What is your main complaint?

I traveled to Chicago for meetings last week, and had a couple of hours free before they started.  I walked down the street from my hotel to the Museum of Contemporary Art, and there was introduced to a South African artist named William Kentridge, several of whose works are currently on display.  Kentridge makes animated films by drawing in charcoal and pastel on large sheets of paper; he then makes minor changes to the drawing, photographing each iteration and turning it into a film.  The effect is something like the the flipbooks of animated stick figures that we used to draw as children, except much more elaborate and much longer.

I was particularly struck by one film titled History of the Main Complaint, created in 1996 during the initial hearings of South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission that was formed to publicly air the crimes of apartheid.  In the nearly six minute film, Soho Eckstein, a notorious South African mining magnate, lies ill on a hospital bed as doctors crouch over him to determine his illness.  When they look inside him, they discover scenes of apartheid's atrocities for which he is guilty, both directly and indirectly as a result of his race and class.  Only when Eckstein acknowledges his own role in perpetuating the crimes of apartheid does he regain consciousness.  (You can see a bootleg version of the film here to get an idea of how the drawings turn into film.  If you are in Chicago, I recommend a trip to the museum to see it yourself.)

It is a powerful film just considering the main message of reconciliation after apartheid.  But it was thought-provoking to me on a second level because of the other images that the doctors saw when the examined Eckstein, a prominent businessman:  the office equipment--typewriter, seal press, and other machines that indicate that Eckstein was pursuing profit at the expense of all else.  Part of what allowed the horrors of apartheid to continue as long as they did was that it was profitable for the ruling class to allow them to continue.  The mighty businessman failed to see how his apparently unrelated pursuit of profit was contributing to the horrors of the world around him.

A question popped into my mind, an American businessman in 2012, as I watched it:  what would Kentridge's doctors find in me if they examined me?  Surely an iPad would show up, and the latest iPhone, and a Blackberry, and maybe a computer, and what about a copy machine?  How easy it is to get caught up in the rat race of work, career, money, status, and power and not realize the effect it is having on those around me.  Happily, there is nothing on the scale of apartheid going on in Georgia right now, but what if I were to consider just the family and friends around me each day.  When I stare at one of my screens while they try to talk to me, what message does that send?  When I spend an extra hour at work, who is really losing out?   What are the unintended consequences of my quest for status and achievement?

We have to work for a living, and it is good to try to do our best at what we do.  But beware the effects of pursuing relentlessly the world's definition of success.  You are more than what you do (unlike Eckstein, as Kentridge draws him).  There is more to life than achievement; it is not the edifices of stone that you construct at work that will support you in the end; it is the soft and tender moss of relationships and memories that you form with those around you that will endure, comfort, and strengthen you.

What would Kentridge's doctors find if they looked into your life?

How to Kill an Afternoon in Atlanta

I live in metro Atlanta, a region that is a crossroads rather than a destination for most business travelers, who pass through Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport on their way to somewhere else. But what if Atlanta is your final destination? This brief guide will give the business traveler to Atlanta a few ideas to make the most of her time between meetings.

• Even without your kids in tow, the Georgia Aquarium is worth a visit downtown. The main tank in the world's largest aquarium holds over 6 million gallons of water behind the second largest window the world, offering stunning views of the whale sharks, rays, grouper, and thousands of other fish; you can feel as if you are standing on the bottom of the ocean. Half an hour in front of the window watching the fish glide by is a remarkable way to relax after a stressful morning meeting.
• If you are more a plant person than an animal person, the Atlanta Botanical Garden in Midtown offers a variety of exhibits both indoors and out, including a nice collection of orchids, and is compact enough to get through in a couple of hours. The new canopy walk through the treetops is proving popular, too. Best of all, the garden is located adjacent to Piedmont Park, the finest public space in Atlanta, and a pleasant place to stroll or jog if you are here in the temperate months (late September through May).
  
• At the High Museum of Art in Midtown, the highlight may be the buildings themselves, a 1983 Richard Meier classic which was further improved by a Renzo Piano-designed expansion that opened in 2005. Check to see if one of the regular blockbuster exhibitions is on while you are here; if not, the best part of the permanent collection is the top floor of the new Wieland Pavilion, where natural light filters through a specially-designed high ceiling onto a part of the Contemporary art collection. If you don't believe that architecture can affect your perceptions and mood, visit this space.
  
• For the quintessential Atlanta shopping experience, head to Lenox Mall in Buckhead. Built in the late 1950s as an outdoor shopping center, expanded and covered since then, it has been THE place to shop in Atlanta since it opened. Housing both everyman department stores and luxury boutiques, this is the place to see metro Atlanta's mix of society matrons, hip-hop urbanites, modernist hipsters, and suburban families, all in one place.
• Atlanta is a great restaurant town, but if I had to pick just one place to recommend to a traveler staying in the downtown convention district, I would recommend French American Brasserie on Ivan Allen Jr Blvd. Walkable from all the convention hotels, FAB offers excellent French comfort food, Parisian-inspired decor, friendly service, and a cool rooftop bar that is an ideal place for an aperitif. Your clients will be impressed that you know about this place.
  

Magical Time

Our home is filled with four children, which means every evening from about 6:00 to 8:30 or so is what we call the "triple witching hour", filled with hungry and tired kids, messy rooms, cooking, dirty dishes, baths, bedtime stories, and other activities typical of suburban American families. It is chaotic, noisy, and exhausting, and it gets repeated every night.

But for the past few evenings, blessed by lovely late-spring Georgia weather, Sylvia and I have been able to recover from triple witching hour by sitting on our back patio, under the canopy of trees that surrounds the back of our house, while dusk falls. The calmness is restorative, and mentally invigorating. The sky slowly fades from the light blue of afternoon into gray, then to dark gray, then to the dark blue of night as the few stars that are able to shine through the urban light pollution twinkle in the heavens. The sounds add to the effect: the ubiquitous traffic noise of inside-the-perimeter Atlanta forms the background, but does not overpower the bark of a distant dog, the rustle of leaves in the dusky breeze, the occasional chirp of a late bird, the soft splash of our neighbor's pool fountain. This week even smell has come into play: the gardenias along our back wall are in full bloom, bathing us with fragrance on the evening breeze.

Our stress level falls with the dimming light; although I am in general a morning person, I have to admit this is a magical time of day. As I watch the earth fall asleep, it is easy to let the cares and concerns of today fade away with the light. Tomorrow will bring a new sun and a new opportunity to work and worry and strive and play. For now, we let our mind rest, just as the earth rests.

These evenings are a good reminder: sometimes it is doing nothing that makes all the difference.

Diversions

There are many ways for bored office workers to waste time. Doodling has been popular for decades, and chatting at the water cooler or at a colleague's cubicle are standard. Technology has dramatically expanded the possibilities: first came Solitare, and now Facebook and Twitter disguise time wasting with a thin veneer of respectability. ("I'm networking.")

Occasionally a diversion turns into a worthy pursuit itself. That sudoku puzzle not only helps pass the time on your commute, but it also keeps your brain young. Crossword puzzles build vocabulary; language tapes exercise the mind, too. Many artists feel they can't support themselves with their art, so their doodles become a meaningful outlet for creativity. A worthy diversion, in fact, is one that aids in the avoidance of real work; requires thought or creativity; and has the potential for being useful or artistic in its own right.

The creator(s) of this map achieved all three to perfection. It is an anagram map of the London subway system; every station name has been replaced with its anagram. (To compare them with the real station names, click here.) Imagine the time spent on this diversion! Admire the creativity! Marvel at the tenacity to stick with the project to completion after the obvious ones were done! What a marvelous example of a diversion turned to art.

May all your work avoidance schemes yield such sublime results.