carlo centeno

Life Lessons

It’s been said that everything you needed to learn and know in order to get through a day was taught in kindergarten. That was the early-in-life primer, essentially a course in fundamentals: polite behavior, expressions of gratitude, common courtesy and common sense in all things you say and act upon.
Some life lessons around loyalty, unconditional love, patience, trust, kindness–among others–were influenced by my dog, Humphrey. Naturally, various experiences with family, teachers/professors and good friends added to that mix as well, as well it should.

Humphrey was a miniature cockapoo, but there was nothing small in his character or demeanor. Simply put, he acted like he was the biggest, baddest, dog east of the Mississippi. He possessed a radar that had a way of measuring and reading the nature of most grown ups, and of course other four-legged creatures [read: neighborhood dogs he didn’t quite like]. I’ve heard it said that the size of the dog doesn’t matter as much as the size of its heart. And that little guy had a huge heart.
Children were another story. He was comfortable around them. Humphrey was just as curious about kids, as the kids were with this little guy. Throughout his life, many thought Humphrey to be a puppy. In a sense he was that in many ways.

It makes sense to me that the weight and burden of grief that comes from the loss of a pet correlates to the amount and type of affection you gave the pet, and vice versa. Reciprocity at its finest. Quite frankly, that equation is the same for family, significant others and close friends. When you truly care about someone or something, you give it your all, certainly your heart and soul as a minimum.
MJ and I support each other in all of this. She did, indeed, have a big part in Humphrey’s life, as did our kids and grandkids. Those connections or bonds don’t disappear at death. Not surprisingly, we had thought about ways to extend Humphrey’s life, perhaps just a bit more care or special intervention would’ve helped, but time waits for no one.
Second thoughts arose wondering if any intervention for Humphrey could still help him. I think part of understanding what love is revolves around one’s willingness to let go. We’d like to think that as the end drew closer, that that pup knew he added so much to our days, and vice versa. Life lessons arrive from many points. From the smallest of vignettes to those large and complex, there’s something one can glean from experience and interaction.

Not surprisingly, other events or milestones reach out and overwhelm us, including one in particular. About a week after Humphrey died, one of our daughters and her husband added to the number of grandchildren. Their second child–and our fifth grandchild–was a welcome sight!

He was the salve to our sadness. The sounds and expressions of loss and affirmation differ. Death and grief are shadowed by life, not the other way around. That new baby dampened down some of the grief we’ve been carrying. The creation and arrival of a new life, affirms the reality that dying and being born are conditions each of us cannot deny. With one, comes the other.

Fate added another exclamation point to all of this. Just before the end of March, MJ’s sister suddenly passed away from heart failure made more complex by cancer. And just like that, death set us back yet again. Nostalgia, sadness, regret and second guessing returned in force. No sooner than when the new baby arrived home, MJ and I were thinking about an obituary and a funeral to attend in short order.

In all of this, I’m reminded of what MJ’s mom said about the passing away of loved ones: remember them on their birthdays, not just on the day they died. That notion has stuck by us for quite awhile now. With birthdays come celebrations, the gathering of family and friends, and an opportunity to reconnect with good times and the people who are and were a part of that. To auld lang syne, to “times that have gone by.” We can think of any number of experiences that raised a smile, a laugh, a few tears, but don’t mistake this as longing or living in the past. It’s really a time to be in the moment, a key one at that, to share recollections with those in attendance and in doing so, our connections to each other are again [or for the first time!] affirmed.

My take on all that’s happened is that our willingness to interact with each other can never be replaced with the efficiency of Facetime, Zoom Meetings, teleconferencing and any other present-day digital communication. The attributes of efficiency cannot separate us from emotions and empathy. There are lessons woven into experiences that can be shared, indeed as some should anyway. It’s what makes each of us a wholly unique, sentient being.

The peaks and valleys this past March, made clear that we need to nurture our connections to family and friends, to dogs and cats and pets, and to others outside our zones of comfort. Good or bad, joyful or sad, the confluence of your feelings shared with others enhances many of life’s lessons…

…and when that fog does lift…

Observation and interpretation of anything is very subjective though in commercial and advertising work, that which is deemed creative and acceptable are often determined by the art director, sometimes by the account supervisor on behalf of a client. Actually, the person who has the last word is often not the illustrator, photographer, videographer, writer–or in today’s parlance–the content editor. In my experience, the buck stops at the client’s desk….and oddly enough at a desk occupied by someone with a tangential connection to the project, perhaps rare, but it happens. “I think it’s clever, why don’t we run with it?’

Now, if the creators of verse and image are the clients, then the advent of blogs and vlogs have given these clients the control to post final versions of whatever is being created. To have complete creative control is nothing short of invigorating if not self-serving. Being both client and creator is double-edged; not surprisingly, creators can be the hardest of critics, at times being so critical of their own efforts and results that projects crawl to a stop. Paralysis-by-analysis, imposter syndrome, go figure.
So, when your creative fog lifts don’t meander thinking you’ll encounter an epiphany. Yes, at times that does happen when the creative block lifts, and you’re greeted by some nugget of an idea. If you’re the creator and the client, then it’s incumbent upon both personas to look at your product/content with equal scrutiny. Both minds, while driven by other factors, do have a common intersection. Think of 2 circles, one overlapping the other. In that small, shaded area is where the diaspora of sales, marketing, advertising and more are all blended together.

I think of that creative block, that fog, as a layer temporarily covering my creative line-of-sight. It does lift, so be ready.

Fog aka creative block

This is the view from my office. Because this window faces north, changes in weather often come this way, and today was no exception. A front was slowly moving through bringing with it some drizzle if not showers and a pinch of wet snow for good measure.
I go through some days feeling creatively barren, as if covered with a fog. My brain cannot keep focus of what’s important, nor can it generate a spark of an idea. I’d welcome a nugget of thought that morphs into a theme, a sentence, a paragraph and even a photograph.

When that kind of fog moves in, I used to double down on my brain as if I could purposefully, indeed consciously command by merely thinking, “I need something to work with here! Get it off the ground.” A couple mugs of green tea or coffee later, nothing appears on my creative radar.
And so I apply a way of thinking and visualizing to help reveal something/anything beneath that fog. I imagine what’s lying beneath not only my creative fog, but the cloak draped outside my window. Somehow the symbiosis of such processing helps clear my brain fog. It doesn’t reveal something monumental; it’s not a Eureka! moment at all. Some real right-brain elbow juice comes into play. I’m from the school that believes there’s no such thing as a “dumb idea or answer.” Possibilities abound depending on your attitude.

The transition time varies, sometimes in an hour, other times a day or 2 later. I suppose other efforts have probably taken longer to render that creative crumb-of-an idea or concept. If I knew how to sketch, perhaps it would be easier and at times faster to arrive at the idea. However, it’s just the way this person works. Not very exciting. The excitement–if you can call it that–is more a feeling of relief and satisfaction.

Whether I’m looking at a blank sheet of paper, a clean page in my journal or through a camera viewfinder [yes, very old school this guy], I sometimes think of Occam’s razor, a philosophy that states when troubled with competing solutions or ideas for a desired outcome, often the simplest version is the very solution that makes sense.

An American Artist

The Whitney Museum of American Art in NYC has a special exhibition of Edward Hopper, the American iconic painter of urban realism. The exhibit [October 19, 2022 to March 5, 2023] has a strong focus on the art he created during his years in New York City, a place he and his wife, Josephine, called home for six decades.
Art in its many forms gains additional attention when a curated exhibit or installation comes to life. This exhibit in particular, has an energy, an aura all its own, and rightfully so. It is the amalgam of place, time period, subjects & themes, and of course the painter, that creates this palpable energy.
Attending such an exhibit was made more interesting by the number of visitors who specifically chose Edward Hopper’s New York. For me the cacophony of conversations [often in a foreign language], the reactions and expressions all added to the experience. Out from the windy, brutal cold and into a cocoon of life, the next couple of hours felt theatrical.

Photographic Somnabulism: second stanza

Give credit where credit is due. The fine-art book, Somnabulist created by photographer Ralph Gibson in 1970, was where I first saw the word, somnabulist. His fascination with discovery and the realm of things abstract made for different if not interesting images. My take was when reality is cojoined with one’s dreams, it’s a means to an end: achieving success, finding calm, reducing stress, maintaining good health, nurturing family and friends and so forth. The following images are dreamscapes of sorts. They’re a far cry from Mr. Gibson’s B&W prints.
As in life—that is in being “awake”—light, shadow, colors and the dark all have a role in both dreams and living. One is allegorical, the other experiential. Or even both?

Photographic Somnabulism

Because the night belongs to….

Trompe l’oeil

Marketers and consumers share an underlying condition that produces second-guesses to decisions and even behaviors. In the realm of behaviorists, psychologists and therapists, this is often referred to as, cognitive dissonance.
Though the condition is often used in psychology/psychiatry, the right-brainers in marketing can take certain liberties in applying the essence of its definition to feelings and behaviors in our consumption-driven economy. What shapes your decisions and expectations when you buy something, work on a project or to make a single decision at a given time? What influences your “…on second thought, I better…?”

As I’ve noted in previous posts about marketing, it’s not what you’re actually receiving, but what you think you’re getting. This is a stretch, but at times I think some marketing is a form of trompe l’oeil. Are the cluster of lights actually on the bare trees?

Like a product attribute [example: price equates to exclusivity…though it can certainly suggest something else]. Do the light projections draw your attention? Or do you first see the small cluster of lamps in the lower left? Are the lamps somewhere near the building? Or suspended close to it? Clearly direct sunlight is apparent on the face of the building. Which light source peaks your curiosity?

There are numerous examples of classic trompe l’oeil art such as the one painted by Sameul Dirksz van Hoogstraten entitled, Still-Life. It’s a timeless piece, one that can feel more contemporary than its 360- year age might suggest.

courtesy: ARt and Object commons
*Still-Life,* 1664 by Dutch painter Samuel Dirksz van Hoogstraten

Marketing can, indeed, fool your eye. The pima cotton sweater I saw in a catalog looked like a keeper….until I tried it on. Fortunately, returns are the norm for many online purchases.

Bare Trees

The changing seasons has a way of rebooting my perspectives on life’s moving parts. It’s also an opportunity for me to find, even create, connections that could lead me to alternate choices about work and family, problems and challenges, as well as my own professional and personal goals. The fall suggests possibilities with a palette of colors where each one suggests a sentiment to whatever I’m feeling or thinking. More often than not, I make one, perhaps 2 attachments of color to an idea, an attitude, or even a condition that’s been entrenched in a mood of some sort which I cannot correlate or let go of.
However, when the maples, birch, oaks and other trees reveal their once covered limbs, I see a “wireframe” ready for a season of open air, of white space and a period of quiet and rest. Once again, it’s a reboot of sorts given the visual clues of autumn.

From a distance these bare trees take on an innocuous albeit familiar appearance. You realize that these wireframes silhouetted against a grey forest floor or an overcast sky has the potential to stimulate your way of visualizing beyond the obvious and the rote. Late fall and bare trees are midwives to modified or new byways to thinking and feeling.

Such possibilities make bare trees special. True, this past autumn the colors were fantastic, vibrant, even spectacular, more so than years past as far as I can tell. That festival of color has its own cathartic energy. Compared to just a few weeks ago, these now dormant, quiet trees are a type of dopamine, a suitable follow-on for my busy “monkey-mind.” There’s a levity and sense of calm with bare trees that’s akin to starting anew and refreshed.
The trees are steadfast and immobile and yet there’s a fluid-like form that draws your attention. And because you can see between the branches, openings of various shapes and dimensions become apparent. That white space becomes a cocoon for imagination and emotion, of things improbable that feel possible if only in theoretical form. What can you jettison from your mind into those spaces now in front of you? There are things each of us can let go of.

Many of the trees are straight up and down although the oaks and maples have a grace manifested by the sweeping reach of higher branches. The silhouette of these branches appear as arms with a soft curve, its ends like fingers gently reaching for the sky.

Late fall and bare trees are markers of change. In its most obvious forms, it means shorter days, cooler temperatures, fantastic light and shadow and a time change. The latter is likely the least wanted change this time of year. And yet the markers also remind us that still more change is to come. Some welcome winter [like me] and others can’t wait for spring.
In a personal way bare trees are anthropomorphic. They go through cycles of change just as we do with our life stages. And as in life, some of the bare trees will remain so in the months ahead. Just as some of us will, our own thoughts and feelings leaving our physical selves.
Bare trees can mirror our own life qualities season to season. Or maybe it’s the other way around; after all, trees have long existed before we arrived.

Berkshire 25

The most dedicated, most creative, most influential.

It’s fair to say that the Berkshires has a depth of culture, arts, eateries, education, health care, outdoor activities, community outreach and more, that can be as strong as other like-minded communities.
The diversity of such offerings is all-encompassing and that’s clearly reflected in this year’s Berkshire 25. This is Berkshire Magazine’s annual selection of 25 individuals who have made life here feel more special, complete and worthwhile. That may seem like an exaggeration, but that’s due to the contributions from folks like the Berkshire 25 that make the region “the most beautiful place to live.”

Joshua Sherman, MD CEO+Publisher of *Berkshire Magazine* welcomes honorees, guests, patrons & friends.

Examine the roster of recipients. Their talents, soft skills, areas of expertise and so forth are as varied and diverse as the individuals themselves.

Honoree Ms. Laura Brennan [L] with editor-in-chief, Ms. Anastasia Stanmeyer

Ms. Maud Mandel, PhD, president of Williams College [below], graciously opened her home to host the event.

Honorees on the couch: L-R, Mr. Jack Brown; Marge & Ed Bride

Rep. Smitty Pignatelli, an engaging & entertaining MC.

The cynics among us may feel that such occasions are self-serving, each designed to stroke egos or expand bragging rights. You can think that, but I believe no one that evening felt that notion at all.
At the conclusion of the event, Rep. Pignatelli mentioned that these individuals represent the best of what people can do, that such care and outreach nurtures the magnetic vitality of the Berkshires. Lightheartedly, he added that politicians like to think that they drive a lot of what’s positive. However, he quickly reinforced that a lot of what makes a community/region attractive and inviting has to do with the very people who understand what it means to be selfless.

WIT: Words, Ideas and Thinkers.

The inaugural 3-day, WIT Festival recently finished here in the Berkshires. Authors, journalists, novelists and playwrights gathered to engage participants in this year’s theme, Reimagining America. This was an opportunity to broaden one’s understanding of critical issues and concerns coursing through our current–and varied– socioeconomic and political points-of-view.
The festival is the brainchild of The Authors Guild Foundation, the largest organization of its kind in the USA that “educates, supports and protects American writers across the country.” It’s been noted that the Authors Guild Foundation is “the sole group of its kind dedicated to empowering all U.S. authors.”

*Ms. Lynn Boulger, executive director of the Authors Guild Foundation, welcoming authors, attendees, patrons and friends.*

Berkshire County lies in western Massachusetts. Its rectangular shape stretches north-south with New York state at its west border, Connecticut to the south, Vermont to the north and to the east it borders with Hampden, Hampshire and Franklin counties. For many, the Berkshires is more than a destination: it’s a way of life.

*Dan Brown*, author of best-selling novels The Da Vinci Code and Angels & Demons.

Presentations/discussions took place at Shakespeare & Company in Lenox. For the most part, the 3-day festival sold out, however a roster of those wanting to attend were placed on a list just in case of cancellations. I did not hear of any registrants calling to back out.

Ms. Nikki Maniscalco, associate development manager, The Authors Guild Foundation.

I think the salient detail I took away was in finding a connection with the speakers. Whether through their anecdotes and experiences or with discussions that were enlightening or instructive, discovering these connections became visceral. The connections answer to or affirm my own perceptions, creative risks and even the most profound sentiments I keep close to the proverbial vest. As effective podcasts can be, for me there’s a lot more to glean from such happenings when they’re done in person. There’s an intimacy about gatherings as you hear, see and feel more than just commentary. And in that collective presence, you may pick up emotions inferred or otherwise demonstrated in tone, expressions and body language.

Ms. Janet Dewart Bell, PhD–author, social justice advocate, executive coach & more!

One cannot dodge a glance or ignore a gesture, or miss a light-hearted remark to loosen up a room. As good as podcasts are—and they have an important place in communications and education—being there does make a difference.

David W. Blight–Pulitzer Prize-winning author.

The dinner, served at The Mount: Home of Edith Wharton, was cleverly engaging. Instead of table numbers, the names of authors took their place. Your seat was placed at a designated table which bears the name of the author at the bottom of your name tag [Jean Cocteau] Your actual seat is marked by a small piece of paper with your name handwritten on it.

Each table had a visiting author/writer or playwrite to serve as a moderator. Our discussion started with introductions which quickly morphed into an eclectic blend of reality’s “top stories.” It didn’t take long to connect the dots. To hear one’s writing experience through the years did have a common denominator: persistence. No doubt I’d wager that most of the writers in the room have had to deal with many types of rejection. The cacophony of conversations, the tinkling of flatware against plates and the the intermittent sound of laughter made it clear that many, if not all, enjoyed being in this festival.

If you happen to visit the area, make a point of stopping at The Mount. Bear in mind that Ms. Wharton lived in that home. I marveled at the scale of its history, its art, design and much, much more .

All in all, I appreciated even more, the permanence and accessibility of books. They are tangible, finite in its content and physical features, yet infinitely capable of challenging your imagination and expectations. Such is the attractive symbiosis of humankind and the inanimate. Both are needed to create and sustain history, the arts, the sciences, and the stories that take shape into something palpable.
A lot of my creative and professional work involves digital technologies. The past 2-years have made that more than obvious. Zoom meetings, laptops & desktops, flash drives and the always-on platforms in social media. We can access a myriad of things electronically, online of course, and the ease of that can make astringent our feeling and thinking from engaging in life that’s face-to-face. Books tend to provide the opposite for me. The pages in a novel can transport me to wherever. The sensory experience of turning and feeling pages are the toner that can spark my imagination and involvement in life. Recall Emily Dickinson’s poem, There is No Frigate Like a Book. To me it’s the leitmotif, that binds our imagination through the settings created by writers and authors. And I don’t need an app or device to open books.

As mentioned earlier, the Berkshires is more than a destination; for many, it’s a way of life.

There is no Frigate Like a Book
There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away,
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears a Human soul.
Emily Dickinson

“Switch-Tasking”

Time, energy and focus are 3 KPIs [Key Performance Indicators] for mulitasking. And likely there are other indicators, and for those, I’ll need an ombudsman to help reset my already overloaded brain. In any one of these factors, you either have it, lose it or want it. For the most part, I’d say most people want them all, or to at least hold onto whatever’s in you.

However, multitasking is not really multitasking.

Ms. Nancy Napier, Ph.D. and contributor to Psychology Today identifies it more as “switch-tasking.” For decades we’ve heard that new electronics and computers and software are supposed to help make our professional lives much easier and faster, that’s rarely the case. Many of my marketing projects are open—actually minimized—on my screen. Perhaps “minimizing” those open windows and apps is in actually diluting the strength of your project[s].
Dr. Napier points out switching between projects is counter productive. In fact, it takes a good amount of time and energy to realign your mental details jumping from one open project to another. All of this creates stress [but we already knew that].

As Dr. Napier puts it, multitasking is mentally and physically rough on anyone. The mode of working start-stop-start-stop-restart becomes a catalyst for mistakes, inefficiency and time lost. As the saying goes, “Well, there’s 30-minutes I can’t get back.”

Did you happen to notice the bee in the first photo [the sunflower]? No, well, were you multitasking….excuse me, “switch tasking?”