It was an after-work networking event at the Tech Council, held in collaboration with the African American Chamber of Commerce. My husband was going and insisted I come along. I enjoyed seeing their new offices, especially their state-of-the-art sound studio that’s available for members to rent. Several years ago I had created a makeshift sound studio in my closet to record my book, Warrior Mother, so I was impressed. As I walked around the group of business people and technology experts I felt a bit out of place, not sure how to connect. I decided to just start saying hello to people and asking them questions about what they do.
I spent some time with a man who sells insurance, and I learned about the types of training he and his colleagues are currently undergoing to improve their communication skills. I re-connected with a woman who looked so familiar, I knew we had met before, though I wasn’t sure where. Eventually we figured it out and found common interest in the subject of my new book on self-care for caregivers.
It was during exchanging cards with two young women from the business school at the university that the energy of the evening shifted for me. When they asked “How about you?” my years of experience practicing improv took hold. “Me, I’m not a business professional,” I said. “I’m a spy from the art world.” We all laughed together, all three of us surprised by that notion.
Sipping tea in my kitchen the next morning, I was reflecting on the exchange of the night before. A framed picture of two herons that had sat on the counter for years caught my eye. It had been a birthday present from a friend who knew my special relationship to herons. Looking more closely at the frame, I noticed the following message imprinted next to the herons.
What would it be like if you lived each day, each breath, as a work of art in process? Imagine that you are a masterpiece unfolding every second of every day, a work of art taking form with every breath. Thomas Crum
I’m sure I must have read that statement when I received the picture originally but it came as unfamiliar information. I do know I’ve been focused often recently on what it is that makes something an art. Dedication? Loving attention to the details? Respectful manipulation of special skills? Maybe we’re all unrecognized spies from the art world, our lives continually emerging artworks in process.
Do you ever think of yourself as an artist, and your life itself as your artwork?
Make your life of work a work of art –Thomas Crum
Sheila
