Passion Portrait: Life is an Open Book

“One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.” -Henry Miller

Desk Globe

I’ve never known my loving father to be without a book in hand. Or at least with a book close by. In particular, he’s always been passionate about reading history and biographies. These stories that make up the fabric of our human community; our collective story. His interest in the genre was first piqued early in high school, when from his grandfather’s vast library, he found an original account of the sinking of the Titanic. The details, descriptions and sheer drama of the event in its retelling had him hooked. That led to borrowing more of his grandfather’s books – on Teddy Roosevelt, European history, English history, geography, anything. And when he joined the service a few years later, he made it a habit of buying any books he could find, wherever he was. History, of course, but classic literature, too. He’d steal away in the little free-time military life lent him so that he could devour them.

BookBinding

This passion developed into a profession – after graduate school, he taught high school history and government for over 30 years…and is still teaching now in retirement. Today, I’m sharing his passion portrait, and three things he’s taught me about the importance of inspecting history – and why it holds such power for him.

1. Our history will never be complete. And that’s why you must keep reading.

History is innately incomplete and rarely objective. Of course, it may be penned by the victors, which can be obvious in its slant. It can also be written by the most careful of researchers decades or centuries later, and yet important subtleties and complexities will have been lost to the sands of time. But instead of being frustrated by possible inaccuracies and omissions, we should lean into them. Because only when we read as much as possible can we get the full view. It’s like a kind of game – how much of the puzzle can you fill in? As my dad says, “Nothing is represented as it happened. It’s fuzzy and messy. But the more you read, the more the picture comes into focus.”

glasses and book

2. Surprises await the curious mind.

So history will never be complete. But at the same time, more stories are coming to light all the time. Which can bring fascinating surprises if you have an open mind and know where to look. Recently, my dad told me a story about a book he read on Zebulon Pike and westward expansion. It had provided a much more nuanced account of the relations of trappers, traders and Native American tribes along the Mississippi River in post-Revolutionary America. Challenging the typical narrative of the time, this book showed that these parties changed alliances multiple times, so much so that there were no real “sides”. The speed and audacity with which agreements were broken was surprising. It seemed their behavior was based more on an individual’s business needs than anything else. It is a small, but surprising insight about how humanity is often driven by what’s good for someone right now. And when you learn a surprising nugget about our past, it makes you to wonder…what else don’t we know?

3. Be in the moment.

How can history teach you to be in the moment? Again, my dad –

“One thing you discover is that in every instance, multiple people had to make decisions. And those decisions always have consequences – some expected,  some unintended. So studying history makes you very aware of the cause-effect relationship. You take that awareness and can’t help but apply it to life. To examine the moment you are in. To be in it. And when you understand where you’re at, you yield to a certain openness.”

Reading hobby

I love that. To be open and truly alive in the moment. That is the way I hope to live. And Cider & Black is my way of working toward it. I’m so grateful for your life lessons and to share your passion, dad. And I’m so happy to give both to the world.

xoxo Jen

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Passion Portrait: Creative Collaboration

The creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualifications and thus adds his contribution to the creative act.

– Marcus Aurelius Antonius

In creative arts – visual, musical, etc., there’s pivotal, transformative moment in the creative process. After you’ve built something with your technique, your perspective and your soul, you then release it out into the world. This is the moment that a conversation has started. And hopefully, a connection. One that would have been impossible otherwise.

My brother, Dave has always been outgoing. So when he turned to the guitar in his youth (about 8th grade or so) his sociable nature held true. He had sung in a few bands and was energized by that feeling- the jolt of adrenaline from creating something from nothing, collaboratively. It’s a different feeling from solo creative acts. It’s similar, but heightened. He knew he wanted to have that feeling the rest of his life, and so, he needed to learn an instrument so hopefully, he could just keep playing. Punk music was his turning point.  It seemed somehow simpler, more accessible than metal or other kinds of music. It felt possible. So he played. And played.

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In fact, he’s never stopped playing since those middle school days. He’s been in bands for more decades than he’d like me to say, he’s traveled the world, and has made a career of playing.

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So how did an idea in the 8th grade come to be his life’s work? Dave explains, “There’s something about performing and creating with others. When everyone is playing the technical parts as they should, then add the stage, and the energy from each other, and it’s transcendent. It feels like a different state of being.”

What a perfect summary for the primary purpose of any creative art. It is to transcend our everyday. It should communicate and connect with other humans on a different level.  And everyone – the artist and the audience – should be changed for having had the experience.

Dave continues to play every day, without fail. And he now shares his passion and gifts with youths (some of them 8th graders!), inspiring them to find their own musical prowess. This is his portrait.

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Passions may start with you alone, but they can become more fully formed when shared with others. Thanks for sharing yours, Dave. Love you!

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Passion Portrait: The Sweetest Sound

“Listen to your drum and your drum only. It’s the only one that makes the sweetest sound.”

– Simon Sinek

My dear friend and sister-in-law Adrienne listened to her heart and began drumming when she was 17, had a bit of a pause in early adulthood, and in the last six months, has found her way back to it. She started playing because she was naturally drawn to the drums and impressed by players like Stuart Copeland of the Police.

But what does she appreciate most about it? “I like the meditative state I’m transported to while drumming. I enjoy the physical challenge, and I love playing with other musicians.

Plus, playing the drums is about the only thing I can think of where it’s socially acceptable to hit inanimate objects repeatedly,” she says, jokingly. If that’s not a transportative experience, I’m not sure what is!

Passionately devoted, Adrienne now drums daily. This is her portrait.

Drum Portrait 2

Cider & Black celebrates all times around the table – nourishment, fellowship, creation and play. The table is more than a dinner locale; it is the prime workspace for our jobs and our passions. The Passion Portrait series is an examination of the objects and tools on our tables that bring those passions to life. These are the activities that drive us, teach us and help us grow, wholeheartedly.

Drum parts

Passions start as a piece of a rhythm in your heart. You make them whole by taking action to follow the beat. How appropriate then, to open my photo post series Passion Portrait with the strike of a drum. Thank you, Adrienne!