“Art is as much about what is not there as about what is there. The greatness of a work of art depends more in what it holds back than what it shows.” Enrique Martinez Celaya*
I think the same thing can be said about conversation, if we trade a few words of Martinez Celaya’s quote; conversation is as much about what is said as about what is not said…..sometimes, when words are held back, true meaning shows.
How many words have I said or written since moving into the Octogenarian Kingdom? Waaaaay too many, no doubt, but even the ones that should not have been said, have allowed me to grow—at least—I hope so.
TOUGH LOVE
A Serious Talk About Downsizing:
I was in St. Louis showering unsentimental decisions (outright judgements) on the dearest of friends—a friendship that began when we were eight years old. She was moving to a Retirement Realm. We had been through this before—a house, a villa, a Florida condo and once again I was her designer/drill sergeant.
I said, “Jo, it doesn’t fit.” using my firm, but judicious, designer voice. “Jo, we don’t have enough space for the 12’ X 9’ oriental rug, antique corner cabinet, dining room table, chairs, lamps, 8’ custom circular rug, etc.”
Jo’s expression showed disbelief, dismay, and a touch of panic, as she said, “Sheila, I just had those rugs cleaned—-I love those rugs! Are you telling me they don’t fit?”
Jo is on a roll, “Do you mean my bed is too large? You really think my carved Dresden lamps are overwhelming for the bedroom?”
Not letting this issue die, she tries for an outright shot-in-the-arm—called buttering up, “Sheila, I love your new ideas for my apartment, the lattice-work, the periwinkle color, I know you can make them fit. You always do!”
This was gritty love and I wanted to please her. I measured her favorite pictures, mirrors, each and every piece of furniture—juxtaposed shapes and fit in those two rugs. I needed to offer support and new surprising design concepts for her new abode. We love shopping and bought furnishings that fit and accented her personality.
It worked! But outshining our tough “talk show moments,” is this; our friendship is wonderfully strong and we still laugh together, eight decades later!
AN IMPERFECT DIALOGUE
Wrong Number:
I was a new resident figuring out how things worked in our Retirement Digs when a series of phone calls set-off major frustrations. I picked up my phone and heard….
“Hello, I’d like a refill for my pills.” The lady did not listen when I told her she was calling a wrong number. Instead, she repeated her order once more.
Again, I repeated, “I’m sorry. You are calling the wrong number. I am another resident.” Ignoring my explanation, she said, “For goodness sake, I need my pills!”
Her third phone call, and I was bordering on strident as we began our routine. All I wanted to do was yell, “LADY! Please stop calling me!”
But a bit of understanding was beginning. I sensed her frustration and suggested, “Try calling this number.” I gave her an operator’s number at our community’s general office. Anticipating yet another fretful pill request, I was surprised when she denounced our community’s phone system. “It’s the phones, this phone system does not work here.”
And yet another surprise as she offered her sweet frustration. I heard a long sigh, a hesitation and then my caller continued in a softer voice, “I’m not perfect either.” And instantly hung up.
(I’m the one in back hoping she gets her pills.)
I have certainly dialed many wrong numbers and was sorry that she hung up before I could wish her luck!
How do you solve an emotional conversation with rational reactions when two people do not know each other, can not see each and are talking through air. After our initial irritations, we did not slam the phone down and tried to understand each other. I offered a Band-aid and she softened her voice—a Talk Show headed for kindly responses. Now This One Is…..
A Successful Talk Show With Good Listeners.
AN INTERVIEW WITH MY SOUS-CHEF
by
AN OLDER BLOGGER
And the radishes are rad!
O.B. “Did you say your name was Julia?”
B. Affronted voice, “No, I actually did not! My name is Blaire. Just Blaire!” (She loves the word, “actually.”)
O.B. “So sorry, Blaire. Your mommy said you were her sous-chef. You are no doubt accomplished in many foods. Can you describe one of your dishes?
B. “Yes, I can. Actually, I go out to my vegetable garden to dig a big radish for my daddy. He loves to eat radishes.”
O.B. “I noticed your gardening tool is a wooden spoon and you protect your hands with gardening gloves. The gloves are a smart choice. And the tutu matches your pink shirt. “
B. “Thank you! I wear my tutu a lot.”
O.B. “How do you prepare your radishes?”
B. “I get a very big radish and I wash it with soap and water. My mommy slices it and I put it on my Daddy’s plate,” (Blaire keeps a steely eye on me to see if I am listening. When I have previously glanced away, Blaire put a hand on each side of my face and gently turns it so I am looking directly at her.)
O.B. “Did you know there’s a famous chef named Julia. That is why I asked you at the beginning of our interview if your name was Julia. Would you like to be a famous chef just like Julia?”
B. “NO, I actually would not. I Am Blaire, Just Blaire!”
Apparently, my quest for the lowdown on her four year old interpretation of fine dining and organic gardening was now dismissed. I’ve done more than a couple of interviews and her disclosures were state-of-the-art responses, but, this was a first because, within minutes, I receive a disarming smile and hug. (And, I do know that she does not want to be a chef called Julia.)
Just Blaire!
Best pay, I ever received from a beloved Talk Show.
Sy’s Salient Points:
We add value to our conversations if we listen carefully and do not make assumptions.
Kudos all around to each of us as we share, care, laugh and enjoy each other during our own “Talk Shows.”
*Enrique Martinez Celaya is a contemporary artist who works across media—painting, sculpture, photography, writing—he serves as a Provost Professor at University of Southern, CA in Los Angeles.
Happy May Day Blaire