Guest column: Pandemic or not, we should create and tap into our curiosity. We need it.
Let’s start with where we see our casual acquaintances. We see them in the neighborhood, walking their dogs. We see them at work. We chat with them at our kids’ baseball games.
And then one day, we learn new things about them. Cool, interesting things that surprise us. We learn of their curious interests, their rabid obsessions, their crazy creativity. And we decide we like this about them.
Maybe it was the pandemic. In isolation, we became stir crazy. We needed an outlet. So, we reached for our pens and started sketching, or we decided to hop on our bike and photograph all the murals in Oklahoma City, or we felt compelled to take a deep dive into early jazz or woodwork or Byzantine literature.
We needed it because, well, we needed something.
And then, we decided to share it. We posted it, like the early days of social media, before everyone was arguing. And lo and behold, people liked it. Maybe not a ton, but enough to realize there’s a small audience that finds joy from our odd little diversions.
Recently I learned that my neighbor, David Dobson, an attorney — someone I clicked with via the music playlists I post — is the co-creator of a beautifully weird podcast called Alligator Farm. It’s a mix of eclectic music, oddball skits, improv and audio tricks. it’s somewhere between Dr. Demento, early Pink Floyd and Park Grubbs (if you know, you know), coming from the great tradition of do-it-yourself programming.
David and his friends Darren Dunn, Mike Waugh and Pete Young started the show “mostly to amuse ourselves,” David told me. “Sophomoric and absurdist, times 10. It’s definitely an acquired taste.”
Perhaps. But it found an audience. A low-watt radio station in Taos, New Mexico, discovered it, and airs it in the middle of the night — a fact that amuses David to no end.
Maybe it’s just in my orbit, but this seems to be happening a lot. People are expressing themselves in the most wonderfully surprising ways.
During the pandemic, our friend Shannon Lockwood decided to arrange — and demonstrate, online — “Peace Train” and “Uncle John’s Band” on the marimba. Lori Black, who co-owns Evoke Coffee in Edmond, started painting — an interest she had toyed with for years. She’s thriving, and says it’s great therapy. My wife, Lauren, an artist, discovered her love of horseback riding. One of my business partners, Aaron Fulkerson, wrote and recorded an album. Chris Griswold, an attorney, has written children’s books. Joel Everett, an old friend from Muskogee, painted a guitar for a fundraiser for veterans. A business acquaintance in Sioux City, Iowa, went headfirst into cake decorating. Friends drop ingredients on her porch, and she gets busy. It’s professional-caliber work, and so satisfying to see the comments online.
It serves as a reminder to act on our instincts to create and discover; to tap into our curiosity, fill our souls — and to share it with others. They need it. Maybe we all do.
Russ Florence lives and works in Oklahoma City. His column appears monthly in Viewpoints.
This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: Opinion: We should all create, tap into our curiosity. We need it.
