But is it Art?

On the drive to work today I was listening to the radio. They were trying to get people to define art.
For the record, I am not an arty person.
I was thinking of what would be a nice definition for art that would be good for everyone. Then I realized I shouldn’t.
I should only come up with a definition for myself. Firstly, because I don’t feel a pressing need to share this information. But truly because I am the only one that needs to know it.
I am mentally unfit for art. I am not a real artist. I won’t be one. Ever. My opinion should not be forced on others, but I should not have their definition forced on me.
And what scares me is the knowledge that I will not change in this respect. I am not going to change personality and be someone open to art like that. I am who I am, for the rest of my life. Whether I like it or not. I have to acknowledge that I won’t magically become someone else.

For the record thought, my definition would probably be something along the lines of “What I like to look at or experience.” Arty people seem to want to “start a conversation”.

Last Day in Costa Rica

After all the headaches of travel, I need to look back through the haze and pain and remember the last few days in Costa Rica.

The second last night was actually the last night for a number of friends. So we had some special celebrations. Due to situations beyond my control, I was part of an auction whereby I had to do a sexy dance for the winner. That had actually been negotiated down from what the organizer wanted to auction me off for. In any case, I had one woman who really wanted me to dance for her and bid very high. That’s a good feeling. Sure, I may be treated like a piece of meat, but it’s nice to be a wanted piece of meat.

I did my dance, for her, but she wanted everyone to see it, so there was a crowd of people. Apparently I am good at dancing. In the middle, one of the girls shoved me out and took over the dancing. After awhile she was corrected and I got to continue. The crowd loved me.

Then, something touching happened. Because I had been interrupted, and because I had been so helpful to everyone for the entire week, a bunch of the girls were going to do a dance for me. That meant a lot to me. I crave being appreciated. And I hate asking for anything. So it was really nice that my friends, totally unasked for, would do something like that for me.

And about thirty seconds in, I was shoved out so that the girls could dance for each other.

That put me into a funk for the rest of night. I still stayed up until the sun rose. I wanted to spend as much time as possible with my friends before they left. It was also a clearer night, so I went out onto the beach to look at the stars. It wasn’t dark enough because the clubs near the beach kept their lights on. So although I didn’t see the Milky Way, I saw lots of stars. This was close to the equator, so I was hoping to see new constellations. The North Star would only be ten degrees above the horizon, so that was new. Howeve, the bright star I saw that I hoped might be Alpha Centauri, was actually a conjunction of Mars, Jupiter and Venus.

On the actual final day, I rested a lot. I made a token effort to get out into town to see what it had to offer. Tourist trap.

I then hung out with some friends. I noticed that the sun was about to set and proposed going to the beach to watch it. They agreed, and we wandered off there. It was beautiful. And I lucked out; I got the settings on my camera correct and we got glorious photos. One of the girls even did an impromptu photo shoot.

It was only after it was dark and I had returned to the hotel that I noticed my sunglasses were missing. I had lost my good pair earlier in the week, and this was my only backup pair. They would be somewhere on the beach, that was completely dark. I grabbed a flashlight, and gave it a shot. Then a miracle happened. I walked out, straight to the shoreline, and directly into the path of my sunglasses. A miracle! Just one more and I’m up for sainthood.

In the evening, we had a subdued party. A lot of people were gone and we were tired. There were fresh strawberries and blackberries that some friends had gotten from when they toured a volcano. I enjoyed talking with my friends, and getting to know acquaintances better.

And then I was appreciated. A friend decided to reward me for all the help I had been during the week, and to compensate me for the ruined dance from yesterday. For a brief moment I was treated like a king. And it meant a lot to me because it was unasked for and freely given. A wonderful endnote to a week. I went to bed after because there was no way the evening could get any better.