Any effort of life worthy of execution is a work of art. This applies most obviously in research – in my mind, there should not even be any hard and fast, static, defined demography of “transdisciplinarity,” though I myself use the term, for want of better semantic description. This creative endeavour, whether minute and seemingly innocuous, or groundbreaking momentous, should not so much be formed from a structured or deliberate action plan of cross-discplinary fertilisation or grafting, but rather borne out of a seed of passionate enquiry, whose innocence knows no arbitrary impositions.
That was a somewhat raw brain-worm-dance that wriggled in my head this morning, as I walked Lucy very briefly in the developing sweltering heat of the day. It is funny what wobbly bits and bobs, jetsam and flotsam flow in and out of my mindscape as I wait for Lucy to perform her daily micturitions and I my human-parent-of-canine obligations.
It is now so hot that my mind is making some strange associations between my skin and the pork belly crackle in the oven, though without the glorious olfactory effects! I prepared a light lunch of baby spinach salad leaves, cold boiled chicken, fresh cut mango on a bed of rice vermicelli and dressed with Thai fish sauce, a dollop of Thai green curry paste, lime juice and sesame seeds. I have spring onions growing in bottle on my window sill, and I sprinkled some onto the salad for a little bit of sulphuric punch.
The mango and chicken worked really well in a yin-yang texture-taste juxtaposition, which experience led me to further contemplate the morning’s idea-bubble. Creativity takes determination and effort, yes, and practice makes more better and better development and finesse, however, creativity is at the root of all important activity. Or it should be. Not to show the world your brilliance, but to make your own microcosmos just that much happier and more worthy of your occupation.
This dynamic existential inexorability pervades every part of my life. From cuddling with Lucy in bed, making the effort to get out of bed, planning and preparing food for us both, appreciating little things like gifts from friends or kindnesses, smiling at the funny antics that Lucy gets up to, marveling at her beauty, etc,and of course, the work that I get paid to do (and hopefully continue to be paid to do). It makes my life worth the vehement pursuit it demands of me every single moment.