modesty, craftsmanship, and tenderness
Me again.
Inspiration from the book Art & Fear again.
Today’s quote:
“It’s been a tough century for modesty, craftsmanship, and tenderness.”
(I note that quote was published in 1993, so it referred to the Twentieth Century, not the current one.
Good grief.)
What a quote! I wanted to analyze it, because it obviously places value on those three purported virtues: modesty, craftsmanship, and tenderness.
Are those things we should value?
And what are their opposites?
Instagram-famous, look at me culture. (“Culture”?)
Mass-produced, sanitized everything.
(And these days with a pandemic, everything is literally sanitized to protect us)
And … what is the opposite of tenderness?
Meanness. Ugliness. Bullying.
But I’m not sure I have a problem with Kardashian Kulture, art in Aisle D47 of Target, and things being a little rough.
Perhaps it’s because Instagram culture is kind of egalitarian. Anyone can do it if they have the phone on which to put Instagram—and while there are the curated styles of white-drenched interiors and tan girls in bikinis—I also think you can find your own tribe and your own aesthetic, or make it up.
Target gives us art we want to buy at a much more affordable price. And it makes pretty things available to everyone, even those who think they can’t paint. What can I say? I like things from Target as much as I like the wabi-sabi antique orange crates I find in my barn. Both have a place. Target gives me unbreakable plastic glasses that look like slumped glass—but I can bring them around the pool and not worry. I can drag out Ikea linens, put them over a salvaged table, and enjoy a meal with my family.
And while I certainly advocate for tenderness, being a true romantic, I can’t help but acknowledge that we need the contrasting emotions of anger, sadness, and so on, for us to value those moments of kindness.
While I love the quote and felt moved by it, I’m not as cynical as that quote feels. I also think the quote has hope embedded in it:
That there are people who root for modesty, keeping a quiet elegance of their own and not calling attention to themselves. But still living a gorgeous and authentic life.
That many people have pride in creating something all their own, and that craftsmanship doesn’t have to be a wooden cabinet for chrissake. It could be the craftsmanship of a detailed bullet journal that keeps your brain sane and delights your sense of order.
And tenderness? Just take a moment to find a nurse who makes sure the patient is warm and comfortable in the hospital bed. The teacher who listens to the longwinded explanation from a five-year-old about that thing that happened on the playground. The musician who caresses the keys and coaxes out music with a heartbreaking poignancy that makes a stadium cry.
What I take away from that quote, mostly, is to look for more modesty, craftsmanship, and tenderness, and to celebrate those qualities among the noise. I don’t condemn the noise. But I also know what goes on under the surface is often the most interesting.
You just have to dig deep to find it.
But that’s where you find the treasure.