Great Sunday note, Jim. It would be wonderful if leaders and others combobulated more, instead of reacting. And I like your coining "inversions of creativity" for these perversions of politics.
By the way, you know very well why you don't beat your neighbour at chess. You like to play but you don't like to study. And chess is a game that rewards study. Fortunately, you also know why you play—because you enjoy it. And there's nothing wrong with mostly losing if you both enjoy it. We have to follow our obsessions. You chose writing (or it chose you), and we're better off for it.
What a very kind comment, Angus. Thank you for that. And I do study a bit, with Igor Smirnoff, who I recomend to anyone who loves the game. And, I'm getting better, but slowly because Zdenek is very good. Interestingly, he speaks no English and me no Czech, but we have become very close friends, with our love of the game and a bit of intervention from Misha.
It's funny how a completely silent game of chess actually feels like a conversation, isn't it? I like Igor's videos, too. Starting to get back into it now the kids are starting to play.
I hear there's a surge in adding chess to US elementary schools, which I think is a really positive idea. Such a beneficial way to train the mind to 'alternatives.' If they followed up with debate, I'd be a happy camper.
This resonates. The constant noise of modern life makes it hard to find those moments of combobultion. I've noticed that my best ideas come when I'm staring out the window or walking without headphones, not when I'm tryng to force productivity. Your Picasso point about creativity being beaten out of us hits hard. We celebrate busy culture while wondering why we feel so scattered and burned out.
Great Sunday note, Jim. It would be wonderful if leaders and others combobulated more, instead of reacting. And I like your coining "inversions of creativity" for these perversions of politics.
By the way, you know very well why you don't beat your neighbour at chess. You like to play but you don't like to study. And chess is a game that rewards study. Fortunately, you also know why you play—because you enjoy it. And there's nothing wrong with mostly losing if you both enjoy it. We have to follow our obsessions. You chose writing (or it chose you), and we're better off for it.
What a very kind comment, Angus. Thank you for that. And I do study a bit, with Igor Smirnoff, who I recomend to anyone who loves the game. And, I'm getting better, but slowly because Zdenek is very good. Interestingly, he speaks no English and me no Czech, but we have become very close friends, with our love of the game and a bit of intervention from Misha.
It's funny how a completely silent game of chess actually feels like a conversation, isn't it? I like Igor's videos, too. Starting to get back into it now the kids are starting to play.
I hear there's a surge in adding chess to US elementary schools, which I think is a really positive idea. Such a beneficial way to train the mind to 'alternatives.' If they followed up with debate, I'd be a happy camper.
This resonates. The constant noise of modern life makes it hard to find those moments of combobultion. I've noticed that my best ideas come when I'm staring out the window or walking without headphones, not when I'm tryng to force productivity. Your Picasso point about creativity being beaten out of us hits hard. We celebrate busy culture while wondering why we feel so scattered and burned out.
Thanks for the note. Resonating, if only for someone, is why we write...