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Team Building

The woman, who runs the team I’ve joined, is taking the group to see the eclipse tomorrow. It’s a team building exercise. She organized an early breakfast meeting, after which, the team will be picked up a chauffeur driven SUV. We’ll observe the eclipse at the Space Foundation Discovery Center in Colorado Springs. After a late lunch on the company dine, we’ll head back to the office to finish the day. Getting paid to watch the eclipse. That’s a good thing.

Paper As The Medium

I finally managed to see the Paper.Works exhibit at the Arvada Center for the Arts and Humanities. There is only one more day left in the run. The exhibit consists of works by twenty artists who use paper as their artistic medium. The show is excellently curated. Here are some of my favorites:

Michael McClung, Untitled 1, burned vellum on mat board, $2,500

Jenene Nagy, Older Than The Host 11, graphite on folded paper, $2,400

Mike Neff, Cut The Rainbow, hand cut paper, $180 – $250

Myron Melnick, Fetish Futurismo, burnished cast paper, $7,000

An Uncontrolled Epidemic

There’s an uncontrolled epidemic in the office. Many men are wearing white socks with dress pants and dress shoes. It’s an odd look. There’s also a lot of nose picking, but not in a covert way. Right out in the open! It must be a cultural thing.

Yesterday, I had a conversation with my manager at the consulting company in New York. I asked him why the client hired me because they have not given me any assignments. According to my manager, I was hired because I had the best communication skills of all the candidates interviewed, and I could hold my own with the VP. The client wanted me under contract so I wouldn’t accept another offer. He also alluded that being a white male was also a qualifying factor. A white male helping another white male. Is that a justifiable form of affirmative action when most of the workers are Indian?

I have attended one three-hour conference call and obtained access to a few secure client portals. Other than that, I have done nothing. I sit at my plastic table by the window and try to look busy. Most days are spent watching the traffic on I-25. Sometimes I follow the private jets taking off and landing at Centennial Airport. I would read blogs and cruise the net but my laptop is visible as soon as others enter the office. I guess I should enjoy the downtime. Others have told me there are many projects entering the pipeline in the next thirty days. I may miss the slow time soon.

Calder At DBG

Calder: Monumental is currently on exhibit at the Denver Botanic Gardens’ York Street Facility. Have a look if you’re in town.

After my first day at work, I met Perry at the museum for the opening of Common Ground: Photographs by Fazal Sheikh, 1989 – 2013. The exhibit has more than 170 portraits and landscape photographs. They convey stories of people living in displaced and marginalized communities around the world.

I wasn’t in a good mood. The work day hadn’t gone well. I had to commute in rush hour traffic. I was tired and hungry. I was in a down mood about the job and my life. I thought my life sucked. I was tempted to blow off the event but I had committed to going. And I always keep my word.

The exhibit sounded like a major buzz kill. I sucked it up, put a smile on my face, and entered the museum even though inside I wanted to go home and climb in bed.

The photographs were stunningly beautiful sepia toned and black and white images. Many of the photos were taken in East Africa, India, Pakistan and Afghanistan. Towards the end of the exhibit a room was dedicated to photos of a woman living in the Asylum Seeker’s Center in Amsterdam. Men broke into her house and raped her in front of her children after killing her father. Her mother died a week later. Her house was traded for passage to Denmark. The funds only allowed the woman and her son leave. Her husband and two daughters were left behind in Somalia.

I felt like reality bitch-slapped me when I left the room. My life is a walk in the park compared to what this woman has endured, and continues to experience. I’m an over-privileged white man feeling down about a job with hefty paycheck, but less than ideal parameters. I regretted feeling sorry for myself because of truly insignificant issues. I have never experience hardships like this woman, or the other subjects in the photos, have suffered. I felt ashamed of myself.

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