Made For TV

I have a painting of London’s Tower Bridge that I spend a fair amount of time looking at. It’s in a room of our loft that, well, I’m in more than a few times a day and occasionally for longer stretches (hot baths and hair drying being two reasons). Whenever I let myself get lost in that painting I’m there, physically lost myself. 

We took a trip to London a few years back and every moment made me realize how much getting out into the world turns me on, makes me vibrate from the core of my being and also calms me down as I see the world large around me, yet small because of the many people I meet that are like me.

Good stories can do just that: turn us on, cause us to vibrate, calm our senses.

However, I think we’re putting too much energy and emotion into consuming story and not enough of either into creating the story. I’m not speaking about the book you’ve always wanted to write or the play, or the web-series you long to produce and/or star in or the podcast burning through your brain. Yes, those are a necessary creation of the story and they matter, and people like me especially, need them because that’s how I make my living – telling those stories to the world. But for this moment, I’m referring to each of us extracting ourselves from the digital platforms we all happily consume, comment and criticize and instead go out! Go out and live a story, even one as simple as visiting a part of town you never visit to find a new place you’ve never been.

Made for TV is just that. It is something made for a static, stationary box (or screen of your choosing) that draws you in and keeps you static and stationary too. My painting of Tower Bridge allows me movement into my memories of that trip and what it was like to walk across that bridge, and how I always want to have adventures like that one, whether on a global scale or local. My stories allow me entry into my own creative life that is both interesting and compelling among many other things.

And so, on this stunning Sunday with the sunshine beckoning me to unplug and move outside, I consider that without common stories, we have no common ground. And, in my opinion, it is impossible for me to understand the world I live in if I am only consuming it and not taking every opportunity to be a part of the creation of it.