Art in Everyday Life

"How do I do that?" said with a softness of someone who really wanted to know.

This was the question a student asked me at the end of our photography class. 

I was turning off the overhead fluorescents when the student approached. All the other photographers had left the building. The student and I were alone, standing face-to-face in front of the glowing TV screen. The moment felt sensitive and cinematic so I channeled Martha Graham and slowly lifted my willowy wrist. When my gesture reached the height of my protruded chin my palm turned upward and my fingers spread apart. I kept my gaze on the student’s eyes until absolute elegance turned my head toward the corner of the room. "Please take a seat over there."

"Over here, on the cushion?" asked the student while drifting towards a makeshift meditation dojo.

"Yes. Pick your favorite. I will sit on the other."

The student picked the purple cushion so I sat on the emerald one and slipped off my shoes. My socks were pink and the student's were skull and crossbones. "Nice," the student said while looking at my feet and sliding their backpack across the floor. 

"Thank you," I replied as I sat up straight and rested my hands on the knees of my crossed legs. 

Looking at my posture, the student mimicked my pose and easily twisted their legs into a perfect lotus. "I'm pretty limber," the student said. 

We sat silently for a moment before I asked, "Why didn't you share a photo with the class today?" 

"All my photos are black."

"Do you mean underexposed?" I was certainly curious.

"No, I mean black as in …" the student searched for the perfect word, "sadness." 

"Oh, cool." I might have said that a bit too cheerfully, but I was a huge fan of the tender heart. "Can you show me one of your photos?" 

The student straightened both of their legs and leaned way back. With a moan and a bit of tug, the student proudly revealed a beat-up digital camera that was wedged deep inside the pocket of their jeans. "Here we go." The student turned the camera on and said, "Ok, here's a photo I took yesterday," and then effortlessly settled back into a lotus. 

I studied the black screen for a minute. "Tell me what you see?"

We looked at each other and adjusted our poses. We straightened our backs and aligned our chakras. Without rushing the student eventually spoke. 

"Well, I was chilling at home thinking about the assignment. You asked us to capture a still-life of something that made us happy. I had just poured a tall pint of hot tea hoping it would open up my—you know—creativity. I wanted this photo to be great. I thought the light coming through the drape was perfectly soft and kinda trippy. I rested the camera in my lap and really studied the composition. I was mesmerized by the colors and the textures and the simplicity of it all. The tableau was incredibly soothing. My body felt so relaxed. I connected with all the goodness in the world. Was it my spirit? The primordial love of being? This was existence without thought. There were no words. I lowered my gaze in honor of this profundity. Then I remember my head started to bob and I think my finger triggered the shutter because when I woke up it was totally dark and the camera was still in my lap and the chamomile was cold and this is what happened."

"I love it.” We sat in stillness and continued our meditation of slow inhales and exhales. "Your photo is very Malevichian."

"Oh I think he's a wonderful actor. But how so?"

"Not Malkovich. Malevich."

"Say what?" 

"Kazimir Malevich created a painting in 1915 called, Black Square, which was an experiment of his Suprematist principles of art. Malevich stated that Suprematism is abstract art based upon the supremacy of pure artistic feeling rather than on the visual depiction of objects."

"Pure feeling," the student muttered. 

"Malevich was a rebel of sorts. Brave. His concepts challenged the Russian politics of the time which attempted to limit artistic freedom. He was like, nah."

"I can dig it."

"So how did your photo make you feel?"

"Happy I suppose. Content. But kinda sad too. I want to have better control of my feelings. I don't want to sleep on happiness—that would be lame."

"You are doing just fine. You have the miksang! That's Tibetan for good eye." 

The student laughed, "Thanks." 

"In regards to your question, why don't you set up that chamomile scene again and do exactly what you did the last time. Relax your body, connect with your spirit, and tame your inner dialogue. Perhaps you can lift your gaze just a tad? This helps me from falling asleep." 

As the student grabbed their backpack and slow-rolled towards the exit, they remembered their camera was still on the meditation cushion. "I almost forgot." 

In reverence I said, "You are the sad photographer." 

The student picked up their camera and with a stunning pirouette of grace and precision exited the classroom and whispered, 

"And that makes me brave."

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Mama Always Said I Would Be a Student for Life

Near the beginning of this year I was asked to teach some classes up yonder at Randolph College. I briefly chronicled my experience here. Part of teaching, and part of living for that matter, is to be self-critical. I basically struggled as a professor. But as my anecdote details, I wasn't given much prep time. I jumped in anyways because it was something new and different. At the end of it all I thought, hmm, that's part of my legend now, I can move on. But I didn't. I often mused about how I would go about it differently if I had another chance. My mentor at Randolph, Jennifer, was big on the "if you had another chance" mantra. So I adopted her wisdom and applied it to self. Although I had taught a lot of young adults how to be showbiz accountants, I never formally learned how to be an educator. I was ok with the subject I was teaching, photography and filmmaking, because I had decent experience and I was always practicing. But I never felt at peace in the classroom. I never felt comfortable being an authority, a phenomenon that I recently learned is called, impostership. I needed to fortify this aspect of my experience. I needed some teacher training. So I enrolled in this online course offered by Columbia University called, "Inclusive Teaching: Supporting All Students in the College Classroom." In general, the course was about establishing and supporting an inclusive course climate; setting explicit expectations; promoting diversity and inclusion through course content; designing all course elements for accessibility; and cultivating critical self-reflection. It was perfect. I guess my main takeaway was learning to not universalize my experience. Oh, and that teaching is a process. As my good friend Jesse often says, "Relax hotshot." Good advice. So I'll just keep learning stuff along the way. Mama was right. And btw, Jennifer sent me an email asking if I'd like to teach again in the spring.

I said, sure, I'd love to.

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Professor Wiggins: Higher Education

You read that right, but we'll get to the dirty deets later. Whoa, the last three months just whizzed by. Long of the short, all is chill in Wiggyland. Yay. I've been trying on some new clothes, taking off some used. I'm still living in Lynchburg, VA with the always inspiring Dee W Loizou. We've perfected our spicy fish-sauce sauce. Yes, I'm still vegetarian but this Thai dish we love requires the Red Boat, so we tread lightly and nom, nom, nom the bejesus outta that dish. I took photos for a wedding. My god, that was hard. Probably won't do that again. Thankfully the bride and groom are the best people on the planet. I took on a bookkeeping job for my dear friends at Riverviews...what! Yes, I hear you screaming. It's just temporary, people. No, I'm not moving back to NYC just yet. But I miss it. Dearly. Took photos for a fundraising event. Umm, super hard. But I did it all in character, with a British accent, in striped tights. For the challenge. Makes picture taking wildly mysterious. And fun. I did a few promo videos, bought a battery powered light kit, started using my flash a bit more for stills, and yeah, I taught an Introduction to Digital Photography class and an Advanced Digital Filmmaking class at the local liberal arts joint just up the street. It's called Randolph College. Used to be all women. Then that changed in 2006. I had 19 students and 16 were women. So who knows. I began teaching in February. Unfortunately I missed the first 11 classes of the semester because I came in as a pinch-hitter. Probably won't do that again. So hard. But I would do it all again if given a full semester. I taught four classes a week for a total of nine hours. 4.5 hours on Monday and 4.5 hours on Thursday. But you know what, that shizzle was a full-time job. Seriously. Best paying gig I've had in Lynchburg, but damn, brother barely had time to rest. But I kinda loved it? I know it's trite, but mad respect to all the teachers out there. Bring it in for a group hug! Yesterday was my last day. Graded all the students, sent each a personal note of gratitude, and then I noticed I hadn't written a blog post in three months. Whizzed by. The picture up top was taken at a show ring in Big Island, VA. I imagine myself sitting on those aluminum bleachers just taking it all in. Beautiful scenery, nice and quiet, just me and the cool breeze. What a spectacle. What a show. What a gift.

Might as well be happy.

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