What's My Artist Brand?

An On-going Argument

A while back, I talked about my photography journey in a post entitled Why I'm Still Embroiled in the Film vs. Digital Debate. I wanted to write about the film/digital question because that discussion has a tendency to turn nasty when brought up in online forums. I have no idea why. I mean, we're talking about what kind of camera you use to take pictures and make movies, for crying out loud. So many other subjects--child abuse, domestic abuse, drug abuse, war, etc.--deserve a strong emotional response. Film vs. digital? It seems trivial by comparison. So why all the drama?

I think part of the reason is that the film purists tend to come off as a bit snobby when talking about their art form. I can understand why they would have that mindset. After all, photography and filmmaking used to be disciplines reserved for those most dedicated to the craft. Learning to get a good picture (and even more so a good movie) on film was (is) hard work. It doesn't happen overnight. Why? Because when you're using real film you're shooting blind. You don't know if your picture is going to turn out dark or grainy, or if the shudder speed is so slow it results in a motion blur, until you've shot an entire roll of film and taken it for processing. So to do anything professional with the medium, you really have to know your craft. You have to practice. You have to shoot hundreds of terrible photos so you can learn from them and not make the same mistakes again. Then, when you know the workings of your camera inside and out, you can think about going pro.

Not so with digital. If you have a digital camera, you can see the finished image before you shoot. You can adjust and get it almost perfect before you even take the picture. And if the picture turns out terrible? You can immediately delete it and snap another.

Because of all this, I think some film photographers feel they've earned bragging rights that digital photographers don't have.

But why are the digital guys so adamant that we should just let film die? Well, I think they may feel insulted by everything I've mentioned above. But that doesn't mean film should die. It just means digital photographers should fight for their chosen medium. To each his own, right?

Maybe the issue is that some film enthusiasts want to keep harping on all those points, to the degree that digital photographers are made to feel like they have to use film if they want to be "real" photographers. And the digital guys don't want to use film because of the freedom digital cameras give them and because...well...film is expensive and who wants to have to pay as much as a dollar per exposure (depending on what film you're using and how much your lab charges for processing) when digital makes every shot free?

Still, I don't think that is a reason to let film die. It has a different look from digital, especially if we're talking about filmmaking, and that's reason enough to keep it around. Some people will always prefer it and they have the right to create their art the way they want to create it.

Should I Go Digital?

In another post, What I Learned in my First (Semi) Professional Portrait Session in Over 10 Years, I discuss my frustrations with the fact that I can't afford a digital camera. I'm frustrated because if I want to be a professional portrait/event photographer, I can't keep shooting film. First of all, it's expensive, and I'd make more money if I made the switch. And second, clients have come to have certain expectations from a photo shoot. Quite often, they like to see their pictures right away. They want to pay by the hour instead of by the roll and have grown accustomed to a copious amount of shots being taken in that hour. And they've come to expect perfection, which is something a digital photographer can give them because a digital camera tells you immediately if you've messed up a picture. 

In addition, film does not do well in low light, which makes it less than ideal for capturing those candid wedding shots everyone loves.

But should I switch? The thing is, I love film. Especially in movies. When I watch a movie, I notice right away if there are dots dancing in the white part of the screen, and if I see the dots (I'm talking about film grain, if you haven't figured it out) then I enjoy the movie even more. I love the look of a movie shot on 16mm. It reminds me of a lot of the low-budget horror movies from the seventies. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a beautiful (in terms of cinematography) film shot on an Eclair ACL. Then there's The Evil Dead. Ah, The Evil Dead. That great beacon of hope for all amateur filmmakers everywhere. It's truly one of those movies you watch and think to yourself, "If they could do it, so can I!" And it was shot on an Arriflex 16 BL. 

Yeah, I nerd out on cameras a little bit. 

But, the thing is, I nerd out on film cameras. I don't feel the gentle stirrings in my soul when I think about digital. And honestly? Now that I've spent so much time learning the intricacies of real film, if I make the switch, I think it will feel like cheating. 

But the question is, do I need to make the switch? There are still a lot of artists out there shooting exclusively on film. Why can't I be one of them? Why can't I make that part of my brand? There are a lot of reasons, of course. Cost of processing is a big part of it. But, if I ever manage to go pro, all I need to do is charge enough money to compensate for the cost of developing and I'll come out in the black.

So what's a camera nerd to do? Buy a digital camera because it would make achieving my dream of professional photography easier? Or stick with film because it's what makes me unique? And, let's face it, I really do love film.

The Cinematography in Life is Beautiful

Have you seen Life is Beautiful? I highly recommend it. It's a great movie. However, my focus today is not going to be on the merits of its story, its unique treatment of the serious issues it tackles, or the talents of its actors. Today, I'm only focusing on its cinematography.

So have you seen it? If you have, you may have noticed that, when watching it, you feel like you're watching a much older movie, perhaps one from the fifties or sixties, despite the fact that it was made in 1997. Part of this is the acting style seen in the film. The people speak and comport themselves in a way that feels very old-timey, but the retro feel of Life is Beautiful goes beyond that. It looks like an old movie. Why? I can't say definitively, but I have some theories.

Before going any further, I want to refer you to my older posts, What Made 70s Movies Look So 70s, Part 1 and Part 2, in order to understand more fully what I've already learned about the look of older movies.

I had come to the conclusion that older movies looked the way they did because they were shot in Technicolor, while movies made in the 70s and later were shot on color film. So you can imagine how confused I was when I saw Life is Beautiful and felt like I was watching an old movie. Life is Beautiful couldn't have been shot in Technicolor, could it? It is my understanding (and please correct me in a comment if I'm wrong about this) that movies have not been shot in Technicolor since the mid-70s. I know there was something of a revival in the late nineties (around the time Life is Beautiful was made) but, based on things I read, I concluded that the movies utilizing this process were only printed in Technicolor, not actually filmed in Technicolor. And I've watched clips of some of those movies. Pearl Harbor is one. It doesn't look like Life is Beautiful. Pearl Harbor looks like a newer movie while Life is Beautiful looks, well, old.

I needed to know why this was, so I paid close attention to detail while I was watching it, and I noticed some things.

I've already mentioned the acting styles, and that's certainly a big part of it, but it's much more than that.

First, there are the camera angles. The movie utilizes wide, medium, and close-up shots, with very few, if any, extreme wide or extreme close-up shots. Also, when showing the characters, the camera remains approximately at eye-level with the actors, so no high or low shots. That sort of limited camera work is quite common in older movies. At least in older color movies. Film Noir was a bit more creative, but I don't want to get into a discussion of Film Noir here.

Second, the filmmakers seemed to prefer a deep depth of field. This means that everything in the shot is in focus. Even in the close-ups of the characters, the background can be clearly seen. This is a camera technique that is not really in vogue at the moment. Newer movies are all about blurring out the background, or sometimes the foreground. Focus pulls are quite common (and beautiful...I love a good focus pull). Not so in older movies, and not so in Life is Beautiful.

And finally, Life is Beautiful is lit differently from movies of today. Nowadays, natural lighting is quite popular, and studio lighting is stylized to the point of being somewhat reminiscent of Film Noir (I may need to write a post on Film Noir in the near future, I seem to keep harping on it). Life is Beautiful is different. In the studio shots, light spills in from everywhere, even from above. There are shadows, sure, but not deep shadows. There are no dark parts of the frame anywhere in the movie. Even nighttime scenes are bright. Blue in color, yes, but still bright. And the outdoor shots? Well, they all look like they were filmed at three o'clock in the afternoon (can I get a collective groan from any photographers reading this?). No use of the precious "golden hour" in this unique film? Maybe in a couple of scenes, but for the most part the sun seems to be high in the sky whenever the actors are shown outside. I imagine it was through a generous use of reflectors and fill lights that they avoided making this look unflattering to the actors. And, to my recollection, there is no use of backlighting anywhere in the movie. Contrast this to movies of today. It seems that almost everything is filmed at the golden hour now. Backlighting is incredibly popular. Shadows are used to create mood and a sense of realism. 

Now that you've read my thoughts on it, I'll ask again: Have you seen Life is Beautiful? If not, you really should. While you're watching, pay attention to some of the things I've pointed out in this article. And if you have seen it? Go back and watch it again, this time with a keener eye for detail. 

Showing My Age

I think I was in middle school when I started watching reruns of The Smothers Brothers with my parents. I don't remember what channel it came on, but it became a nightly ritual in our home. My parents, of course, were reliving good memories of having watched the show when it was new. I was discovering it for the first time.

Several years later (I was either dating my husband or we were already married, I don't remember), we were all over at my mother-in-law's house. My parents were there as well. I don't remember what the occasion was. I just remember that we were all together. Somehow conversation drifted to a discussion of Bible stories about brothers, and my dad made some quip about Tom and Dick Smothers. I, desperate not to be left out of this lively conversation, quipped right back, "I don't think they were in the Bible." My mother-in-law (who may or may not have been my mother-in-law yet) apparently didn't pick up on the knowing smile I shot my father when I made my joke because she looked directly at me, with that look an older person gives a younger person just before imparting some useful knowledge which the younger person obviously doesn't possess, and said, "That's a joke only us old folks would understand."

I was highly offended.

I've titled this post "Showing My Age", but I'm using the title ironically because I rarely "show my age." And I'm bothered by anyone who, after referencing a beloved song or movie, immediately follows with, "I'm really showing my age here!"

Why? Why does knowing about a specific song automatically date a person? Can't people know about songs that came out before they were born? I certainly do. And I have for a long time.

1989 is the year I turned ten years old. It's also the year my parents decided to go see Paul McCartney in concert. They loved going to concerts, and for some reason they always took me with them. They wanted to take me to see Paul McCartney but remembered the last two concerts they attended, with me in tow, and realized that, if I didn't know any of the songs being performed, I would be miserable. And if I was miserable, I would make them miserable.

Thus began my musical education.

Songs by The Beatles, as well music from Paul McCartney's solo career, played in our house day in and day out for months. My parent's goal was that, by the time we went to the concert, I would know all the songs well enough to sing along to them, which would make me enjoy myself while I was there.

Their evil plan worked. Not only did I enjoy the concert, I became completely obsessed with The Beatles (a fact that got me teased a good deal in school). But I didn't stop with The Beatles. By the time I was in eighth grade I had discovered all the best songs from the sixties and seventies (and a few from the fifties). In ninth grade, I found our local oldies station, and that became the background music for my commute to and from high school and, later, college. While most people my age were listening to...whatever young people listened to in the nineties (I have virtually no memory of the music that was popular during my teen years), I was rocking out to Petula Clark, The Hollies, Sonny and Cher, The Seekers, Buddy Holly, and the list goes on and on.

Showing my age? Well, I'll certainly never show my age when it comes to the music I like. While I have, in recent years, found one or two nineties songs that I've determined are worth listening to (I think Hootie and the Blowfish have a couple that I like) for the most part nineties music leaves me cold. Or, worse, it sounds like the music all the mean girls at school listened to. You know, the girls who made fun of me for liking The Beatles.

It was very frustrating when, as a teen, I would try to talk to someone of my parents' generation about music and they would preface every statement with, "Of course you're too young to know this song..." Why? Why was I too young? Maybe I was too young to remember when the song was new, but the song still exists. Anyone, young or old, can listen to it. There's no such thing as "too young to know a song."

And now? Still not showing my age. You see, I'm now a mom of teenagers and they, unlike me at their age, are into new music. So I listen to it with them. And I'm finding that I like today's music a whole lot more than I will ever like anything that came out of the nineties.

What can I say? I've always been a little weird.

Indie Book of the Month: April 2018

Given to Fly by K. L. Montgomery:

I've known about this book for a long time, but was somewhat wary of reading it based on the first line of the blurb, which says, "Can you break your vow if it's the only way to save yourself?" As someone who cherishes my religious beliefs and who also views marriage as a beautiful thing that's always worth fighting for, I feared this book would be an attack on all the things I hold dear. Not that I don't respect an author's right to tell a story from her own point of view, even if it differs from mine. I just knew that if I read it, I would then feel obligated to review it, and I try very hard to only read indie books if I can give them a good rating. 

I've never been of the camp that views religion as a man-made institution designed for the control of the masses. That's not been my personal experience with the whole church thing. For me, church is a place where I can connect with fellow believers who support me on my walk of faith. And religion itself? Look, I won't claim I know with absolute certainty that the teachings of my church are one hundred percent true, but even if the theology passed down by this religion or that religion turns out to be false, still I don't see the whole thing as one big pack of lies, but rather as a natural outcropping of man's search for the truth and the answers to life's big questions. And the reason there are so many different religions with so many different beliefs? Well, those big questions are hard to answer and we're only human. We can only understand so much. 

Because my faith is so precious to me, it hurts a bit when people want to throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. I'm referring to the attitude that because some religious people are hypocritical or judgmental, even bigoted, then religion, by extension, must be all those things as well. As though God is to blame for the fact that some of his followers are scoundrels. As though there's something wrong with me because I choose to seek God within the walls of a church.

I was afraid that's what this book was going to be. I was afraid it was going to tell me I've been brainwashed by an evil institution that specializes in selling lies for the purpose of mind control.

That is not what this book is.

Rather than an attack on faith itself, Given to Fly is a critique of the hypocrisy often found in Christian social circles. The fact that hypocrisy is one of the biggest problems within the religious community is well-known, even by the members of that community. We all know the temptation to be more self-righteous than we are righteous. We all know the temptation to gossip about our fellow man. We all know at least one group of judgmental little church ladies who look down their noses at everyone else. This book calls out communities of faith for those behaviors, and I think that's a good thing. People need to be aware of the damage they often do in the name of God.

The book also seems to be something of a critique of the megachurch culture so prevalent in modern Christianity. Listen, I'm not going to criticize anyone's chosen form of worship. If people find God in a megachurch, good for them. However, that particular brand of faith has never been my preference, so the glimpses this book gives into that culture did not bother me. Whether they are accurate or not is not for me to say because, as I said, I don't attend a church like that. 

So I'm giving this book a proud five stars for tackling some serious issues in what I felt was a very sensitive way. I can't say I agree with all the conclusions drawn at the end of the story, but following Annelise on her journey of self-discovery got me thinking about some of those big questions I mentioned earlier, and I appreciate a book that goes that deep into the philosophical and the theological. 

I want to mention that I appreciate Annelise's reluctance to leave her husband when she finds out he's cheating. I know that's an area where some reviewers have taken issue, but I fully understand her point of view. You see, this is her marriage she's fighting for, and she entered into that marriage thinking it was her happily ever after. Thinking it would last forever. That's not an ideal she's going to let go of easily. You don't change your whole worldview and give up on your lifelong dreams overnight, even if letting go of those dreams are what you really need in order to be happy. And confronting her husband about it? Sure, that would have been the right thing to do, but it would also be the scary thing to do. I'm one of the most non-confrontational people in the world. I can't imagine having to go to my husband and tell him I caught him cheating. Heck, I break out into a cold sweat every time I have to call my parents and ask them if they can babysit our dogs when we go on vacation because I'm worried they won't want to do it. A cheating husband? Yeah...my first instinct would be to pretend nothing was happening, just like Annelise does. Though I did want to scream at her to stop trying to get pregnant with her husband's baby. I realize she thinks that's what it will take to save her marriage, and I guess I can understand the fact that, until you actually have kids, you don't realize that, rather than saving a marriage, they are more likely to put strain on that marriage. I've known so many people who seemed perfectly happy together until that bouncing baby came along, then a couple of years later suddenly they're separated. Raising kids is hard, and bringing one into an already damaged home is never a good idea. But how could Annelise know that? She wouldn't. 

I would have liked to see a little clearer glimpse of Annelise's faith. By the end of this book, she makes a decision that goes against everything she's been taught her entire life. I don't think she would make the transition quite as easily as she seems to in this book. I've gone through more than one period of doubt in my own faith journey. Doubt in my fellow Christians. Doubt in the church. Even doubt in the existence of God himself. Going through those doubts is scary. You feel like the very ground on which you're standing is about to be pulled out from beneath you. I would have liked to see a little of that in Annelise's story. It would have made it feel more real to me. 

I also felt the ending was a little too pat. Everything seems to come together perfectly in this beautiful package that's wrapped up all pretty and topped with a neat, red bow. Life doesn't work that way. Life is messy. There are loose ends that sometimes never get tied up. And after everything the characters in this book have been through, it seems that there would be some lingering wounds that will take a long time to heal. 

Nevertheless, this is a great book that really got me thinking about what I believe and why. 

Whatever your personal conviction regarding faith, marriage, family, etc., I encourage you to take a chance on this book. If nothing else, it will get you thinking, and that can't be a bad thing.

Grab your copy here:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Wrestling With Genesis 22

Note: As the name of this website suggests, this post consists entirely of my personal musings and random thoughts. I do not claim to be a theologian with the authority to speak on behalf of any religious organization, and I certainly do not claim to be a prophet with the authority to speak on behalf of God. I am not here to present to you a guidebook on what you should believe. I'm just sharing some things that have been swirling around in my head for the past few days.

The Most Difficult Chapter in the Bible

Genesis 22 is the story of Abraham going, at God's request, up onto a mountain to sacrifice his son Isaac. As a modern Christian, I find this chapter to be one of the most problematic in the Bible. What kind of God would ask a man to kill his own son? And do I want to align myself with a God who would do that? The most common interpretation of this story, one I've heard preached from pulpits and asserted within the cozy confines of Sunday School classes, is that God was testing Abraham's loyalty. To that interpretation, as to the story itself, my first response has always been, "Um...what?" Again, why would God ask a man to kill his own son? 

Yes, the general consensus is the God never intended for Isaac to die. That the ram trapped in the bushes, which Abraham sacrificed instead, was part of God's plan all along. But still...why make the request in the first place? And the idea that it was a test of loyalty...yeah, I still have some issues with that. Looking at it from Abraham's point of view, I wonder why he would want to follow a God who made such unreasonable demands. And looking at it from God's point of view, I wonder why He would want followers who would even consider killing their own children. 

The whole thing has been something of a stumbling block for me for most of my life.

A Quick Story From My Own Life

I'm going to take you into the mind of my teenage self. Get comfortable. You're about to go on one of the strangest journeys through Nerdville you've ever experienced.

I didn't discover Star Trek until the early nineties. I didn't start really enjoying Star Trek until 1994 when Generations was released. When The Undiscovered Country came out a few years earlier, I had been interested in seeing it in the theatre, but I didn't go because I had not seen any of the previous Star Trek movies and could not bring myself to watch them out of order. So I let the opportunity pass me by. The chance to see Generations, however, was not one I was willing to pass up because it was the first movie centering on the characters from The Next Generation, and I had always preferred TNG to the original series. I had to see this movie in the theatre. But I had to watch all the previous installments first. 

So my parents and I had a Star Trek marathon. This was one of the first movie marathons I ever had. In the years that followed, many more were to come, but it all started with Star Trek. You could say it was my first binge-watching experience. 

I began the marathon with the intention of having a greater understanding of Generations. I was not interested in the movies based on their own merit, but only for the insights they could give me regarding the one I really wanted to watch. Honestly, I didn't give a rip about Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. I was watching the movies from a strictly intellectual point of view. I thought of it as a type of historical research. But something began to happen as I continued watching. I fell in love with Spock. It's not surprising. I loved Data on The Next Generation, and Spock was really just another version of Data.

My love for Spock became problematic for me because now I was invested in the original series, but all I had were the movies. I had no access to the original show. Netflix didn't exist back then. DVDs didn't exist back then. Yeah, some TV shows were beginning to be released on VHS, but they were not easy to find. And assuming I could find them, what was I going to do? Buy the entire series? With no more than two episodes per cassette, the full collection would likely have taken up a fourth of my bedroom. Assuming the full series was even available on VHS, which I'm not sure it was. 

I became so desperate to watch the old Star Trek that I actually picked up the TV Guide one day and read it from beginning to end, looking to see if the series was playing on any of my channels. It wasn't. 

I became very depressed about all this. Yes, depressed. What can I say? I was a weird kid. In the diary I kept back then, there are probably thirty pages devoted to my obsession with Star Trek and my despair over the fact that I was unable to watch the original show. Here's an excerpt from one of those entries:

I thought that, surely, someday, everything will even out and we will all be given the things we thought we missed out on. But when? Heaven? Possibly. I held on to this hope happily for a few seconds and then thought, "How can I know what's in heaven? The problems might not actually be resolved. The emotions that go along with them might simply be taken away." This thought bothered me so that I started crying again. I don't yearn and work for something only to forget that I ever wanted it in the end. That would not make me happy. Suddenly I realized that if it could not make me happy, it could not be heaven. Heaven was the main goal, the main thing we work for in life. It is what makes all of life's little trials, and all of the problems and overcome obstacles worth it in the end. And if it really is that, then everything will work itself out, and all of the empty spaces in the heart will be filled, not taken away so that you can no longer feel the pain. My next question was, "is it true? How can I presume to know what is in Heaven?" I had to pray. During this, several images passed through my mind. The first was something from the Bible. "Where your treasure is, there your heart is also."  Many things could be considered treasures. A loved one, a poem, even a pet. My fixation on Star Trek could even be considered a treasure. Heaven was the final reward for the hard test of life. It was the treasure. My heart was there, and there my dreams could be fulfilled. I remembered a phrase of my own, "Anyone can make a person laugh, but it takes a lot to make a person cry." We need our tears, we need to feel sorrow in order to feel happiness. It's no use to search for the gold at the end of the rainbow, only to get there and forget that you wanted it to start with. We all need the things that touch our hearts so deeply and make us cry, so that, when we finally find our goals and our happiness, we can look back and be thankful for it. Without sorrow, there can be no happiness, for there is no standard of comparison by which to judge.

Yes, I was creating for myself a vision of heaven as a place where I could binge-watch Star Trek. Are you still there? Have I scared you away? I told you my teenage mind was a strange place. 

How Is My Star Trek Experience Related to Abraham and Isaac?

I'm not trying to say that I loved Star Trek in the same way that a father loves his child. The point I'm making is that I wrestled with the question of whether God would ask me to give up this thing that I loved, and I came to the conclusion that he would not. In hindsight, I can see that maybe God wanted me to have a healthier attitude toward Star Trek, and I no longer think of heaven as an eternity of Netflix binging, but I still hold on to the notion that God won't ask us to sacrifice the things we love, the things which form the core of our identities, in the name of loyalty. 

I still wrestle with this. I married young and, in my twenties, I chose raising children over having a career. Now I'm in my late thirties and I think a lot about all of the career goals I never achieved because I was busy doing other things. Traditional Christian thought tells us that women should not desire a career. That hearth and home is our domain and we should be content to remain there. And don't get me wrong, I have a deep love for tending the home fires. I like being the one who cooks the meals for my family and who shoulders the primary responsibility for raising the kids. But I do have other dreams, and part of me hopes that one day I can make those dreams come true.

Sometimes, like I did with Star Trek, I let these unrealized dreams take up too much room in my heart. Sometimes I have an unhealthy attitude toward them. I know it's becoming unhealthy when I start moping around the house thinking about all the things I wish I had done with my life rather than enjoying the good things I already have. But developing a healthy attitude about my career goals is not the same thing as giving up on my goals altogether. My love of writing, photography, filmmaking, etc. are part of the fabric from which I was cut. To purge myself of those things completely would be to deny a fundamental part of who I am. Would God ask me to do that? Would He ask me to lay my very identity on the altar the way Abraham did with Isaac? I don't think so.

So What Was God Asking of Abraham?

Again, I'm not a prophet. I don't speak for God. I can't claim that my interpretation of this biblical story is the "correct" one. This is just a thought that has settled in my mind, so I decided to write about it. People may agree with me or disagree, and I'm perfectly fine with that. 

I'm also not an expert on ancient history, so take this with a grain of salt and do your own research if you want to know more, but my general understanding of the ancient world is that many religions of the time centered around the notion of an angry god who needed to be appeased with sacrifices. If this was the culture into which Abraham was born, it makes sense that he would feel compelled to offer up his greatest treasure as an act of loyalty to his God. What if...and this is only a what if...God allowed Abraham to believe this in order to show Him that this was not the kind of thing He would ever demand? So the command to sacrifice his son came not from God but from Abraham's preconceived notions of what religion meant. And God played along right up until the moment of truth because that was the only way to show Abraham the nature of his folly. 

And we can apply it in our own lives when we wonder if God wants us to give up something that makes us happy, just because the culture from which we came has thrust that image of religious devotion onto us.

It's a new way of looking at it, but one which offers a bit more comfort than the typical interpretation. 

What We Love and What We Need

Nourishing the Body

I love sweets. Almost any kind of sweets. Donuts. Pie. Cake. Even bread smeared with jam will suffice in a pinch. I've been known to eat honey from a spoon straight out of the jar. I seem to be genetically programed to crave a little sugar several times a day.

Indulging my sweet tooth gives me pleasure and, if done in moderation, can be a harmless indulgence.

My body, however, will not thrive on sugar alone. For my body to thrive, I need balanced nutrition. That means vegetables and healthy protein. And don't get me wrong, I'm capable of taking pleasure in healthy food. My affinity for sweets doesn't preclude my enjoyment of a nutritious meal. But sometimes...oh, sometimes...sometimes those green peas leave a taste in my mouth that no amount of water will wash away. Sometimes that broccoli smells a little too much like old garbage. Sometimes a raw apple doesn't feel nearly as good in my stomach as it would if I cut it up and cooked it in a pie.

But I still have to eat the healthy stuff. Okay, I don't have to. I'm an adult. I have free will. I can choose to have Reece's Pieces for every meal if I want to. But I don't because I know my body needs that other stuff in order to work properly.

Nourishing the Soul

I am an introvert. I crave alone time just as much as I crave peach cobbler. I'm never happier than when I'm all by myself watching a sunset or immersed in a good book or soaking in fragrant bath water.

But I need more than that in order to thrive as a human being. I need to be a part of a community and have the support that only friends and family can give. To have this, I have to spend time around people. Even when I don't want to. Even when I'd rather stay home and look for a new show to binge-watch on Netflix.

Being around people is kind of like eating vegetables. Sometimes it's pleasurable. Sometimes it's not. Actually, my first instinct is usually to shy away from social situations. I remember getting invited to go out to the movies or the mall or the whatever by friends when I was in high school and I would beg my mom to say I wasn't allowed to go so that I could have an excuse to stay home. Sometimes she would give in to my entreaty, but more often than not she would advise me that it was in my best interests to say yes to the invitation because if I said no too many times, eventually the invitations would stop coming. I still go through this as an adult. Sometimes a group of women I know from the gym will ask if I want to go out to lunch after class and I almost always decline because I'm afraid that being in that situation with a group of people I know only casually will quickly turn awkward. And awkward social situations are scary.

Putting myself out there in that way is not something that comes naturally to me, but it is absolutely vital to my psychological and spiritual health.

The thing is, we all need a community. We all need a circle of loved ones we can count on when times get tough. But in order to have those relationships, we have to work to build them. Even when we don't feel like it. Because you don't get to be a part of a community by just existing close to it. You don't form bonds with people by sitting ten feet away from them and never making eye contact. You can only make those connections when you reach out. When you make the effort. When you force yourself to be a bit more social than your natural inclination would typically allow.

I know probably half of the people reading this will not identify with this post. I think it's one of those challenges unique to us introverts. The point is that sometimes what we really need is something that goes against our natural inclinations. But we have to fight the instinct to back away if we really want to grow into more mature, more complete individuals.

What Gandhi and Michael Jackson Have in Common

Good Advice

My favorite quote is one from Gandhi. "Be the change you wish to see in the world." It's a great quote for two reasons. First, it empowers us. It tells us that if we see something that needs to be done, we should do it. And second, it reminds us that we can't wait for someone else to do it because we can't control another person's actions. 

Michael Jackson's advice to "start with the man in the mirror" is really saying the same thing. Don't wait for someone else to do the work that needs to be done. Do it. And don't wait for the world to be perfect because it never will be. Go ahead and start working on yourself. Strive to become the person you wish everyone else would be. 

Living our Ideals

We all have ideals, right? We all have values. We all have an idea of how we think everyone else should live. But, the thing is, we can't force other people to live by our values because their values may be different from ours. 

I'm not trying to say truth is relative. I'm saying no one is perfect, and we can't make them perfect. If we try, we'll only make them resent us. We'll come off as being self-righteous, and no one likes that. 

A Practical Example

I'm going to use environmentalism as an example, mainly because it is a scientific one. It is easy to see which activities are beneficial to the environment and which are not because the scientific evidence generally speaks for itself. I say "generally" because there is a fair degree of interpretation involved in empirical analysis. Think of a murder trial. The evidence is there for all to see, but what the evidence says depends on which spin the attorney puts on it. Science works the same way.

So when I say a certain practice is beneficial, what I'm saying is that the evidence seems to point that way.

Perhaps I should have been a lawyer. I seem to be good at this disclaimer business.

But I'm rambling. Back to the question at hand. How do we live in a way that is not detrimental to the environment?

There is pretty convincing evidence showing that a vegan lifestyle is the best choice for healing an ailing world. Notice I said "pretty convincing." Since we've never lived in a world where everyone was vegan, we can't know what kind of effect it would really have. And I'm not vegan, so I'm certainly not promoting that lifestyle above all others.

My inner lawyer is coming out again. Sorry.

Let's look at three people with three different lifestyles.

Bob is a vegan. He chooses to live this way for multiple reasons. First, he has a love of animals and can't imagine consuming animal flesh. Second, he feels that this diet is the best thing he can do for his body. But his primary motivation is his disdain for the modern meat industry and the damage he feels it is doing to the world. Because of all of these ideals, he can't bring himself to put even one bite of animal protein into his mouth.

Teresa is not vegan, but she, like Bob, is wary of the meat industry. While she does eat meat, she tries to buy from local farms that raise free-range chickens and grass-fed cows. Like Bob, she feels that these choices are the most humane for the animal, the best for her own body, and the most beneficial to the world as a whole.

Shirley would like to be more deliberate about her diet, but she's a young mother trying to feed herself, her husband, and their three kids on a tight budget. She won't go vegan because she knows how hard it is to get her kids to eat vegetables and fears that removing meat from their diet will deprive them of the few nutrients they're actually willing to eat. And she can't do the locavore thing because it's just too expensive. So she buys the cheap cuts of meat from the supermarket. She occasionally serves up a plate of frozen chicken nuggets. Being a mom is tough, but she does what she can.

Avoiding Judgement 

We can all look at Bob's lifestyle and applaud him for his efforts to live according to his values. But what if he tries to force his values on others? What if he sees Shirley bending over the meat counter at the grocery store and takes that opportunity to inform her of the horrible consequences of her diet? Now Bob has gone from being a respectable man, who knows his own heart and lives his life accordingly, to being a bully. And no one likes a bully. Even if that bully has a good message. Even if, in his mind, he's only trying to help. Do you know what happens when you try to bully people into doing what you think is right? You actually have the exact opposite effect. You make them want to dig in their heels and refuse to budge from their position. 

Basically, if you think being vegan is the best possible thing to be, then be vegan. Because you can control your own choices. You can control your own diet. But don't expect everyone else to agree with you because they won't.

The same principle can be applied to nearly every decision we make in life. How much television we allow our children to watch. How much time we spend in the gym. Whether we go to church or not. Whether we drink alcohol. What kind of car we drive. 

In the end, all we can do is live our own lives according to what we feel is right. Even if we firmly believe that if everyone agreed with us the world would be a better place, still we cannot ask others to share our values. Doing so will only push them further in the other direction. 

Okay, so I got a little philosophical this week. Hope it didn't get too heavy for anyone. On a lighter note, I'm taking part in a group promotion right now. Amelia's Children and eight other mystery/thriller eBooks are available for only 99 cents. Check them out at this website: 99 Cent Mystery, Suspense, and Thrillers. All of the books are available from Amazon. Amelia's Children is available from all major online retailers.