Cafes: The Gathering Place for Talk and Ideas

     That is one of the first things the Nazis went after was the cafes where people met and gathered to talk about things.  They wanted to stop communication at the source.
     That is why cafes are important, where ideas can flow freely.

     I come here to absorb as much as I do to create. 
     I feel the energy of other people, and it informs me.
     It takes me out of myself.
     It allows me for a brief time to experience the thoughts of other people instead of being in my own head all the time, which can be quite stifling.
     To be alone too much is to go insane.
     Plants need water, air, sunlight, and nutrients to live.
     So do human beings.

     If you think of a human being as a lake, it needs an input and an output stream in order to keep the lake fresh.  Otherwise, it can become a swamp, which comes to think of it, has a lot of life, there, too.
     Okay, there goes that argument.

     Well, I guess you have to decide on what kind of body of water you are.  A stagnant lake, or one that is brimming with life and activity. 
     It is up to you.

     Hey, burn any books lately?  To not read them is the same.
    
     Trust me, books won't hurt you.

     There is a fear of books these days, because they have a tendency to make the reader think in new ways, and people like to be where there are.

     If a cafe doesn't make you think in new ways each time you go there, it isn't doing its job.

     I used to read about all of my favorite artists meeting in cafes, and discussing the ideas of the day.  I really got into it.  I still believe in it.

     I saw a bus advertising a Pisarro exhibition.  That stuff still matters to people.
     Pissaro is a good artist, I like his work.
     I read a story of his life, but I lost the book on the bus, much to the disappointment of my mother, for it was her book, and she never got to finish reading it.  Ooops.  Now my mother is dead, and I don't think she ever got to read that story, unless she checked it out from the library.  I don't think she ever bought another copy of it, sad to say.  I blew that one.
    
     I later lost one of my grandmother's books on the bus.  It was a hundred year old little story book, not worth much, but I felt bad about it for years.  I was so stupid and confused with everything going on.

     At least I wasn't the kid who knocked over a 5000 year old ceramic, and said to his master, "You know how nothing lasts forever?"
     "Yes."
     "Well, I just accidentally broke your ceramic bowl."

     Great would be his patience to not be mad at the child.  I don't know how The Master of Philosophy reacted, it wasn't in the story, but there is a great lesson there.

* * *
     So, I grew up excited to go hang out at cafes and talk about important ideas and have heated discussions about things that really mattered.
     I'm lucky to get in a good talk about Magic The Gathering, much less art.
     I guess I will take what I can get.