Say Less, Do More

Photo: Death to the Stock Photo.

The motto of our newsletter is “Say less, do more.” When I received my latest delivery of free photographs from Death to the Stock Photo along with Paul Jarvis‘s writing prompt on making space for creativity, I reflected on my winter morning experiences. These days, I’m stepping into the snowy East Coast climate, sometime pre-dawn, and the world is blanketed with white. White covers the ground and the trees and even the sky. I’m promising myself I’ll remember the true melody of non-existent harmony, lost in the steady hum of a singular note. I’m not talking about the occasional crow that inserts himself into the scene, not in body but in his beckoning to another bird that I also cannot see. And I’m not talking about the sound of my own thread-like breath that does show up in a thin stream like the magic of mist over an early-Spring lake. There is no green here, not yet (though I know and you know it’s coming). I’m talking about the one true sound that emanates from pure nothingness, the hollow reverberation that can lead to enlightenment or a trip down crazy lane if force fed through solitary confinement. The writers of the world do this to themselves. Lock away in cabins with no contact. It’s okay. They always seem to come back better off than when they left. I’m certain that’s because even the most standoffish are given time enough to come down from their heights and share stares through a window pane, though certainly nothing more divisive than that. Perhaps even eating out of a hand. Feathers are friendly when given the chance.

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“The motto of our newsletter is “Say less, do more.”

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“…stepping into the snowy East Coast climate…the world is blanketed with white.”

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“…remember the true melody of non-existent harmony, lost in the steady hum of a singular note.”

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“The writers of the world do this to themselves. Lock away in cabins with no contact.”

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“Feathers are friendly when given the chance.”

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Lemons

Photo credit: Compfight

There’s a farmhouse en route from one meaningful location to another. Near dusk, there will be a woman in her showroom kitchen, a full bowl of lemons on the middle island. Impossible, I’ll consider. Impossible to have such picturesque fruit day in, day out. But no, every time. Regardless of 30 mph around the 15 mph curve, the bowl of lemons is topped off like the cameras are coming, and the skin is perfect. How do I know? I know because even in the hint of a later-setting sun (each day the sun sets just a bit later, you know, no matter it’s February and everything hurts) I can see how effortlessly she claims her space. And who, in that position, would not keep a perfect bowl of lemons to float one hand over while drying the other on a slender hip. If ever I were to be invited (and I will not), how would I get to that room? Thirst off the bat? Choking on crumbs from a make-believe meal? Or, I’ve been watching for a year. Let me see those lemons. Each so-called solution is an intrusion. Utter falsehoods, aside from the lemons. Though what if? What if there are small brown spots and too-softs under the pretties, just like my bowl. What if the meal is never perfect and the hour he walks in the door is dangerously close to the shadow on the wall. Worse yet, what if everything is indeed perfect and all I can do is go home.

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“I can see how effortlessly she claims her space.”

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“Thirst off the bat? Choking on crumbs from a make-believe meal?”

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“Worse yet, what if everything is indeed perfect and all I can do is go home.”

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Custom Made For Brooklyn

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This gallery contains 2 photos.

Silver winter nights are custom made for Brooklyn. Bits of metal in the air and the blue light has no edges. Tiny remnants of pine hide out somewhere between unused snow and glimpses of star. Urgency and all-the-time-in-the-world marks the … Continue reading

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Juno

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Ah, Blizzard Juno. The first storm of 2015. You stopped by and were generous with your self-control. Just enough snow and wind and closures to really feel like winter without rendering us immobile. I’m not tired of your residue yet. Your decorated landscape shows a knack for season-appropriate design. And the padding absorbs so many sounds yet amplifies the ones that seem most important: tiny winter birds, little claws on dry trees, wind chimes, breath of course and I am nearly convinced that if you listen closely, the passing of shadow by the hour.

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Impulse and Wisdom

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Paired with wisdom, impulse is your secret weapon.

Image courtesy of WikiMedia Commons. “Wisdom” mural by Robert Lewis Reid. This image is available for use and in the public domain (http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wisdom-Reid-Highsmith.jpeg)

 

How do you pair impulse and wisdom in business? Your comments are king below. 

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Burst My Bubble: 3 Uplifting Tips

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This gallery contains 5 photos.

My bubble got burst by several colleagues in one day, the old fashioned way. Snail mail. A postal pile-up. Bang, Bang, Bang. An entrepreneurial story goes something like this: work; work harder; burn out; take break; back to work; work … Continue reading

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Clutch

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I’m not built for coffee. No matter the artsy bird sketch. It makes me feel like I need to go the hospital. #stilldrinkingit #leftoverincoffeepot #teahound #help

 

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Twitter on Twitter

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There is hardly anything more fun than Googling “Twitter on Twitter.”

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Virtue of Small: What Might CEO Piglet Say?

“To my mind the old masters are not art; their value is in their scarcity.” ~ Thomas Edison
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Image courtesy of HubSpot

Do you milk re-purpose bygone posts written when there was time to create content for your website? Cobbler with no shoes sighs. Bloggers, companies, marketers, PR experts, social media strategists and finger-on-the pulse peeps often conclude content wears the crown: dishing up data, insights and generally good information propels us to sharable status on social media platforms, provides important resources for current and would-be clients and keeps us in the industry A List.

Agreed. And Ruh Ro. What if you buy into aforementioned perks yet find it difficult to churn out blog brilliance on the regs due to Smallness?

Imagine Mr. Edison duking it out with Gates.* “Hooray!” I exclaim as the former wields a powerful upper cut. But my eyes drop as I sniff out smarminess.

Comeback kid retorts “But the broad opportunities for most companies involve supplying information or entertainment. No company is too small to participate.” Thanks for bringing attention to this Bill Gates snippet Craig Bailey.

Small. And harumph.

Wait! Consider The Te of Piglet. In a land of Big Everything, why not capitalize on the Virtue of Small. Potential includes:

  • Precision
  • Expertise
  • Tailored attention
  • Depth
In a land of Big Everything, why not capitalize on the Virtue of Small.
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Being Small allows the luxury of capitalizing on extreme pin-pointedness, far reach into a client’s objectives, experimenting under-the-radar and tremendous opportunity for growth. All this and more applies to delivering business results as well as adventures in blogging.

Image courtesy of All Free Vectors

“You haven’t the time!” exclaimed Rabbit rushing to his next appointment.
“You’re barely noticeable anyway.” said Owl on his lunch break.
“I know! Isn’t it great?” cheered Piglet.

As always, your comments are king. Please feel free to share.

*I’d pay money to watch that fight. Not very Zen, I know.

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“I Don’t Live Right”

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We found this on Meanjin online and originally came across this in print in the New Yorker some many moons ago. Can’t help but choke up on that last line. There is something about communication in the purest sense of the word that just gets us every time.

 

Dear Philip Roth:

Manuscripts around here shift and wander in huge piles, like the dunes. Yours turned up today, and I apologize to you for my disorder. It hurts me more. … My reaction to your story (“Expect the Vandals”) was on the positive side of the scale, strongly. … A great idea, but palpably Idea. I have a thing about Ideas in stories. Camus’s “The Plague” was an IDEA. Good or bad? Not so hot, in my opinion. With you the Idea gains ground fast, easily. It conquers. What of Moe?

Look, try Henry Volkening at 522 Fifth Ave. My agent. A very good one, too. Best of luck. And forgive my having the mss. so long. I should have read it at once. But I don’t live right.

Yrs,

Saul Bellow

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