Chapter 10

Stuff and more stuff

"What to do with all this mess!" Pita exclaimed as Phil and I trudged box after box in from outside. "You've got so, so much stuff - all dusty and dog-eared."

I grunted as I stacked another too-heavy container of books on another one, careful that I was placing this load on top of something which could support its weight. All this stuff. I had to go through it to see what was worth keeping and what had to be thrown.

Pita picked at the top items as she opened box after box to see what was in them. She wrinkled her petite nose at some of them, giving polite sneezes on occasion when a puff of fine dust shot up as the air hit another box.

Phil was more pragmatic and direct. He grabbed the boxes as I brought them in and re-stacked them into categories, placing the artwork over by Pita and the engineering drawings as well as all the computer files and notes over by him. Philosophical and other pure theory also went into a pile on Pita's side of the room.

Pita finally gave up inspecting and sat down, these huge piles built near her colorful couch and its side tables. All of them were at arm's reach for her, placed thoughfully by Phil. She started picking at the artwork pile first, immediately getting wide-eyed and excited."Look, look at this! What a great composition... and this, we've got some great charater in those eyes. Love the texture here through the lines...." She went on, oowing and ahhing as she started through the pile, placing these in smaller piles on her tables and the broader part of her couch.

Phil sat back down at his drafting table and picked up one of the boxes. It was heavy, but looked small in his huge hands. He started removing all the CD's and floppies, stacking these carefully on his computer table, putting the manuals in another stack nearby. All the engineering drawings went on his sidetable, crisscrossed to keep them in order by subject.

I finally got the last of the boxes into the room, which somehow all fit, and collapsed in a chair nearby. I'd kept the analysis and strategic planning work near me so that I could review both the scope, accomplishments and continuing plans I had made so far.

All of us were bent over our various piles, smiling, frowning, quietly grunting or otherwise personally reacting to what we had found. Each of us had a round file next to us, as well as a new banker box with tabbed folders in it, in order to preserve the organization we were putting into it. Occasionally, one of us would get up, stretch and go down the hall to the kitchenette to get some more cafe-mocha and cookies, bringing some back for all.

The wastebaskets accepted everything we threw in them, the file box held all the papers stuffed in there and never ran out of files or space. The piles of boxes and crates slowly dwindled down. Phil had unleashed his robotic sweeper as more floor space showed, so that the room could be reclaimed for its usual work. Pita turned the air cleaner on high to move the dust out as well as some of the old-paper must out of the room. She had piped her music player into the room's sound system at a low background level.

At last all three sat quietly, having placed the last piece of paper in their respective file boxes and were each contemplating what they had just reviewed, digesting and summarizing the data. Sipping their mugs, each had their own view of Herbert's life to that point.

What they were after was a comprehensive plan of what to do with it from this point. Pita knew his artistic abilities and creative drive. Phil was intimate with his ability to construct things from the existing and to plan things out which had never been put together in that format before, as well as his ability to envision new developments and work these backwards into what could be created now, with tools and materials to hand. Herbert himself was concentrating on what strategies he had mapped out for himself, his hopes and dreams and whether or to what degree these had been accomplished.

Each was alone with their own thougts in the room, only the murmering of the background music(which had dropped to a near mute level once the sorting had completed) and the quiet ticking of the old-fashioned clock on the wall made any sound at all.

Herbert was the first to break this silence, "It is up to me to start out this discussion, I guess. We need to find out what resources are there, as well as where we'be been, so we can figure where we are going and how to get there."

Pita: "I was astonished at how much artwork you've done and in so many different areas. You could get a job in any one of these fields. What we're missing is a portfolio which showcases your different talents."

Phil: "But you are also talented at all these construction trades as well as a pretty decent computer repairman and network administrator. We should look at how to utilize these talents as well."

Me: "One thing I noticed from reviewing all these various strategies is the development of a coherent and cognitive reasoning and writing style which is written in a straight-forward and simple format. While the planning seems to still roll down one main lane, I can't quite put my finger on the direction it is taking."

Phil: "I still stick to something Pita said the other day, about your constantly working to improve the lot of humankind."

Me: "True, but that won't necessarily get me a job."

Phil: "But it has to be part of the mix..."

Pita: "...and will need to take into account all your skills. We are really writing a resume, but fleshing it out with your artwork and skills..."

Phil: "...all highlighted with a combination resume/portfolio/multimedia package which shows all that you have worked on. The technical end of your accomplishments needs to be highlighted..."

Pita: "...and shown off with the graphic arts training you've done, albeit this is all self-trained."

Me: "That is the kicker which we are working with. All this time in the cult hasn't given me anything of particular use as far as sheepskins or awards I could use. All the certificates they have are worth bubkus outside. But that's based on what I know of the 'outside,' which is limited at best."

Pita: "But certain things you know for a fact..."

Phil: "...and what you don't know, you can discover in a hurry - just have to get onto the Internet for real when you get out of here."

Me: "There is that. A 'quick study,' I think it's called. OK, we can build this portfolio. Looks like we can do a website and also have the same pages converted to printable format. We'll include a CD as part of it, so this will show off my computer skills as well. The whole thing needs to be designed as a respectable package that I can show to my potential employers."

Pita, giggling: "Oooh, that sounds great - a simple format where we can showcase our stuff. I can lay this out in a kind of conservative format and we can output through that new color printer you've been using..."

Phil, fairly bubbling: ...and the format would be real user-friendly; we could include all your animations on that CD, there's tons of room for stuff that wouldn't fit on any Internet link, but we could actually set links on there which would always go to your current website. Even make a mini-CD version which could go to that site for updates, but this would mean setting up a website as a continuing action by you..."

Pita, sketchpad out and her hands moving furiously to record her impressions: "...and that would integrate with the portfolio, having the same color-theme and motif - real branding for you. Later we could expand it to include your artwork and sell this online, which of course means you would have to work on this a bit of the time, too, but I don't think you would really mind doing artwork, especially if you could get paid to do it - but now you can branch into fine art..."

Phil, laying out site schematics on his drawing board: "...as well as continue on your researches into broadband and rural communities. With wireless, we could even do the tests on the farm and maybe branch out into a farm network, where you could access your personal server from anywhere on the farm with a laptop or PDA, meaning you could make notes or search the Internet for data - we could even incorporate non-profit activities into it and maybe get some grants to finance all your work, ..."

Pita, still sketching, pausing only to gesture broadly as she spoke: "...and think how much you could get done while on a daily walk - photograph something with your digital camera, upload this to your server and have it secure, so you could never run out of 'film' as you could then just upload your photo's from anywhere on the farm. With a tablet pc, you could do your artwork outside, 'plein air' and all that."

Me, laughing: "Well, you all certainly are on a roll now. Especially in committing me to all these ways to divide up my time - I do have to work, you know, to pay the bills I have. I don't have any transport, so that will have to be solved when I get there.

"But with that settled, I'm more concerned with where we are going. This is the factor which seems to really drive the present: what I want to accomplish in the immediate and further future. There's getting a job, which is all well and good, but what are we going to do once I get there?"

Both Pita and Phil stopped their sketching and drawing and looked at me, quiet, contemplative.

I continued, "I have some idea that there is some job I should be doing. When I had asked myself what I was doing at the Center, what I was trying to accomplish, the answer came back: you are in training. For what? There was no answer.

"This is the essential of why I am moving to the Midwest and out of LA. I seek to find that which I have been training for. I know that here lies only dead-ends and conflict with what I can accomplish compared to what I am being left to accomplish. I should be DOING something with my life. That is, afterall, the whole substance to this thing - the psychs call it a 'midlife crisis,' but I just call it getting fed up with nonsense and wanting to do something for myself for a change, something that contributes to something larger and helps people.

"With that integrated portfolio/resume package, we have a very good start. It shows people what I can do and all of that which I've studied and trained myself on over the time I've been at Center. How to segue that over into something practically useful to others is another scene entirely.

"I've worked so long at non-profit efforts, I don't know how I'll adapt to the mercenary profit-seeking out there which I've heard and read about."

Pita, just above a mutter: "Well, those free mags you get on computers don't do much to tell you more than how Big Business does their computer stuff."

Phil, defensive: "And your free magazines about digital art and largeformat printing do much more?"

Pita, hackles raised: "But these are real jobs that he can do..."

Phil, now flushed: "...and I suppose that computer jobs aren't real, especially where people can't get their VCR's to do anything but blink 12:00, 12:00, 12:00,..."

I interrupted: "Ok, OK -- the thing is that we don't know what is actually out there and won't know until we get there. That is what is making us tense. We have to work with what we know and what we are certain of.

"I know how to survive in this environment, this was proved by being able to have no assigned job and in being able to continue working along with all the people around me - effectively coming and going as I chose. As well, no one particularly was able to do anything to handle my scene - because they didn't want to, not because I wouldn't let them. And when some did, they couldn't argue with my logic or references.

"What is out there is theoretically simpler. I'll move in with the folks, at least for now, which means I won't have to worry about food or rent and definately not worry about exercise. So I can spread myself thin through a job to pay for a truck to drive to work in, as well as get a footing in what I am going to accomplish. I'll have a great deal more time to get some other work done, particularly in sorting out what I am to accomplish in this lifetime.

"For now, let's get that portfolio/resume package together. We've already cut out a big chunk of pie to eat."

Phil and Pita smiled, relieved and this. They then turned back to their respective drawing board/pads. Phil turned up the talk-radio, Pita put her headphones on and started quietly humming. Both were scratching away at what they had to get done.

I rose, hefted the box of planning under my arm and left them to their work.