“Like lifestyle Minimalism, Minimalist art is sometimes pleasant but generally uninspiring.” Pretty much. On a trip to Venice last summer I had the pleasure of seeing some of the most beautiful classical architecture, staggeringly impressive floor to ceiling paintings, so detailed it would take you half an hour to properly take it in. Then I went to the Guggenheim and saw the exhibition of a renowned minimalist sculptor. At times interesting to look at, but dreadfully uninspiring, especially given the stark contrast with all of the beauty outside. Perhaps it’s my own lack of culture and taste, or an underlying traditionalist bias (wouldn’t be surprising), but the experience sticks out in my memory as a significant strike against minimalism.
“Though I try not to be an armchair psychoanalyst for people who I’ve never shook hands or broken bread with, I can’t help noticing that those who are drawn to Minimalism have, as a rule, been dealt more than their fair share of damage, trauma or neglect in life." My own experience leads me to agree with you on that. However, another thing I’ve noticed is that those who feel displaced, tend to accumulate more objects than others. Toys, books, objects that hold strong sentimental value become much more important, as they almost fill the gap that comes without having a real sense of “home”, or place.
“Until a pandemic hits and you can’t leave the house and you realize that your flat has the same square footage and number of amenities as a solitary confinement cell.”
Yikes. Big truth in there. I remember seeing photos of Scandinavian prison cells and thinking about how they look just like a nice apartment with regular minimalist decor. What that says about minimalists and Scandinavians I’m not sure.
“The only thing to do in such a dwelling is to go online. There is nothing that is not screen-bound and Internet-mediated, and we wonder why after a few months of this routine people began to riot and be beset by anxiety and depression and all the rest of it.” You’ve absolutely nailed it. 2020 for most has been a year of endless scrolling and constant complaining. It’s getting to that stage where people are treating the (still ongoing) quarantines like New Year’s Resolutions - “I was going to learn how to play guitar but instead I watched all 10 seasons of Friends 3 times.” I certainly wasted my fair share of time during the lockdowns, but I got a lot done as well, almost all of which I keep to myself. Getting more practiced at the art of playing dumb as the years go on, and figuring out who is and isn’t capable of a proper open-minded conversation about a topic, without letting personal feelings interfere.
“And though materialism and greed are not the solutions to any of our problems, spending more time offline almost certainly is. Being more creative definitely is. And these activities require a certain amount of stuff. I don’t mean necessarily materials, the absence of which is a barrier to entry. I mean that sound mental health requires offline time and this requires having at least some books or physical music or instruments or games or basically anything that is fun and occupying and that doesn’t require a charger and a WiFi code.” Bought a surfboard and went surfing Friday, then came home, got destroyed in chess by my younger brother (x3), wrote a couple thousand words and finished the day reading 100 years of solitude by GGM - can confirm that I fell asleep and woke up about as happy as I’ve ever been, the afterglow of which is still fresh as I’m typing this comment.
A predisposition to minimalism in the physical plane, usually means overconsumption in terms of information. For them, that's a feature, not a bug.
Coincidently, materialists and minimalists seem to be part of the same circle but on opposite sides.
On the other hand, I'd argue that the post-modern ideation of deconstructing the narrative necessitates an aesthetic facade in every -ism out there. It was never about functionality. It's about a clean, white look and negative space.
Minimalism can be looked as a coping mechanism for those who can't spend too much energy to handle the implied responsibility of a rich space and instead resort in preservation mode. You can hold on to a couple of pots but having one too many means that you don't deserve the luxury!
Anyway. Doyle's idea of keeping your mental space like a well-kept storage unit is my kind of "minimalism".
Ha! We were mentioning minimalism again just yesterday, as we prepare to move cities, to a much higher rent bracket, to homeschooling, etc.
I've found minimalism fairly easy to practice at times. I only really collect books. I don't really amass much of a wardrobe.
But I do agree that external stuff points to internal needs. I think playing an instrument is a wonderful thing that can satisfy so much of our desire for something deeper.
I've been rather busy and haven't read you in a while. Glad I made the time this morning.
I've always been suspicious of those preaching minimalism. Sure, it has some virtues (that you spoke of better than I would), but it always seemed... off to me. If we put aside the vast majority of people that blabbers about it because it's trendy but doesn't really apply it, you are left with two kinds of people : the already rich, and the soon-to-be-poor.
The already rich (self-made or mommy's boys/ daddy's girls) see it as a way to exonarate themselves from the burden of wealth; like those Silicon Valley lords that made their money in a ruthless and often dubious way but now won't shut up about their newfound spirituality, "gratitude", "kindness" and virtue-signaling philantropy. These people aren't really minimalistic; they're just bored, rich, feeling guilty and want to prove something to themselves and their peers.
The soon-to-be-poor are the city dwellers (as you said) that use it in order to cope with their always-shrinking purchasing power. It's not necessarily minimalism to never buy anything, even when you'd really want to; it's not necessarily minimalism to sell your car and take the bus; it's not necessarily minimalism to share a house with 3 strangers at 30+ years old. And it's NOT minimalism to have a wardrobe made of 5 items and patch them up for years until they're unwearable.
Like you said, discarding objects is usually more a symptom than a cause; it's less that you want to make tabula rasa of your possessions, rathen than the desire of a tabula rasa in your head. And after all, is it really wrong ? Addiction specialists tell us that there is virtually 0 chance for someone to truly recover if they keep living in the same envirronment and among the same people. So I can see the logic behind all this. But as we've seen in your "travel" newsletter, you can't get away from yourself just by booking a one-way ticket to Bali, just like you won't resolve your issues by getting rid of your possessions. So maybe the real challenge is less to discard all your possessions and LARP as a modern monk, than learn to distinguish between inspiring/value-added objects and cluttering ones; maybe you should buy this new couch you're thinking of. But maybe you shouldn't buy the overpriced, trendy one your GF saw on some IG's influencer page but an old and timeless Chesterfield, full of history and meaning. Maybe you don't need the latest macBook to write your novel, but a nice fountain pen and a Moleskine notebook (in addition to your old but still efficient laptop) could give you the creative boost you were waiting for. If you develop your taste and learn to appreciate the intrinsic beauty some objects can carry, you'll eventually build - literaly - your own world, where each thing has its place and meaning; and the fact that you'll own 10 objects or a hundred won't make a difference. But in a strange way, you'll have achieved minimalism in your head.
Tom, thank you for this. One of your best yet. I'll be sharing it on Twitter—a platform, I should note, that you have stealthily left because you have skin in the game, which lends these words all the more weight. Well done.
It seems to me that Minimalism and Digitalism and Essentialism—all "isms" for that matter, along with Marie Kondo's keeping only things that "spark joy"—are ways of prescribing external purges for what is truly interior work, a spirit of detachment, which is not so easily earned by reading self-improvement books or blogs.
One thing I always appreciate your insights is the emphasis that you place on freedom. I don't find it to be a kind of Sartrian conception of freedom but one imbued with a notion of responsibility, optimism, even hope.
There are charlatans (I won't name names) who recount the history of Homo Sapiens, for example, in a deterministic way, who refuse to acknowledge what they can verify in their own experience, that which is self-evident: I have the power to organize and arrange an Ordo Amoris in my life, an order of love, for which Twitter and my beloved vinyl LP of The Clash and even that glass of Blanton's bourbon that I tasted last night are, in the end, revealed for what they are—mere things, which only serve a noble purpose if they help me grow closer to my final goal in life, which is to love greatly.
Have a restful and re-energizing December, mate. We have but 9 left until the Soaring Twenties draws to a close, and we will be looking back at how we got started as the key to it all.
In the meantime, we'll miss you in Zoomlandia. Rock on.
Interestingly, I never noticed the analog record player in the iconic Jobs picture.
I have a different perspective on minimalism. For me it's not what I have but how I choose to spend my time that controls my minimalistic filter.
Just about every day I begin it early, alone, on my bike in the dark. Sure, I am riding a $6K Titanium gravel bike but's it's not the "thing" that defines "my" minimalism it's my isolation from other stimuli.
I only have the thoughts in my head, the rhythmic churning of my legs, breathing in and out, and moving in space for 3 hours each day.
I imagine that the freedom I experience is what a minimalist might intend to feel by "getting rid of things" When I am alone, pedaling (and sometimes suffering) problems and concerns fade. They are still there but in the big scheme of things their place is re-aligned. I feel free.
I re-enter my day relaxed, recharged, and re-directed. I still have all the things around me and in my life, but the goal is never to try to accumulate more for the sake of "getting". I prefer the experiences that things offer.
My morning minimalistic ritual helps me keep everything in perspective.
“Like lifestyle Minimalism, Minimalist art is sometimes pleasant but generally uninspiring.” Pretty much. On a trip to Venice last summer I had the pleasure of seeing some of the most beautiful classical architecture, staggeringly impressive floor to ceiling paintings, so detailed it would take you half an hour to properly take it in. Then I went to the Guggenheim and saw the exhibition of a renowned minimalist sculptor. At times interesting to look at, but dreadfully uninspiring, especially given the stark contrast with all of the beauty outside. Perhaps it’s my own lack of culture and taste, or an underlying traditionalist bias (wouldn’t be surprising), but the experience sticks out in my memory as a significant strike against minimalism.
“Though I try not to be an armchair psychoanalyst for people who I’ve never shook hands or broken bread with, I can’t help noticing that those who are drawn to Minimalism have, as a rule, been dealt more than their fair share of damage, trauma or neglect in life." My own experience leads me to agree with you on that. However, another thing I’ve noticed is that those who feel displaced, tend to accumulate more objects than others. Toys, books, objects that hold strong sentimental value become much more important, as they almost fill the gap that comes without having a real sense of “home”, or place.
“Until a pandemic hits and you can’t leave the house and you realize that your flat has the same square footage and number of amenities as a solitary confinement cell.”
Yikes. Big truth in there. I remember seeing photos of Scandinavian prison cells and thinking about how they look just like a nice apartment with regular minimalist decor. What that says about minimalists and Scandinavians I’m not sure.
“The only thing to do in such a dwelling is to go online. There is nothing that is not screen-bound and Internet-mediated, and we wonder why after a few months of this routine people began to riot and be beset by anxiety and depression and all the rest of it.” You’ve absolutely nailed it. 2020 for most has been a year of endless scrolling and constant complaining. It’s getting to that stage where people are treating the (still ongoing) quarantines like New Year’s Resolutions - “I was going to learn how to play guitar but instead I watched all 10 seasons of Friends 3 times.” I certainly wasted my fair share of time during the lockdowns, but I got a lot done as well, almost all of which I keep to myself. Getting more practiced at the art of playing dumb as the years go on, and figuring out who is and isn’t capable of a proper open-minded conversation about a topic, without letting personal feelings interfere.
“And though materialism and greed are not the solutions to any of our problems, spending more time offline almost certainly is. Being more creative definitely is. And these activities require a certain amount of stuff. I don’t mean necessarily materials, the absence of which is a barrier to entry. I mean that sound mental health requires offline time and this requires having at least some books or physical music or instruments or games or basically anything that is fun and occupying and that doesn’t require a charger and a WiFi code.” Bought a surfboard and went surfing Friday, then came home, got destroyed in chess by my younger brother (x3), wrote a couple thousand words and finished the day reading 100 years of solitude by GGM - can confirm that I fell asleep and woke up about as happy as I’ve ever been, the afterglow of which is still fresh as I’m typing this comment.
A predisposition to minimalism in the physical plane, usually means overconsumption in terms of information. For them, that's a feature, not a bug.
Coincidently, materialists and minimalists seem to be part of the same circle but on opposite sides.
On the other hand, I'd argue that the post-modern ideation of deconstructing the narrative necessitates an aesthetic facade in every -ism out there. It was never about functionality. It's about a clean, white look and negative space.
Minimalism can be looked as a coping mechanism for those who can't spend too much energy to handle the implied responsibility of a rich space and instead resort in preservation mode. You can hold on to a couple of pots but having one too many means that you don't deserve the luxury!
Anyway. Doyle's idea of keeping your mental space like a well-kept storage unit is my kind of "minimalism".
Ha! We were mentioning minimalism again just yesterday, as we prepare to move cities, to a much higher rent bracket, to homeschooling, etc.
I've found minimalism fairly easy to practice at times. I only really collect books. I don't really amass much of a wardrobe.
But I do agree that external stuff points to internal needs. I think playing an instrument is a wonderful thing that can satisfy so much of our desire for something deeper.
I've been rather busy and haven't read you in a while. Glad I made the time this morning.
I've always been suspicious of those preaching minimalism. Sure, it has some virtues (that you spoke of better than I would), but it always seemed... off to me. If we put aside the vast majority of people that blabbers about it because it's trendy but doesn't really apply it, you are left with two kinds of people : the already rich, and the soon-to-be-poor.
The already rich (self-made or mommy's boys/ daddy's girls) see it as a way to exonarate themselves from the burden of wealth; like those Silicon Valley lords that made their money in a ruthless and often dubious way but now won't shut up about their newfound spirituality, "gratitude", "kindness" and virtue-signaling philantropy. These people aren't really minimalistic; they're just bored, rich, feeling guilty and want to prove something to themselves and their peers.
The soon-to-be-poor are the city dwellers (as you said) that use it in order to cope with their always-shrinking purchasing power. It's not necessarily minimalism to never buy anything, even when you'd really want to; it's not necessarily minimalism to sell your car and take the bus; it's not necessarily minimalism to share a house with 3 strangers at 30+ years old. And it's NOT minimalism to have a wardrobe made of 5 items and patch them up for years until they're unwearable.
Like you said, discarding objects is usually more a symptom than a cause; it's less that you want to make tabula rasa of your possessions, rathen than the desire of a tabula rasa in your head. And after all, is it really wrong ? Addiction specialists tell us that there is virtually 0 chance for someone to truly recover if they keep living in the same envirronment and among the same people. So I can see the logic behind all this. But as we've seen in your "travel" newsletter, you can't get away from yourself just by booking a one-way ticket to Bali, just like you won't resolve your issues by getting rid of your possessions. So maybe the real challenge is less to discard all your possessions and LARP as a modern monk, than learn to distinguish between inspiring/value-added objects and cluttering ones; maybe you should buy this new couch you're thinking of. But maybe you shouldn't buy the overpriced, trendy one your GF saw on some IG's influencer page but an old and timeless Chesterfield, full of history and meaning. Maybe you don't need the latest macBook to write your novel, but a nice fountain pen and a Moleskine notebook (in addition to your old but still efficient laptop) could give you the creative boost you were waiting for. If you develop your taste and learn to appreciate the intrinsic beauty some objects can carry, you'll eventually build - literaly - your own world, where each thing has its place and meaning; and the fact that you'll own 10 objects or a hundred won't make a difference. But in a strange way, you'll have achieved minimalism in your head.
Tom, thank you for this. One of your best yet. I'll be sharing it on Twitter—a platform, I should note, that you have stealthily left because you have skin in the game, which lends these words all the more weight. Well done.
It seems to me that Minimalism and Digitalism and Essentialism—all "isms" for that matter, along with Marie Kondo's keeping only things that "spark joy"—are ways of prescribing external purges for what is truly interior work, a spirit of detachment, which is not so easily earned by reading self-improvement books or blogs.
One thing I always appreciate your insights is the emphasis that you place on freedom. I don't find it to be a kind of Sartrian conception of freedom but one imbued with a notion of responsibility, optimism, even hope.
There are charlatans (I won't name names) who recount the history of Homo Sapiens, for example, in a deterministic way, who refuse to acknowledge what they can verify in their own experience, that which is self-evident: I have the power to organize and arrange an Ordo Amoris in my life, an order of love, for which Twitter and my beloved vinyl LP of The Clash and even that glass of Blanton's bourbon that I tasted last night are, in the end, revealed for what they are—mere things, which only serve a noble purpose if they help me grow closer to my final goal in life, which is to love greatly.
Have a restful and re-energizing December, mate. We have but 9 left until the Soaring Twenties draws to a close, and we will be looking back at how we got started as the key to it all.
In the meantime, we'll miss you in Zoomlandia. Rock on.
Interestingly, I never noticed the analog record player in the iconic Jobs picture.
I have a different perspective on minimalism. For me it's not what I have but how I choose to spend my time that controls my minimalistic filter.
Just about every day I begin it early, alone, on my bike in the dark. Sure, I am riding a $6K Titanium gravel bike but's it's not the "thing" that defines "my" minimalism it's my isolation from other stimuli.
I only have the thoughts in my head, the rhythmic churning of my legs, breathing in and out, and moving in space for 3 hours each day.
I imagine that the freedom I experience is what a minimalist might intend to feel by "getting rid of things" When I am alone, pedaling (and sometimes suffering) problems and concerns fade. They are still there but in the big scheme of things their place is re-aligned. I feel free.
I re-enter my day relaxed, recharged, and re-directed. I still have all the things around me and in my life, but the goal is never to try to accumulate more for the sake of "getting". I prefer the experiences that things offer.
My morning minimalistic ritual helps me keep everything in perspective.