Busy Signal

Street View of The Naam

I just spent some time getting ready for an art show that I hung yesterday at  The Naam, one of my favourite restaurants and a Vancouver institution in the vegetarian world. It's been around since the '60's and if you squint  just right as you sit at your table there, you might catch a hint of patchouli and know that the '60's are still alive and well . 

A table by the window with "Andy's Buddhas"

I could say I've been busy but that would go against something deep inside me. I remember the '90's when "busy" was the answer that everyone wore like a badge. I always wondered what it was all about. What was the deeper meaning of busy?  I had some theories but never cracked the busy code completely. I never felt busy even in the '90's.  I have some sort of internal compass that completely lacks the pointer toward busy.  Recently I discovered this wonderful poem about Busy by Amy Krouse Rosenthal.  I hope you're not to busy to read it!

Room View of The Naam

I will pop in some pics from my show.  And if you're in the Vancouver area, pop in and have a look and don't forget to have the sesame fries and miso gravy, maybe a piece of Shakti cake with hemp seed whipped cream. Happy summer days to you! May you lie on the grass and watch the stars. May you taste the rich tang of a summer tomato warm off the vine. May summer live on in your heart, long after it's warm, lazy rays have made way for the richness of autumn.

My trusty assistant helps me hang the show

Busy

"How you been?

Busy.How's work?

Busy.

How was your week?

Good. Busy.

You name the question, busy is the answer. Yes, yes, I know, we are all terribly busy doing terribly important things. But I think more often than not, busy is simply the most acceptable knee-jerk response.

Certainly there are more interesting, more original and more accurate ways to answer the question "How are you?" I'm hungry for a burrito; I'm envious of my best friend; I'm frustrated by everything that's broken in my house; I'm itchy.

Yet busy stands alone as the easiest way of summarizing all that you do and all that you are. "I am busy" is the short way of saying -- implying -- "My time is filled, my phone does not stop ringing and you (therefore) should think well of me."

Have people always been this busy? Did cave men think they were busy, too? ("This week is crazy -- I've got about 10 caves to draw on. Can I meet you by the fire next week?")

I have a hunch that there is a direct correlation between the advent of coffee bars and the increase in busy-ness. Look at us. We're all pros now at hailing cabs/making Xeroxes/carpooling/performing surgery with a to-go cup in hand. We're skittering about like hyperactive gerbils, high not just on caffeine, but on caffeine's luscious byproduct, productivity. Ah, the joy of doing, accomplishing, crossing off.

As kids, our stock answer to most every question ("What did you do at school today?" "What's new?") was, "Nothing." In our country's history there have been exactly seven kids who responded with a statement other than "nothing," and three of those were named Hanson. Then, somewhere on the way to adulthood, we each took a 180-degree turn. We cashed in our "nothing" for "busy."

I'm starting to think that, like youth, the word nothing is wasted on the young. Maybe we should try re-introducing it into our grown-up vernacular. Nothing. I say it a few times and I can feel myself becoming more quiet, decaffeinated, Zen-ish. Nothing. Now I'm picturing emptiness, a white blanket, a couple ducks gliding on a still pond. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. How did we get so far away from it?"

Amy Krouse Rosenthal 

An orange human and a red Buddha