to layer up the clothes four thick and experience what it would be like if there was a nuclear attack. How would the body react? You do these stupid things in Montana not because we’re boneheads and freaks but when your home state features a town whose motto is Missile City USA…you can’t help but wonder, “What if?”


Get to know your Experiencer and start sharing the stories without saying I, I, I…


arroecollins@clearchannel.com

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