Fear of Flying

A week ago, I jumped on a plane to embark on what was, essentially, a 6-day long first date. My friends were understandably concerned for my safety. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t afraid in the slightest. I knew who and what awaited me and I was by no means disappointed. I will admit that I was anxious – but that’s different in my book. Nervousness is one thing. Fear is another, quite-distinct emotion.

While I was in California, I had the opportunity to visit the Disney Concert Hall in downtown Los Angeles. Frank Gehry’s building is an amazing sight to behold. Gleaming and twisting, its surfaces reflect light while its walls arch upward towards the heavens at seemingly impossible angles. It has this strangely organic yet totally synthesized appearance.

I made only one purchase for myself while I was in L.A., and it was at the gift shop in the Disney Concert Hall. It’s a lovely little button that says, “Fear No Art.” It’s a mantra that I have tried to implement in my adult years.

The way I look at it, there’s an artfulness to living. We choose our palette, materials, motivation and go on our merry way to create experiences that have depth, meaning and nuance. We can live our lives painting fantastic strokes of color, we can build walls around our hearts, we can dance to a thousand little tunes, or we can quietly scratch out mundane little stories. I’m not too keen on the mundane little stories, but then not everyone is like me, for which I am very grateful. I get on my own damn nerves – and thankfully there are pleasant, calming stories to counterbalance my more bombastic expressions. In the great book of life, everyone has a story and regardless of how interesting (or not) those stories are, they all have intrinsic value.

On my next-to-last day in L.A., we made a trip to Beverly Hills, which seems to pride itself on the values that are printed on the price tags in its numerous boutiques and shops. Now I love the fashions, don’t get me wrong. For my journey into the heart of 90210, I wore my Stetson, camo-shorts, cute corduroy sandals, a Patty Hearst tee shirt and a denim jacket. It was decidedly urban hipster meets hillbilly holler. I chose to wear my “Fear No Art” button, because I wanted a little token of my value system as we trekked off to Rodeo Drive. I’ll admit I was a little nervous and afraid as we pulled into the Barney’s parking lot. Rich people kinda spook me.

I had an amazing time, though. And I nearly peed in my slacks when I saw that Taschen publishing had a bookstore in Beverly Hills. They, along with Chronicle Books, are my favorite publisher of interesting and fun books on art and pop culture.

While I was merrily skipping through the store, a man leaned over and said, “ Excuse me…but where did you get that button?”

“At the Disney Concert Hall,” I replied.

“May I ask you why you bought it?” he inquired with a little bit of feistiness.

“It’s a mantra I believe in,” I sassed back, thinking I was gonna have to tell someone off in Beverly Hills.

“Well…I’m the artist and I’m very delighted to hear that,” he said.

We wound up laughing and talking about art and life and how he was pitching a book to Taschen (that’s why he was at the store). He told me I was a good luck sign and he signed the back of my button, “4 Rob 2 Good Omens.”

It was a lovely bit of synchronicity for me. But every day on my trip had a moment or two or four like that. And odd little twist or tale or adventure. A great moment. An extraordinary laugh. A satisfied sigh. A tearful goodbye.

Now that I’m back home and settling back into my life, I’m making my rounds, dropping off the presents I purchased for my friends. When I walked into my favorite watering hole to say hi to some pals last night I was greeted with this right as I walked through the door:

It takes courage to enjoy it
the hardcore and the gentle
big time sensuality

I don't know my future after this weekend
and
I don't want to

And with that, Bjork’s artistic song-stylings added a final, fancy, bittersweet flourish to the amazing, emotional journey that I’ve been on this past week.

It does take courage to enjoy it – because courage is the opposite of fear.

And I’ve been afraid long enough.