Imagine you are standing at the top of a staircase in a city, surrounded by your customary life. You have your cell phone, and wallet in your pocket. You hear and feel the rush of cars bolting past you and the drone of their horns. As you carefully dodge sidewalk traffic, you are distracted by a fleeting thought I have an appointment at 1:30. You are a figment of society. Take a few steps down that staircase. The drone of the car horns begins to dim. The sunlight is no longer so blinding. You turn and notice the brick walls to your sides and the cement steps beneath your feet. You are curious.
You take another couple steps down. You turn around and sense you are invisible from the street and have been separated from your previous anxiety. You have lost track of your belongings. Instead, you notice the heat of the day, the humidity, the sticky brick walls. Your curiosity draws you to descend further. You feel the sweat on your palms. As you hold the railing you feel the metal getting cooler as you continue to descend away from the sunlight. With each step you notice the outside world is beginning to fade. The horns become increasingly faint and you no longer have to squint from the sunlight. As you put one foot in front of the other, progressing down the steps, you realize your surroundings have muted your ordinary existence. You sit down on the next step and reflect.
After a few moments peering into the darkness, you think, what is down here? That thought quickly turns into, what am I doing here? Now that you have been stripped of your societal attachments, you are left alone with yourself to focus--a strange feeling considering you are constantly preoccupied with quotidian tasks. With each step you have eliminated a component of what you experience daily and it is only through experiencing this elimination that you can see what is missing; your daily existence consists of a network of influences that you haven’t realized until this moment. Care to take a walk further down the stairwell?
That unusual feeling--the one you get when you are finally alone--summons a part of your consciousness you have likely forgotten about. You perceive the most unexpected details and, for a good reason, they strike you differently. The textures, the lighting, the color combinations, the sounds- these are all things that often go unnoticed or simply blend in. Since becoming an event planner the world looks very different to me. I find I must notice all the little things…the details are so important and it is often in the little details that I find my inspiration and creative design ideas. It’s amazing how much more you see if you slow down and examine what you once thought to be regular or ordinary. Playing off of Andy Warhol’s concept of transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary, it’s the littlest details that make the difference in the event business. It’s all about how you can then put your own spin on that little detail or how you made the ordinary pop!
I often imagine I’m still sitting on that staircase, still extracted from the view of city that I am accustomed to. My cell phone and wallet are unimportant in relation to my new possession--awareness. Pleased with myself, I stand. The hustle and bustle of the city begins to emerge as I climb back up the stairs. My ears are pleased--back to reality. I check my watch and parade boldly onto the street. It is one thirty. Better get to that appointment!
by Julie Pike, Event Planner
No comments:
Post a Comment