Telephone in the Park, Hayward, CA
Last night I was tinkering with some of my photos on Photoshop while my husband was playing his fav video game on his computer. I've been posting some pics on my FB page and I went into my husband's mancave to ask him what he thought. Needless to say, he pointed out something in the photograph that I didn't intend to be there. I tilt-shifted and twirled ~ happy in my own little world with my trippy hues. I called the piece, Call from Timothy Leary, an ode to the expanded mind. As Leary and Marshall McLuhan used to say, "Turn On, Tune In, and Drop Out." I am seeking to be more conscious. Drug free though and high on art. High on life. As such, last night I was totally in Csikzentmihalyi Flow, but didn't see the unintended art around me.
So I wonder ~ Is there an art to mistakes? McLuhan posited, "The medium is the message," but what do you do when the medium is the miscommunication? Do you fix the medium to alter the message and filter it again so that the viewer's filter can't read unintended (or perhaps unconscious) messages? Mindfulness. That is what I want.
But whose mind? Yes, I want my own mindfulness. My quirky mind. But it seems like sometimes the arts trigger multiple mindfulnesses. Or maybe I am becoming more aware of these multiple mindfulnesses as I pixelate my pallets. Perhaps it is like Carl Jung's Collective Unconsciousness? With archetypes tuned in, I wonder, is art like a game of telephone that we used to play at our school's lunchroom tables? Whispers ~ where messages start off one way then alter ~ a sort of sensory splicing of lovely fragments. Perhaps Jung was on to something with his Archetypes? Archetypes as filters ~ Maybe each mind has fluctuating filters through which messages pass through where analogues become tilt-shifted and blurred? Ah-ha! Streams of consciousness ~ Obstensively unedited.
Mutated. Mistakes and Mishaps ~ What do we do with them? And how do we deal with the art of miscommunication when it does not fit into the schema of ourselves in everyday lives? Being a school teacher, I don't think I'd want to share some of my unintended art with folks that don't know me. They may get the wrong idea. Some folks are so judgy. Thankfully, I have a husband who can make me laugh in the midst of miscommunication and marvelous mistakes! Here's to embracing happy mishaps!