Do not seek the truth. Only cease to cherish opinions. (Zen saying)

"Mind your own plate," was one of dad's dinnertime retorts whenever my sister or I might be overly concerned about which one of us had more meatloaf or less dessert. Take from what there is, eat what you need, and trust that the next guy will do the same. There's plenty to go around. You can't presume to know what the other guy needs. So mind your own plate.

I mind my own plate. This helps to see the world as well as to be in it without being reactive or distressed by circumstances beyond my control. I live in this world; I don't own it.

I mind my plate when I take a look at graffiti. I even minded my plate when I created Strange Attractions. This is a book about graffiti in my world. Writers come along, spray their pieces and their tags and what have you, and leave me (and everyone else) to deal with it. So I do. I find the effect of the stuff on my world is something beautiful, something worth sharing. So I photograph graffiti and I write about it. I offer this in my book, which is meant to be a part of a dialogue about creativity.

Creativity, as the poet John Keats pointed out in his day, requires closing your mouth that your mind might open. He called this "negative capability," the living in uncertainty--not insecurity or ambivalence. This is about not knowing, of being open to all possiblities, of abandoning a predisposition to a specific outcome, of letting life be. Being creative requires minding your plate and thereby finding the universe on your plate. The less you know, the more you can admit into your open and clear mind.

It's magic. I like this kind of dialogue. I like interaction that is open. This kind of conversation seeks points of connection by listening and getting to know new ideas, like new friends, without judgment. This is not about being overly concerned about being right. You can't be open to new ideas if you're holed up in a bunker. (more)