Ten years ago I read an article in a Futurist magazine about change. The premise was that the way we experience change is, well, changing. Writing in 2005, the author stated that by 2025 what we now think of as change will by 2025 not even register on our change radar as a change at all
Then and now this both excites and frightens me. In 2005 I thought, what will change look like in in 2015? Or in 2025? Will I see it as it happens?
Now here I face 2015 trying to pinpoint specific elements that describe the difference between then and now. And I find myself quite vague about how the phenomenon of change has changed in the past ten years. I can describe things that HAVE changed, but how change has changed? Impossible?
Maybe we are like the frogs in the pot on the stove, unable to witness the incrementally rise of the heat of the water. How can we witness the changing of change? I’m not certain I’m qualified to say.
So In the beginning of this next ten years I’m looking for ways to measure, or at the very least, be more aware of the pace change.
My friend says that the only way to see change is by comparing things to others that do not change.
My father used to say of a person who was moving too slowly for his patience, that you’d need to draw a line on the floor so you could see if the man was moving. I inadvertently discovered that I had drawn a few lines of my own.
My life has become increasingly fast paced. We all talk about it, and probably like most other people, I’ve searched to find ways to streamline my life, to become more efficient, and to quit worrying so much at all that just doesn’t seem to get done.
Perhaps, partially to counteract the speed of my life outside the studio, I have found myself more and more deeply immersed in my work as an artist. Daily I set aside hours that I don’t have to work on artwork and to maintain my succulent and cactus garden. Both things I experience in real time. I can’t hurry my work and I can’t make plants that by their very nature grow slow, grow faster.
I found it very useful when a friend began to document the incremental progress of my work, and at the same time, the incremental changes in my plants, many of which I’ve taken care of for more than a decade. The changes that happen in each arena are only seen by the recording difference. And, as the years have slipped by, I see that I have to draw a line in order to better see the advance of change. In ten years I’ll be 70 years old. I suspect that the decade between 60 and 70 will bring a lot of change. Wide open at the start, I find myself excited to see how my studio work will progress and certainly more interested than ever in the developing of my garden.