Alienation

Edward Hopper captured loneliness like no other artist before him. Yet, his paintings don’t feel sad, there’s a contemplative quality to them that is remarkably beautiful.

Making art is often a lonely endeavour. It’s also a career choice that always entails being misunderstood. Unless you satisfy the crowds — namely, via money and fame — you won’t fit in. Oftentimes, it’s hard to feel accepted even amongst family or friends. You’re not normal, so mostly you’re accepted/tolerated under the category of the strange or unusual. Even when your art or name is accepted— i.e you’re considered a “success” — it’s often only superficial adulation tied to the product and its associated symbols, whatever that maybe. Yes, the modern world really is this shallow and amoral. And this, too, is hard to accept at times. But every artist already knows this and yet, I don’t think we can choose another path. Would you rather live the life of someone who blindly chases common ideals and all that that entails?

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.” —  from Shakespeare’s Macbeth

So the question becomes how do you endure? How do you stay true to yourself and engage in a world that seems to leave you out? I think it comes back to agency. There’s only so much you can control. And you focus on that. These are the things that you have agency over:

  1. where you direct your attention
  2. what action you choose to take
  3. the attitude you have

In other words, how you conduct yourself will determine your experience. But in a world seemingly gone mad with digital distraction, political division and pervasive greed and narcissism, we can often feel helpless to choose and design our own lives. Most of us struggle in making decisions, especially the big picture stuff. We don’t know where to start. And, like most everyone else, we’re scared of change. We’re scared of sacrificing one thing for another, especially when the “other” is both a hope for something better and the potential to lose whatever little we may currently have. We feel trapped between our known alienation and the unknown consequences of change.

“The reason we feel alienated is because the society is infantile, trivial, and stupid. So the cost of sanity in this society is a certain level of alienation.”
― Terence McKenna

How do we free ourselves from our dilemma? The answer lies in knowing what we must do; it’s about knowing our priorities. Years ago, I made the tough decision to choose a commitment to personal art and principles over the comfort and financial security of staying in the corporate film and animation industry. I made a similar decision after a brief career in commerce many years earlier. What I found then was the same as what I found now, that what I gave up in material wealth and social security — and I did lose many friends and connections — I gained in mental and physical health; more importantly, I gained my autonomy as a human being. I also found my own style of work and a commitment to a life I believe that fosters, if not greater meaning, at least less pointlessness. Plus I got to help many young people along the way during my transition as I passed along my knowledge and skills to the next generation of animation artists.

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness… the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.” — William Hutchinson

This could only happen because I gave myself space to breathe and think. We must stop before we go. I stopped rushing and I stopped trying to satisfy the world around me. I no longer wanted to be occupied with the trivial, which was anything that no longer belonged in my life. The brain can’t operate properly in occupied territory. A constantly busy brain full of chatter, fear and egoistic entanglements prevents honest and authentic living; it prevents an existence that carries meaning in the moment and genuine joyful satisfaction.

“Attachment is the great fabricator of illusions.” — Simone Weil

It may seem ironic, but we need to stop thinking for intelligence to foster, in order to progress forward in life. And forward is the only way we can live. Our bodies inherently know this. I suspect this is where the desire for a vacation comes from — the necessity to vacate into open space away from all the noise and busyness. Only a calm and quiet mind is open and free enough to see and listen with accuracy and clarity. Then we can make good decisions like where to direct our attention and how to take the right steps in terms of action. This is true in making art and in living.

No vision, no art. Thumbnail sketches of Michigan J. Frog by Chuck Jones show his foundation for exploration and preparation.

So, before you can even direct your attention to the right place — and because there’s so much competition for it in a world where propaganda is the central means of social change — you must first make mental space. Space is secluded time. Secluded time is time that is not focused on anything in particular, free from any idea of gain or loss, free from the spreadsheet of calculated analysis. Make this space for yourself. A bit daily here and there, and then, when you’re ready, setting aside larger dedicated space for deeper, more serious inquiries. Until you can make room for some purposeless and goalless time, your inner self will never get the chance to show you what your next move should be, what the right move needs to be. And remember, this is not a selfish act but one of responsibility. First, be a light to yourself, then maybe, like me, you might also provide a little light for others.

“Nature never rushes, yet everything is accomplished.” — Lao Tzu

Move Slowly and Make Things

Michelangelo’s David in Florence, Italy.

A famous (or rather, infamous) motto from one of the most powerful and influential companies of the modern world is to “move fast and break things.” This says a lot about the kind of culture we have learned to embrace. The near-cultish acceptance of such a belief system simply is incompatible with the make up of our species and the planet’s ecosystem. What is says, in the name of progress and wealth creation, is that we should throw away all traditions and culture — namely, destroying much of the hard-earned knowledge and meaningfulness that took many centuries for mankind to develop. It also disrespects the way of nature and its limited resources, of the way of life of indigenous peoples, of religion and of humanity as a whole. Not only is this incredibly toxic and immoral, it’s downright dangerous. This is how we have end up with so much monoculture, now commonly applied to to everything from agriculture to the arts. It’s why we have a plethora of disposable and garbage products polluting our world today.

A monoculture forest. Is art (and society) also beginning to mirror this travesty?

Furthermore, it also doesn’t take long, once such beliefs are firmly adapted, for most things to lose their diversity and uniqueness; everything begins to look the same, sound the same, taste the same, and feel the same. We don’t have to look very hard to see this is true. Just think of the packaged food at our grocery stores; is this what we call real food? Or what about the endless reboots/remakes of movies and tv shows; is this the limit of our creativity? And because all this is designed to operate at breakneck speed and, aided by the power of propaganda, humanity doesn’t get the chance to question, contemplate or possibly reject this way of living. This is the powerful financialized machine we are contending with. This horrifyling imposition has all been thrust upon us without say or approval. And worst of all it disregards consequences. Biological warfare, nuclear weapons, neoliberalism (financial deregulation), social media and now Artificial Intelligence; the common man never asked for any of these things.

Mark Fisher’s excellent book on the often unseen consequences of modern commoditized living.

“It’s easier to imagine the end of the world than to imagine the end of capitalism.” — Mark Fisher, Writer

A reversal.

Because this is so unhealthy on so many levels, I prefer to adopt the exact opposite motto: “Move slowly and make things.” Why does this work? Well, for one it’s simple so it’s easy to remember. And two, it’s innately human. What has stood the test of time is that things that take time to make tend to provide the greatest value and meaning. This is true whether applied to the individual or to society as a whole. Think of that teacher or relative who generously assisted your becoming, lending you her tireless love and support. Think of all the wonderful scientific inventions and amazing artistic masterpieces that have enlivened our world like the contribution of AC electric power by Nikolai Tesla (who never profitted from it) or the magnificent sculpture of David by Michelangelo (which continues to inspire beauty and wonder to any viewer who stands before it). These great things were not rushed forward but took deep contemplation and years of dedicated passion to make happen.

Recognized as a UNESCO site, Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia, which began construction in 1882, is scheduled to be completed by late 2026. Gaudi never planned to have this magnificent church finished before his death. (photo from my own 2022 trip to Barcelona.)

Applying it on a personal level.

First, stop rushing. Stop aiming to get here or there to achieve any particular thing by some sort of pre-determined time line. It doesn’t work (and it’ll make you sick and miserable). Yes, this maybe how corporations works and how quick wealth might be generated but it doesn’t last. Many people don’t realize that only about 10% of the stock market’s original S&P 500 companies since WWII are still in existence today. That’s not much time, not even a generation. Our lives are shorter than you can imagine. Do you want to spend all of your life — your limited time and energy — on things only to serve a temporary utility? Much of what we do already, just to survive, is often both repetitively shallow and futile. Of the few conscious hours that we might call our own, we must be reminded that they are very precious.

O Me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
— Walt Whitman, Poet