Where I Meet Us

Do you know what a mobius strip is? Four months ago, while reading a book written by Parker Palmer, I was introduced to the concept. And while I do not feel qualified to speak about a geometric form discovered by a German mathematician; I recently had an experience that felt like traveling a mobius strip.  And I cannot help but feel it holds a meaningful connection to YOU.logy and where we are as a collective community. So, with great humility, I am going to attempt to introduce the concept and share with you about my recent experience.

To create a mobius strip you cut a 1-to-2-inch strip of paper, give one end a half twist and attach the two ends together. The resulting form is a loop with only one continuous surface. But don’t take my word for it, test it out. Grab a pencil and start marking where the two ends meet. Continue to trace along the entire surface until you rejoin the original mark. What did you discover? Somehow the entire strip of paper front and back has been marked and you never actively left one side and entered another. Remarkable, right? One subtle transition and what was once defined with dualistic qualities ceases to be so.

So why does any of this matter? Well, in large part it was because I was able to have a full YOU.logy moment last week and it felt incredibly linked to this obscure concept.

HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED:

My husband Ken is an abstract painter and was recently offered representation by a new gallery in downtown Minneapolis. Late last month, Christy, the gallery manager made a few selections, asked Ken to augment her choices and we dropped off six pieces. But last week Ken received a message from her saying “she had painted herself into a curatorial corner and was hopeful he could drop off some additional pieces.”  We had them available, loaded up the car and headed downtown.

By the time we walked into the gallery, about 90% of the exhibition had been hung and my heart leapt with joy at her creation. Every wall and vantage point within the space was a dynamic and graceful visual transition. I was immediately transported back to my own experience of staging art exhibitions, and I instantly felt a deep appreciation for what she had achieved. This encounter did not just feel nostalgic and familiar, it was also inspiring and profound in ways I am still trying to unpack.

When we owned our gallery, my selection process started as an invitation for certain artists to join us during a specific exhibition schedule. Those choices reflected some cohesion within their styles or themes, but I rarely hand selected the specific pieces that would be shown. Instead, I preferred letting the artists choose which pieces they wanted to show. Once everything had been dropped off, I went to work finding relationships and creating transitions among the pieces. As far as I was concerned, this was simply good old-fashioned FUN.

I started by pairing pieces that naturally extended a “visual handshake” to another. Then I would extend outward, attempting to make the whole vignette harmonious with no one piece commanding more attention than another. I held such concern for the collective whole that often I would avoid transitions that could be perceived as jarring or too contrasting. But while standing in the Kickernick Gallery and observing how Christy had done her pairings, I realized she utilized differences between pieces in a far braver way than I ever did.

During this second trip to the gallery, we spent equal time viewing her curatorial work, discussing her process, and managing business details. Through our conversation, I discovered Christy’s process started like mine. She made selections based on personal preference and there was not some preconceived master plan. It was clear she placed pieces next to others that shared something in common, BUT her particular brand of magic was found in how she skillfully leveraged differences.

For example, on one wall, she paired one of Ken’s abstract paintings with a highly representational street scene. Stylistically, they could not have been any more contrasting; yet their shared colors easily permitted a visual point of agreement. But by placing such distinctive differences in such close proximity to each other, I found myself viewing pieces that would have otherwise fallen outside of my personal preferences. And not only was I viewing them, I was actively exploring them! Each piece in the exhibit was enhanced specifically because of the contrasting presence she had so skillfully placed next to it.

During that visit, I felt like I walked into a visual representation of the best kinds of conversations where there is full engagement between two unique perspectives. This exhibition is exactly that. It creates a seamless flow where one piece leads you into the other and then naturally winds its way back to the originating piece.

THE FULL YOU.LOGY MOMENT:

Obviously, when I walked into the gallery on that second visit, I instantly recognized how skillfully she had assembled the parts that made up a magical cohesive whole. But if I am being perfectly honest, my early appreciation was not as magnanimous towards her as I would like you to believe. The truth is I was actually enjoying a reflection of myself found within her curatorial decisions. It is not a charming admission, but most of our conversations start with two self-referencing individuals seeking to find themselves at a point of connection.

But when I stood back and recognized that she had made different presentation decisions than I would have, I began to truly SEE Christy’s presence and talent. While standing at the intersection of our shared terrain and difference, I could see how her different choices created harmony and invitation into an entirely different viewing experience for me. I felt a deep admiration for Christy’s way of seeing the world and I genuinely said, “Take a bow, Christy. Your curation is brilliant.”  And without pause, she delivered what I would describe as a charming hybrid of a curtsy and bow. It was a true YOU.logy moment.

THE LESSON:

Ever since we were children, we have been taught to look for differences. We have a natural cognitive ability to compare objects and immediately organize things according to our perceived similarities and differences. The byproduct of this mental activity is to see the world in terms of opposites. And typically, these distinctions are where we draw our line. But what if we leveraged our ability to spot the differences and instead of creating a dualistic boundary, we become the mobius strip and make a conscious half twist in perspective and allow ourselves to become interested in the difference.

Christy’s pairings illustrate so clearly how contrasts invite us to explore and discover greater appreciation. Instead of using our attunement for difference as a choice to divide, we could be using it as our conscious calling card to invert our habituated self-interest and become prepared to discover something new.

The skills I have been sharing about, conversational prospecting and kaleidoscope listening, could be the exact tools we use to mimic the mobius strip. Through our own subtle shift, we can transform distinction into a seamless transition where no division exists.

This is not a call to abandon your view. Quite the contrary, we choose to see our unique perspectives right alongside each other. When we choose to do this, differences no longer feel oppositional and limiting. Instead, they become enlivening where your presence enhances my self-awareness and my presence enhances yours. Not at the exclusion of the other, but rather because of it.

Please go see the exhibition at the Kickernick Gallery. www.kickernickgallery.com

The opening reception is scheduled for Wednesday February 12^th at 430 N 1^st St Minneapolis, MN.

You must register to attend that evening. You can do that at:  https://www.eventbrite.com/e/kickernick-gallery-art-opening-tickets-1143116715869?aff=ebdssbdestsearch