Oh, I see! moments
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18

Oct

How a Paris Mime Made Me See Things Differently

by Meredith Mullins on October 18, 2012

eyes of Paris mime seeing things differently

Eyes of a Paris mime
© Meredith Mullins

Street Sweeper or Zen Master?

Street Sweeper. Silent Statue. Performance Artist. Zen Master. The character poised on the Pont St Louis (a “bridge with a view” across the Seine in Paris) could be any or all of these. He stands suspended in mid-sweep, as the flowing crowd passes around him.

Some bridgegoers glance at the silver sweeper and smile at the surprising oddity of it all. Some stop for a moment and stare, waiting for a sign that he is real, a twitch of his little finger or a silver blink. Yet, he remains frozen in time.

Paris Mime as Silent Statue

Every day, Robert Gheorghe comes to work. He’s a normal guy. A Romanian in Paris, trying to make a living, just like most people. For his job, though, he stops in the park behind Notre Dame, changes to his “work” clothes, covers himself in silver paint, and strikes a pose on the bridge. He doesn’t move. In fact, he can stand perfectly still for 40 minutes.

Paris mime sweeping street, causing the writer to see things differently

Paris mime in street-sweeping position
© Meredith Mullins

There are certain skills required for the art of being still.

  • Stage actors use shallow breathing and meditation techniques.
  • Buddhists use mantras and focused concentration on the now, finding peace beneath the clutter.
  • Martial arts practitioners use kamae (postures) to control their entire body (including mental “posture”) where countervailing forces help the body to stay still.

 

Things to Do While Frozen

Robert uses his own form of kamae.

  • He thinks of gentle lapping water or cello music . . . or he passes the time by watching people’s shoes (all so different!) in his limited range of vision.
  • He also creates featurette films on the gray pavement within his gaze.
  • He replays memorable conversations, practices one of his five languages in his head, dreams of traveling to other countries, or imagines himself with his older brother’s job (at the other end of the bridge) blowing giant bubbles and entertaining children.

He longs for a time when he is not in a frozen state. “A statue can’t communicate,” he says. “I want to get to know the people passing by, but I must remain still . . . and silent.”

Oh, I See—Things Are More Than What They Seem

Diving into deeper layers and going beyond an immediate response can almost always give you an Oh, I see moment. I had one the day I looked at Robert and realized  that things are more than what they seem.

Head of Paris mime who made the writer see things differently

Head of a Paris mime
© Meredith Mullins

As I walked across the bridge most days, I saw Robert as a curious “statue” with an amazing command of inner and outer silence.

But, one day, after talking with this silver sweeper, I learned that he sees himself differently, and I began to see him differently, too.

He may be the only thing on the bridge that doesn’t move, but he is not a statue . . . and he really doesn’t want to be silent.

He wants to get to know the people who are wondering about him . . .  and marveling at his performance. He wants to see beyond the shoes.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

 

France (Paris)/On the World Stage

15

Oct

New Perspectives on Beauty from Eric Holubow

by Janine Boylan on October 15, 2012

Abandoned space at Washburne Trade School in Chicago, Illinois, showing new perspectives on beauty

Abandoned space at Washburne Trade School in Chicago, Illinois
© Eric Holubow

Can There Be Beauty in Decay?

Eric Holubow, urban exploration photographer, gave me new perspectives on beauty. He creates haunting views into life’s changes through snapshots of glorious buildings as they fall into disrepair.

Abandoned Church

Gary, Indiana’s City Methodist Church once held nearly 3,000 members. Now its rainbow-colored windows have made way for exploring vines. Its floors beckon weeds, and its roof welcomes trees. Yet Holubow shows that it is still a place for inspiration.

Ruins of Holy Trinity Church in Gary, Indiana, showing new perspectives on beauty

Ruins of the Holy Trinity Church in Gary, Indiana
© Eric Holubow

Auto Manufacturing Plant

Detroit’s Packard plant was a modern and innovative automobile facility when it opened in 1903. Now the dense concrete walls are crumbling. The air is heavy with musty, decades-old rot. Holubow depicts a space waiting for its next chapter. But he includes a carefully-placed automobile seat that offers a view of inspiration and discovery in the future.

Remains of the Packard Auto Plant in Detroit, Michigan, showing new perspectives on beauty

Remains of the Packard Auto Plant in Detroit, Michigan
© Eric Holubow

Candy Factory

These images of Brach’s candy factory reveal layers of change. The snow has provided a pristine new carpet for the hallway. The walls boast spray paint as colorful as the candy once made there.

Abandoned Brach's candy factory in Chicago, Illinois, showing new perspectives on beauty

Hallway in Brach’s candy factory in Chicago, Illinois
© Eric Holubow

Like a resident ghost, paintings of the company’s signature candy refuse to be peeled away.

Wall in abandoned Brach's candy factory in Chicago, Illinois, showing new perspectives on beauty

Wall in Brach’s candy factory in Chicago, Illinois
© Eric Holubow

From Theater to Parking Lot

Some of Holubow’s images show buildings he caught just before they were leveled to make way for a new generation. Others, like this theater-turned-parking lot, show buildings that are already transformed with a new purpose and identity.

Michigan Theater in Detroit, Michigan, converted into parking lot and showing new perspectives on beauty

Parking lot on site of Michigan Theater in Detroit, Michigan
© Eric Holubow

Windows Into a Beautiful History

Holubow offers, “In these forgotten and overlooked places, I see not just loss, tragedy, or decay, but the chaos in which a new architect’s vision may be born.”

For me, each image is a window to the place’s beautiful history. I imagine the—

craftsmen who carefully laid each piece of stained glass

artists who spent hours carving and painting the intricate designs on the ceiling

worshippers who quietly shuffled through the aisles

workers who inspected thousands of sparkling wrapped candies

ushers who helped patrons to their velvety seats

person who slid the dirty bench to look out the gaping hole in the wall

teens who tagged the shiny white tile walls

Oh, I see such haunting beauty in this decay and gain new perspectives. What do you see? Leave a comment.

See more of Holubow’s images on Flickr and Facebook.

Inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

 

The World's Photography/USA

11

Oct

Life Lesson: Slowing Down at the Airport

by Janine Boylan October 11, 2012

If video does not display, watch it here.

Connecting with People Instead of a Flight

Like the planes in this video, I had been zooming in and out of airports all day long—from early in the morning until dark. In fact, I was at my fourth airport of the day. And I still wasn’t home.

The night before, my flight in Dallas had been cancelled. After just three hours of sleep, I negotiated a flight to Houston, and then rushed onto another plane to Nashville, where I stopped long enough to give a ten-minute presentation.

Then I caught a plane to Chicago, which was supposed to be the last stop before home.

Rushing to Be First in Line

I had taken possession of a seat near the boarding gate. I noticed that everyone on this flight seemed to have a carry-on bag. That meant lots of competition for overhead storage space.

But if I strategically jumped up to be first in line, I knew I could at least get my luggage in the bins. I double checked that my boarding pass was ready and that my bag was facing the right way for me to grab and go.

Once I knew everything was ready, I sat back in my seat and looked onto the pitch black runway. Knife cuts of lightning flashed in the sky. Rain drops snaked down the glass.

The Dreaded Delays Set In

The screen over the desk promised the scheduled departure time.  Then the time began to inch 10 minutes later, 20 minutes later . . .

People were filling the empty seats that other passengers had politely left between groups of travelers. Before long there wasn’t a column left to lean against, and teens in cut off jeans were starting to occupy the floor. The air was thick with frustration.

The speaker crackled, and a simultaneous groan came out of every seasoned business traveller who knew what was coming:

“The FAA has closed the airport until further notice due to the storm.”

“The plane that was scheduled to land here is now landing in Minneapolis.”

“The plane that was right behind it is on its way to Detroit.”

“We’re looking for another plane and will keep you informed as we receive news.”

I took the opportunity to download another book. I settled into my seat, raising my imaginary walls, retreating into my private world, refusing to even look at other passengers who might take valuable overhead storage space.

But the woman next to me leaned over and explained that she had been traveling from Europe. She was tired and wanted a bottle of water. Would I mind saving her seat while she went and bought one?

A Change in Strategy

As I raised my head to acknowledge her, I had an Oh, I see moment. Something was happening around me. The delay of the plane had broken down the barriers between strangers, and people were coming together.

A retired couple was making funny faces at a baby to keep her laughing.

A bearded, T-shirt-clad man was gesturing wildly to illustrate a story he was sharing with a smiling business man.

Parents with a stroller filled with suitcases sat back as their two toddlers charmed a group of teenage girls.

This inspired me to slide my suitcase over and save my new friend’s seat. When she returned, in between calls and texts to family members, we shared experiences and found we both loved learning languages.

She was moving to a place near my home, so I provided some tips for apartment hunting. I found her stories much more interesting than the book I had downloaded.

Several crackly announcements later, the voice promised that our plane had arrived, and we would be boarding. I rechecked my boarding pass, repositioned my bag, and prepared to get in the line.

But this time I wasn’t worried about being first. Did it really matter if I had to check my bag?

A tiny life challenge had become a life lesson. I was about to board with a big group of friends.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

 

Art of Travel/Life Lessons

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