5 things artist, author, filmmaker, and Creighton professor Tim Guthrie can’t live without
I remember once I was asked what my “My Five” things were by Kevin Coffey for the Omaha World-Herald. I picked things like a new video camera, probably my laptop or iPhone, and I think maybe my 2000 Honda Insight hybrid – those sorts of things. I was young, and I essentially chose possessions.
So much has changed since then. I could pick serious stuff, but too often fail to take myself very seriously. Or, more annoyingly, I start off jokingly but then get preachy. Hopefully, Josefina doesn’t mind if I bend the rules and give more than one answer for many of “my five.” I never was much for following rules.
1. My dog, Gozer (and family, of course).
My serious answer would be my family - I’m blessed to have my parents and siblings in my life. They are my blood, the ones I didn’t choose to be with yet am lucky to be related to. Also, my extended family - the ones we choose to make a part of our lives - the lifelong friends and my girlfriend. I’d list them, but I’d miss someone, which would make me feel awful. Gozer is family, too, though. Ironically, he’s the only one that couldn’t care less about getting a shout-out, yet the unconditional love I get from him has healed me more often than I could say. He’s already an old man. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to handle losing him. He’s literally snoring next to me as I type this.
2. Time (downtime, that is)
I’m technically currently on sabbatical, which should include more downtime than it does. As usual, I’ve taken on far too many projects, so the sabbatical is hardly downtime. More significant would be the away-time: travel time. I miss travel so much. I’ve been to most of the continents and literally to scores of countries. I’ve also lived in other countries, notably London, England; Montreal, Quebec; and Bophuthatswana, South Africa (no longer technically exists, but on the border of Botswana). Travel made me a better person. I’m far from complete, but I believe travel has made me a more empathetic, understanding, and wiser person. I haven’t really traveled since COVID came into our lives, and I miss it madly. I was actually returning from New Zealand (my third trip there) when we first started to hear about the Coronavirus that would shut everything down months later.
3. Experiences
I suppose that leads to experiences, so I’ll blur #2 and #3 together. I have no silly and serious split answer here, but I do mean both good and bad experiences. I’ve been through some awful experiences - ones that nearly broke me - but also some amazing ones. Sometimes I have to remind myself of all the places I’ve been and the crazy things ten-year-old Tim would have never believed. Things like jumping out of planes, biking across the State of Nebraska (six times, and once across Iowa), giving a TED talk, presenting at the Sorbonne in Paris, having my art in museums, having my films win international awards, traveling through the heart of the Congo, touching a Kiwi bird, hanging out with penguins in the wild, eating bugs, dangling off Pulpit Rock, seeing the aurora borealis, countless glaciers on multiple continents, yelling at a President, and I’m currently writing a book. I could go on, but think about it: Your best memories are experiences, not possessions, aren’t they?
4. Music
Time spent lounging on the couch, with Gozer curled at my feet, spinning record after record… it’s almost healing. I haven’t had a TV in nearly a decade. It’s easy for me to live without television – I mean, I do have online subscriptions, so I can watch things online. Music, however, that’s a different story. I could have easily listed books instead of music since I was a voracious reader when I was younger. Sadly, I don’t spend as much time with books anymore. It’s a bit tragic. Music has taken over, but it sure got me through months of recovery after some scary times, like when my heart betrayed me and tried to kill me. Spinning records during months of recovery after open-heart surgery saved my sanity.
5. Art
This is a tough one. I use to be a “prolific artist,” as some friends labeled me. It was a massive part of my identity when I was younger. But, in an instant, my relationship with art changed overnight. You could search for my TEDx talk if you are curious why I no longer find joy in an art studio, but that’s too big a topic for here. I’ve struggled, again and again, to try and reconnect to art, but I rarely make anything anymore, and it’s hard to find joy in it now. I would have thought I couldn’t live without it, but I’ve realized I can.
I gave up art for years, but lately, I’ve been dipping my toes back in the creative waters. I don’t mean to end on a down note here, but as much as I miss things like travel, I don’t often find myself missing art. It happens, but only occasionally, although I tentatively still toy with it now and again. I wish I had that same passion, but the passion I once had continues to elude me. I’ve been told I’m also one of those “jack of all trades and master of none” (I could write a lengthy post about my issues with that phrase), so I don’t stick long with anything before I inevitably get bored and move on to something else.
Weirdly, politics has been the one thing that has kept me creating artwork, even if only to make juvenile pieces of art.
5.5. Politics?
Rather than continue that point above, I’ll cheat again and mention it as a postscript of sorts. Some friends will occasionally assume I enjoy politics.
I do not.
I loathe politics.
However, I could never say, “I’m not a political person,” and pretend I could live without it, as much as it annoys the crap out of me. However, to me, that would mean having no empathy for others. It would mean having no desire to try and make the future better. I don’t *like* being political - I’d prefer to be a humanitarian. But I don’t believe we can be neutral. So many others have made the point better than I did. For example:
“One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.” -Plato
“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere. When human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant. Wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion, or political views, that place must - at that moment - become the center of the universe.” -Elie Wiesel.
“The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis.” -Dante Alighieri
Politicians, and the greed of the ultra-wealthy, have made life miserable for many. However, in my own honest opinion, ignoring what’s happening is selfish and cruel. So, while I may hate politics, as most people understandably do, I can’t bury my head in the sand. Conversely, nor could I ever run for office (I would never get elected and would probably end up in some kind of scandal after going after some wing-nut lunatic I disagree with).
I use to think I could make a change with art. Sadly, I no longer believe that. Or, at least, I have failed to ever effect change with my work, and I rarely see it being successful for others. Hell, Jon Stewart (who I deeply admire) ran The Daily Show, and he kept us interested, entertained, and informed about politics. Really, though, how successfully did anything actually change? I’d argue very little. He certainly had a platform and seemingly the power necessary to effect change. Likewise, John Oliver entertains and informs, but we are still in the same place we were decades ago – maybe we’re even worse off – and they both enjoy a massive reach. Me, however, I’m just a schmuck in a fly-over State. I’ve failed to accomplish anything here.
I said I wouldn’t end on a negative note. Forgive me. This was supposed to just be about five things I can’t live without. I’d argue the five things should be clean air, water, and a healthy environment, including flora and fauna – basically, a healthy planet. I literally can’t live without those things.
See? I get preachy.
I’m like everyone else. I’m lucky to be alive, and I simply want happiness, safety, and good health – for myself as well as the rest of you and this planet we temporarily inhabit.