Art and expressive creativity played a significant role in my youth. I enjoyed the Arts as equally, if not more than I enjoyed math and science. Personal drawings, paintings, and sculptures decorated my apartment into my mid-20s. I loved the meditative and focused act of creating something from nothing. Yet, somewhere along the way, the artist in me retreated, virtually disappeared, and my mind consumed the free cycles to accelerate my professional career in technology. I attribute two things to this killing of an artist.
The societal and economic impact of being a knowledge worker
The theft of my life’s work
An old houndstooth fedora hangs from a plastic hook, rocking back and forth to the motion of the northbound Shinkansen express from Kyoto to Tokyo. The hat’s brim is lifted in the back, down in the front, and a curious emblem adorns the loophole presumably used to hold a feather. The emblem is a tree with drooping branches above a Japanese symbol I’m unable to translate. I’ve got a window seat on this afternoon trip to Hakone where my wife and I will be spending the next two nights basking in Japanese tradition at a Ryokan, which is a hostel of sorts with tatami mats, futon beds, pillows for sitting, and a natural hot water Onsen for tranquil escapes from reality. Read More