Our attempts to be hyper-productive and accomplish multiple things simultaneously can compromise our ability to focus and be effective in pursuits that truly matter. There will be instances where you think you are being efficient; however, you’ve actually just split your attention amongst multiple duties. Thus, making yourself more susceptible to mistakes and hindering your ability to take any pleasure in the process. The result? You’ve overcooked dinner while having a phone conversation with your friend, during which you’ve trailed off countless times because you decided there was a high-priority load of laundry to be done, in which you’ve unknowingly mixed a rogue red sock with your whites. This is because when you multitask, very rarely are you actually accomplishing multiple tasks at once. Instead, your brain is rapidly shifting attention between each of the activities you are attempting, which is counterintuitive to real productivity.
Months later, I drove to the scene of the accident—the place where he died. I pulled onto the highway’s shoulder and stood for a long while, examining the lines, only slightly faded, that veered sharply to one side before disappearing into the ditch. I studied their appearance, trying to interpret some meaning, hoping they might hold answers still. Vehicles sped by, some slowing, others honking, no doubt with irritation and surprise at the strange woman standing at the roadside, staring fixedly into the center lane. But the marks revealed little else apart from the glaringly obvious—a loss of control. In the end, I wondered whether the details really mattered, when knowing them or not, the outcome remained the same.
I don’t often mention being on the southwest coast of Thailand on December 26, 2004. In the rare instance that I do, or it inadvertently comes up, it’s with far more acceptance than my previous self, with still raw sensibilities, could sufficiently feign. I hold no allusions that the events of that day will be graspable to others. There is no universal language for the individual experience; no way to translate things in a way that encapsulates all the subtle nuances and bold complexities of subjectivity. There are emotions and memories that have burrowed themselves away deep, beyond reach of our impulse to generalize. Yet, I am far more welcoming of people’s efforts to do so. Of their efforts to empathize through the lens of their own experienced sorrows. Of the underlying humanity that motivates their gesture. Of the sincerity and openness that fuels their inherent desire to connect. And of the humbling instances where I am met with mirrored vulnerability.
In a recent McSweeney's article titled "RIP, 2017" writer Pete Reynolds unapologetically sums up, “In life, 2017 was an avid collector of mass shootings, devastating natural disasters, and unfortunate accounts of famous old men groping their female colleagues.” Counter to this resoundingly "bad", 2017 also delivered varying degrees of good, including the Women’s March, the legalization of same-sex marriage in Australia, and Greta Gerwig’s directorial debut Ladybird. Whether your outlook is steely focused on inspiring stories of progress, or fixated on negative tales of resurgent fascism and our seemingly obdurate march toward nuclear warfare, I think we can all agree that we are bidding adieu to 2017 on a somewhat conflicted note.
Mr. P. was an eccentric. An intellectual. A philosophizing soul who was respected by staff and idolized by students. Broad-shouldered and tall, he had a lengthy beard matched by a pair of thick sideburns. When I first met him, I expected a deep, authoritative voice to emerge, but instead a far more tempered one spoke, with a candid hippie-like inflection reminiscent of The Dude in The Big Lebowski. Though he evades description, if I were to venture one, physically, Mr. P. kind of resembled Santa Claus. Or rather, St. Nick’s maverick brother, who rebelled by rejecting the family business, and absconding to the Canadian West Coast, proclaiming, “To hell with snow and pine trees, man. I’m moving south and teaching the generation of tomorrow!”
Meet Meghan MacWhirter, an Alberta-based style blogger, accessory designer, and creative entrepreneur on-the-rise, whose artistic endeavours span the creative spectrum, to include: printmaking, painting, photography, accessory design and fashion blogging. I had the opportunity to interview Meghan and learn a bit about her recent projects, artistic influences, and personal insights on the creative community, at large.