20241204

There's something distinctly American in a blank canvas and a pile of wooden blocks. Something less Wolf of Wall Street, and more Sarah, Plain and Tall.

Japanese and Swedish cultural expression both feel (to me!) like they run through a lens of respect for the aliveness in the materials themselves. Japan's traditional animism directly addresses the personhood of each thing, and of each class of thing: the radish spirit is my favorite example, of course, of course. :) Swedish sensibilities... well, I'll speak to my upbringing: the threads coming in through Sweden feel less like honoring the spirit of each thing and more like we are all seated at the same table, working together. It's less a spirit (whoops) of mutual veneration, and more a spirit of mutual labor. Survival, maybe? Finding a seat of personhood in the labor of survival?

American cultural expression... is found in the process of assembly, I think — of plugging something from that place into something from that other place, and seeing what happens. It's less "melting pot" and more... Frankenstein? But in a peaceful, curious way? Like a blank canvas and a pile of wooden blocks.

If the core blindness-vs-insight tension in Japan (if I may egregiously over-generalize) is (.......), and if Sweden's is (.......), it feels to me like the American tension is in a blindness to the reflection of the self in the materials themselves, versus the insight for the same.

The misandry of it shows up whenever we (Americans) try to create a self-portrait out of materials, any materials at all, and when we then hate the resulting portrait. Whether we consciously hate the materials themselves, doesn't matter, the materials feel it. And every form of America is assembled from the pieces of America, any censure of the assembly damages the moral carried by each piece — and it shows in the next recomposition. (I use "misandry" here less to mean men and more like worker drones in a beehive. Our derision of the work of the drone is damaging to the drone, which is damaging to the work of the drone. What were we thinking?)

The redemption mechanism that's paired (mated?) with this glitch occurs when we identify with the paint, and not the portrait. Do you feel the relief in that? To see yourself in the paint, and then to lift your brush (!!!), is to enter into the dance as you are, the possibility of failure forgotten as we behold the wonder of emergent expression, where every outcome is a happy accident. There's no risk, in this. So, what, the portrait you paint ends up lopsided? Hilarious. You are the paint, doubling over in laughter. You can wear the portrait as a mask for a joke, if you want, but the standard was never realism. (What would that mean, anyway?)

When you're smiling, when you're smiling, the whole world, it smiles with you

When you're laughing, oh babe when you're laughing, the sun comes shining through

But when you're crying, you bring on the rain So stop that sighing, come on and be happy again

Keep on smiling, 'cause when you're smiling, baby, the whole world smiles with you :)

This song (Sinatra) has always felt like a plea to me. I am listening!