Here’s a question you don’t want to ask at the dinner table: what is art? If you’re brave enough to throw that one into the soup, follow it up with this: who gets to be called an artist?
Yesterday Clint Watson began that discusson on his blog Fine Art Views. Clint wrote a thoughtful article about the potential impact of marketing guru Seth Godin’s new book, Linchpin, and the way he’s used the word “artist.”
People seem to think building an extraordinary business is impossible. But consider: how hard is it to turn “ordinary” into something better?
The significant other and I were in a restaurant, a new location of a well-established local eatery. It’s not a terribly expensive place, but it’s not a sports bar, either.
Long story short: at the end of the meal, I grabbed the sevrer’s copy of the bill and wrote, “Excellent service, thanks Jennifer.”
The fella looked at me and said, “Are you trying to start something?”
What do you think of when you hear the word “networking?” If you’re even slightly inclined towards introversion, you might experience an involuntary twitch. If you’re a card-carrying hard core introvert, you might find yourself wanting to curl into a fetal position.
I fall somewhere in the middle. In a straight up business situation, I’m fine. If you invite me to a swanky social event, don’t be surprised if you find me in the kitchen, talking about Bugs Bunny cartoons or car repairs with one of the catering guys. Working the room? Not likely. I’m the type who likes to have big conversations and big laughs with very small groups of people. I can talk business. I can’t do social networking.
At least I thought I couldn’t.
Do you ever have those days? You know, the kind where you feel like your head will implode if you utter another word about business?
Okay, maybe it’s just me.
We’re not talking much about marketing today. There’s a moral to the story that follows, so if you only have time for that, skip to the end. But you’ll miss the entertainment, which mostly involves laughing at the misadventures of yours truly.
I have perfectionist tendencies. When I embark on a new writing project, a little monster appears on my shoulder and tells me it’s going to be a dismal failure. Life coach and author Martha Beck claims this is why writers drink. In my world, that little monster can become a major creative block.
There’s a cognitive therapy technique that allegedly helps banish these thoughts. You ask yourself what’s the worst thing that could happen, then deconstruct your faulty thinking by then asking yourself what’s so bad about that worst thing. Repeat as needed.
