Thoughts to share, ideas to ponder

My son, when viewing the photos of a recent trip to northern Europe and examples of some of the amazing art we saw in the Hermitage and Russian museums in St. Petersburg and the Rijks Museum in Amsterdam, commented, "We just don't have the patience for that kind of thing now".  Is it patience or is it time that we lack?
Close up of tile mosaic portrait at the Russian Museum in St. Petersburg

Maybe it's both but I know I could be more patient if I didn’t feel the ever-present sense of time flying and thus, the need to hurry.  I was incredulous when I saw this tile mosaic at the Russian Museum in St. Petersburg....humbled at the skill, incredulous at the patience, amazed at the time the artist required to execute such a masterpiece.

Most of us of have had the experience of ‘time standing still’ as we are absorbed in a creative task and I think the notion of patience doesn’t really have a place in this context, and the concept of time is altered.  The ancient Greeks had two words for time, chronos and kairos.  Think of chronos as quantitative and kairos as qualitative.

A more expanded definition of the two come from the blog of Steve Chapman, “Time to Think about Time? A chronos versus kairos perspective of corporate life.” : "Kairos time is simply the length of an experience required to make new meaning of that experience.  We experience moments of kairos in  a similar way to which we experience a musical phrase as a whole and not a sequence of individual notes separated by seconds.  The way I understand it, the difference between the two is that chronos time is informed by the passing of seconds, whereas kairos time is informed by the emergence of meaning."

Recognition of the passing of time in hours, minutes and seconds and wanting to be productive and “on time” (a chronos orientation) juxtaposed with the desire to have a child-like presence in each moment where we can be caught up in wonder and ignore the clock, slow down, and enjoy the possibilities and meaning of the present moment (a kairos orientation) can explain the tension that we experience in every day life.

That tension is fueled by access to smart devices....and, I say that as one who has a smart device and feels that constant tension. 

But what is this tension?

The creative work of an artist requires quiet, requires solitude, and requires a suspension of awareness of chronological time.  All three are seriously hampered by access and connectivity afforded by smart devices.  Now add to the mix why we need to be connected:  I read about one artist I admire, Anna Rose Bain, who chose not to attend evening events at a prestigious art conference experienced "FOMO: Fear of Missing Out".  To be an effective creator, one must dissolve into a reality where chronos fades and kairos reigns but that just about guarantees the experience of FOMO. Our lower brain fears kick in at the prospect of being left out of things, something that is less likely if we have one foot (so nicely and easily fostered by smart devices) in the milieu of society, family, news, and the other foot, sort of, into our work.

Furthermore, the assault of information afforded by electronic access, while fueling creative thought on one hand, can overdo the brain sizzle, rendering the creative person a deer in the headlights when it comes to really focusing and slowing down and thinking his or her own thoughts.

The net result is tension and a low (or high) level of anxiety.

How to foster a brain “re-boot” and a sanctioning of the validity and value of turning it off, and dissolving into that very vital kairos experience? Exercise, journaling, meditation, turning off the smart devices, putting self-imposed lock-downs on access to the internet via those devices, are all the usual suggestions.

But, just as valuable: experience the jolt of awe that comes when viewing epic art in person at a major art museum or European church!  These are sacred spaces for not only beholding great works of art but as a powerful reminders of a time when being hurried by the clock was of lesser importance than creating something of beauty and quality first, with a time schedule as a secondary variable, if it was a variable at all.

The voices of these artists, by virtue of their work, seem to implore:  “Allow yourself to be caught up in meaning, in making something beautiful, and of the highest quality, with kairos moments rather than chronological time, as your meter.”

And again, as stated above, think of chronos as quantitative and kairos as qualitative. Artists are often asked, "How long did it take you do to do that?" This is always a hard question to answer because the experience of creating the art from start to finish for the artist is much more qualitative than quantitative.

Although I am bowled over by the time and patience expended by the mosaic artist shown at the beginning of this blog, my reaction is based on the totality of a much greater experience...one where beauty and quality--those hard to define traits--leave a viewer mute and moving to the next question: "How long did that take?".

Chronos logic would find it hard to justify getting lost in the nuanced transitions of tone and temperature with little pieces of tile to create such a portrait. The kairos experience--where time stands still-- invites it, welcomes it, expects it, enjoys it.