thoughts – Page 8 – sara mcguyer

Unreachable

Most days you’ll find me attached to a phone, responding Pavlovian-style to its every blip and beep, with large swaths of time hunched over a computer screen. Sometimes I’m so enamored with tech that I don’t notice it, other times I pine for more peace, a slower pace and recognize the unhealthiness in this constant stimulation. For anyone who works in the web world, I think the occasional break is essential to remember what it feels like to be and think without the crushing clutter of the internet, countless feeds and distractions.

Today wasn’t my first digital hiatus, but this one was a little different. Typically I plan them during vacation or long weekends when I put the rest of regular life on hold too.

The first pang came early. I missed a potentially cute cat instagram opportunity with Mr. Lumpkin pawing at the undecorated Christmas tree. From this, I could quickly move on. Will the internet crumble if it isn’t fed more cute cat pics? I think not.

And then my husband wanted to look at our budget for December. Uh oh. Total fail by noon. I logged in to my bank app, checked balances and such, and managed to sign off without checking email, facebook or the like. All was not lost.

Then came errand-running time. I haven’t gone grocery shopping sans iPhone since I don’t know when. During my trip, I missed a call from Louie (who wasn’t privy to the little experiment I was running), asking to add starch to the list. Oops. That extra trip could have been avoided. Annoying, but I’ll probably find something else we need.

But then there was this: I braved the gym without the luxury of my own music. Let me tell you something. My gym plays what must be the world’s most deplorable pop. I suffered through a remix of The Banana Boat Song and something that sounded like they sampled the whistle of a tea kettle. I can’t un-hear these tragic things, and don’t soon hope to revisit an unplugged gym trip.

Admittedly I overdo it on the screen time, and I like reminders like this of life unattached. I don’t want to live all my days full of splintered experiences, wherein one lovely moment documented means I’ve lost several others forever. I want those days that are blissfully free, unreachable. Just not on those simple days when I’m grocery shopping and hitting the gym.

And don’t worry internets, I’ve got plenty of great photos of my remarkably ginormous cat. In lieu of that missed morning pic, I offer up this beauty:

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Today’s prompt:“Unplug for an hour, a half day, or a whole day. Choose a time that feels a little uncomfortable. How did you feel? What did you do? Reflect on your experience. How much did you unplug this year? How does this experience make you feel about unplugging in the coming year?”

Inside Out

Long ago I read about a fringe religious, cult-like group. I forget the name entirely, and most of what I read of a long list of practices this group espoused. Their commitment to daily fresh air, however, stuck with me.

I didn’t track it, but I’d wager I made it outside for purposeful outdoor time 90% of the days this year. (By purposeful, I mean something more than the quick walk from my house to my car or things of that nature).

All of this outdoor time led to a few discoveries:

I won’t melt if I run in the rain.
A new favorite picnic spot under a gazebo.
Getting fresh air before 7 a.m. helps me start the day from a calmer state of mind.
Listening to records on my patio is a pretty perfect way to spend a weekend afternoon.

When the going gets rough (sad news, crazy schedules) these were the grounding moments of my year, the times I got my besting thinking done, taking all of that stuff swirling in my head from the inside out.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Today’s prompt: “Your year in photos. Did one photo encapsulate your year? Maybe it takes a gallery. Go out and take a new one that represents your year if you need to. Let’s see those photos.”

Happy Accidents

Life has a way of veering off the path, with little regard for to-do lists and best laid plans. Like today. I left the office for a prospect meeting with Jeb and Daniel. Upon our return we found the road and front door leading to our office completely flooded.

Without skipping a beat, Jeb says, “Well, let’s go get a beer!”

After one tasty beer (Half & Half – why don’t I revisit you more often?) at Union Jack’s, the water had subsided just enough to clear our front door. Sometimes you just need to be ready to roll with a new set of circumstances.

On Repeat

Much of this year, I dipped into old flames musically – I fan-girled it, front row style for Sebadoh in a tiny venue, 15 years after first seeing them in Bloomington. Another icon of my youth, Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks played Earth House (I saw him around ’96 as Pavement). These rockers releasing new music and touring unleashed a memory lane that led me deep down a path to Archers of Loaf. I probably listened to All the Nation’s Airports 3 times as much this year that I did when it was first released in 1996.

Alongside this weird revisit of late 1996, a few records, all female vocalists, really grabbed me and hung on for dear life. Apparently the theme of the year is ethereal vocal with a side of noise. I’d be hard pressed to choose which of these I’ve repeated most.

Asobi Seksu:

St. Vincent:

In the end, I might give the edge to Mr. Gnome. As much as I reach back for the stuff of my youth, I love exploring too. This two piece out of Ohio hit me by surprise with some seriously unexpected song architecture.

Listen on bandcamp.

This post is part of Think Kit, a blogging project by SmallBox.

Think Kit: favorite photo

This post is part of Think Kit, a blogging project being organized by my workplace, SmallBox.

Today’s prompt | Thursday, Dec 1: Favorite Photo
Have a snapshot that encapsulates your year? Or one that represents a great moment? Maybe it just looks dang cool. Show ‘n tell time — let’s see those pics!

Taken from my iPhone while biking with Louie in Mackinac Island, Michigan, this photo captures my most joyful moment of the year.. We traveled the entire perimeter of the tiny, fog-cloaked island in the early morning.

Eeee-ther / Eiii-ther

For as long as I’ve lived in Indy, this shell of a building has stood at the corner of 16th & College. I always wondered what used to be there, and how it got cut in two, revealing its former middle.

Today that building was demolished, and I watched in equal wonder with the disparity of reactions online. From ‘Thank God that eyesore is gone’, to anger that it might have been saved. Here’s what I thought: it looked like a life-size doll house, just waiting to be styled. I had never seen a cross section of a building like that, and it certainly captured my imagination.

And now, in its demolished state, it shows just how differently we funny animals approach the world. You say eeee-ther and I say eiii-ther. Farewell, old thing.

Photo from Indiana Landmarks facebook page.

Give the Fest a Kickstart?

My Friday night consisted of frozen pizza, a 6 pack of beer and a stack of Indy Film Fest screeners. Our submissions have officially closed and we got the expected last minute rush of films. Between now and June when we announce our lineup for this summer’s festival (July 14-24, 2011), I’ll be watching and evaluating about 15 or so shorts and 4 full length feature films each week, in addition to my other duties as board member and marketing director. It ended up being the perfect way to end a very hectic week.

You see, Indy Film Fest is pretty much my cause in shining armor. I can’t help but fully invest myself into it – I get to work with such stellar creative minds and dedicated volunteers. AND I get to help build something that can be enjoyed by so many, that adds to the vibrancy of our fair city.

Here’s something not everyone knows – Indy Film Fest has zero paid staff (maybe one day!). We have a few dedicated partners and sponsors – particularly Lodge Design, Nuvo and the Indianapolis Museum of Art. If it weren’t for these groups, and the generous gusto of our volunteers, the festival couldn’t happen.

We wrote it into our vision. Deliciously scrappy, Highly focused. I pour my heart into the festival because I know that come middle of July we’ll be able to put on this amazing shared experience around film that rivals any put on with full-time paid staff.

If you’ve been to the festival and liked what you saw, if you’ve scored passes into one of the many free advanced screenings we offer each year – please consider supporting Indy Film Fest.

Here’s the way Kickstarter works. We’ve set a goal of $4,000. We have (now less than) 30 days to reach that goal. If we don’t make it, we lose all of the pledges others have entered. It’s a risk, but we had faith. When we looked at the numbers coming to our events, our interactions on various social networks and the rising attendance at the festival – we just knew we could pull it off. Kickstarter even links up with Amazon, so if you have an account, pledging is a very simple process.

At $50 and up, you become an official member of the fest, with all of the accompanying perks. For your pledge of $500, you earn a reserved seat in the theatre for the duration of the festival. How cool is that? See more of the perks listed out for each level here.

Maybe you’ve never been to the Indy Film Fest before. Then please consider a ten dollar date with the fest. For your $10 gift, we’ll thank you with two tickets to any regular festival screening – a pretty risk-free investment if you ask me.

Become a backer of Indy Film Fest

Know you’ll have an entire volunteer festival team who is thankful for your support.
And if you made it this far, thanks, from the bottom of my grateful heart.

Dunbar Recipe

December 9 Party.
What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans. (Prompt author: Shauna Reid)

My favorite party goes like this:
I get a craving. Or L. does. We plan and shop and make every dish dirty crafting a meal at home. We open wine we bought in Italy, saved for special occasions. After, we dance in bare feet in the dining room or sing songs.

Or a friend calls randomly and says, “Hey, I’m making a big pot of chili. Come and eat with us.” And we all gather in the kitchen for beers and good laughs.

Or a lovely couple invites a small group for a Burns Supper, complete with poetry, Haggis, Tatties and Neeps. And scotch-fueled board games lasting into the wee hours.

Small, intimate gatherings win hands down every time, and only get better if it involves sharing food. A collected warmth forms between people that share nights like this.

Dunbar’s Number says humans can maintain 150 stable relationships. But that smaller core, the ones you cook with, how many fit in that circle?

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Image credit: Mr T in DC via Flickr

This post is a part of #reverb10 by Gwen Bell. Gwen and her team enlisted a group of authors to write prompts for each day in December. Participants can blog, tweet or post photos in reaction to the prompts to reflect on the past year.

Always Wait for the Whistle

December 8 Beautifully Different.
Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Prompt author: Karen Walrond)

When I think about what makes me different and beautiful, or anyone else for that matter, I’m reminded of the the opening of the movie Amelie. We are introduced to the people in Ameilie’s life by short lists of things they love and things they hate. It’s a quick, clever way to sum up a person and incredibly telling of their overall personality.

Amelie, for example, likes to dip her hand into sacks of grain, look back to sneak glances at the faces of people watching movies in the theater and skip stones, but doesn’t like it when strangers brush her hand or when drivers in old movies don’t watch the road while driving.

These are the quirks that make people unique, the sort of things you uncover slowly as you get to know a person. Each learned quirk is a small reward symbolizing closeness. Sometimes when I’m getting to know people I think of them this way – what would their little Amelie-esque loves/hates be?

If a clever movie montage of my quirks were made, this would be among them: I love the sound of a tea kettle whistle. Even if I know the water is hot enough, I always wait for the whistle. Always.

What would be one your movie montage quirks?

Extras from Amelie:

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