American Style

"Baseball, Mom, and apple pie."

Obviously, there's more to America than this. We find ourselves in an ever increasingly diverse country. More and more citizens are non-European. More and more are not Christian. More and more are not comfortable being blue or red.

I'll leave the politics and religion alone as I wish we'd all adopt a more "live and let live" philosophy. People should keep their faith to themselves. Politics should be fair and be about helping everyone. Yes, I have pie-in-the-sky dreams; let's call them apple pie-in-the-sky dreams.

But when it comes to style, many Americans adopt a similar look: Traditional. Preppy. Classic.

This is not about snobbery or anything Ivy League. It's more about working hard and enjoying life. It's about being practical not pushy. It's about bucking trends and buying and wearing things that are made to last. Some will say that bucking trends is trendy, but that's usually stated by those that have a closet and home full of things that they wish they'd never purchased.

Katharine Hepburn was the queen of this. She was practical and hardworking and classic beyond words. She often bought her clothes at hardware stores and thrift shops. Her home was full of found-objects and comforting collections. Her wardrobe wasn't all thrift but it was practical. Formal wear was black and went with about everything else in her closet.

My college buddy Matt M. embodies this style. His wardrobe is timeless as are his tastes in food, decor, and music. He doesn't follow trends but rather honors history and the sturdiness of well-made objects and attire. Matt always looks good even when he's schlepping around town running errands. He rides a bicycle and not a scooter. He's about value over vanity. I admire that.

American style is not about being "in." It's about being comfortable and being able to switch from work to play in an easy manner.

That's at least one thing many Americans can agree with while people fight over being red or blue. As for me, I don't care for solid reds or blues. Give me tartan, a Cubs game, apple pie, memories of mom and let me be. I'll grant you the same courtesy. With style, of course.

Winter

Winter is far too often ostracized for its cold and ice. I love it. I prefer the crisp cold air over summer's heat. The long nights and glittering snow do much for my spirit whereas the humidity of summer and its heat shut down my senses.

In the summer, I like to close myself off in my studio, shut the blinds, and turn down the air conditioning. Working on art in a dark chilly room thrills me and it brings me closer to the winter I love.

Winter is not for everyone. I know this all too well with the complaints I hear during these cold months. I ignore them.

I long to go sledding and wear layers of cotton and wool. I enjoy cocoa sitting by a fire. The moon light making the snow glitter and sparkle leaves me in awe. I believe there's magic in that moonlit snow. I feel it in my bones and soul.

Winter is my friend and my counsel. It clears my thoughts and sharpens my instincts. I'm in love with it.

Simple

I'm a simple man. That's something else I'm embracing about myself.

Stories with too many characters and plot lines confuse me. I don't like puzzles. Math escapes me. Languages are lost on me. Other than plaid or tartan I like things to be in solid colors. Too many spices in a recipe make me ill. I don't walk through the fragrance section of department stories. I do art one piece at a time. When something is ready to rest and dry, I rest before I move to the next board or canvas. Multitasking is beyond my comprehension. My senses weren't made for bombardment.

I've always been this way. I want to be focused on one thing at a time. Distractions often throw me off course in remarkably bad ways.

The current age of humankind shuns the simple. It requires multitasking, distraction, gadgetry, complexity...

I'm simple.

And that's okay.

The New Year

2011 has arrived with a renewed sense of self and my place in this world.

I've spent far too many years being something I'm not. I'm not one to wear black, smoke, or wax on about poetry or indie films. I don't care for roller derby, or raves, or wearing matching t-shirts for any reason. I don't get "hip." It's not that I'm too old, it's just that these things aren't me.

I want to wear boots from L.L. Bean and plaid shirts. Eating pizza brings me happiness and as much as I want to be more fit, I'm not going to eat celery all day and starve. I want to hear Christmas carols sung by Bing Crosby not the latest pop group that will be forgotten in a few months. I'm tartan not mod. I'm burgers over fillet. I'm primary colors over neon.

Making art brings me joy at every level. Making MY art; not what others want to see. Trends in arts are not for me. I'll create what I like and you should do the same.

This life is short. I want to fill my days with people and things that I deem to be uplifting and full of quality. As the saying goes, "Quality not quantity." I've looked into the past and have seen things I don't like. No regrets, per se, but too much time spent with people that don't feed me on an emotional or spiritual level. As others have told me, I'm an emotional sponge. My "sponge" has absorbed too many bad emotional habits and I'm ready to break free. Bad habits are for teenagers and I need and want to embrace being a man.

Saying I want to be a man has so many connotations. I fought for too long not to be "manly." I shaved my chest and dressed too young for my age. That was a mistake. I like my bald head and my hairy chest. I love the fact I can hang out at bars or in a bookstore any time I want. I'm thrilled that my voice gets deeper the older I get. I'm even okay with a few extra pounds when I used to hate feeling fat. I enjoy the fact that I can be anything as a man: masculine or feminine. Rough or soft. Playful or serious.

I like me. Maybe I like being me for the first time in my life.

Happy New Year, indeed.