The unemployment rate is currently at 8.1% That’s the U3 index – not the U6. Which basically means that it doesn’t include all the people who were not working for various reasons like maternity leave, having been in prison, having already been unemployed, working part time, etc. The U6 is more like 15%.

In the nation’s history, we have had 10 months with similar statistics in the past 30 years. 4 of them were the past 4 months in a row.

I heard this news today on NPR’s money podcast and having just returned from Italy I can’t help but think ‘so what?’ Not because I’m some cruel person, not because I have my job and don’t care about others, but having just spent the last 8 days marveling at works created by Donatello, Michelangelo, Giotto, and other ninja turtles, I began to wonder: How does this recession affect the arts?

Think about it. Millions of people out of work. Millions of people who might play piano or guitar or song-write in their spare time. Millions who gave up their dream of painting, sculpting, or singing because it couldn’t earn them money.

Now faced with only the prospect of job-hunting and idle hands, how many people will return to the pen and the page after spending a few hours monotonously tweaking resumes and making phone calls to prospective employers?

Could this recession yield a new renaissance in American art? Will the next Beatles form or the next Michelangelo emerge? Will people start drawing ideas from the collective human subconscious now freed from the bonds of constantly seeking money be suddenly flooded with desire and passion for something more creative than a spreadsheet?

Granted not everyone will have the means to buy paints or instruments but my thinking is we’ll see an influx of musicians, artists, writers, and thinkers dedicating a much more significant portion of time to what was once their hobby. It will be interesting to see what impact the recent economic downfall has on our artforms, and I for one and am excited at the possibility of the results.

This is easily the greatest 20 minutes of I spent of my life in the past year, and one of the BEST orations I’ve ever seen. If you do anything creative, watch it.

The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating – in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.

— Anne Morriss

The disappointment of hearing something someone has already said can be completely crushing. From a stand-up comic doing a crappy version of a previously brilliant joke, to a musician mimicking an artist who was adventurous and creative nothing bothers me more than people putting no creative thought into what they say and do.

Oddly enough, there’s a fine line – quoting movies and TV shows as we all know gets very old, but expanding on a character can be hilarious if done in a new and creative fashion. Musicians using ideas from greats and molding it into something of their own is another example of using a founding idea but in a new setting to bring interesting perspective or expand upon it.

Time and again this occurs to me as I constantly challenge myself to say something slightly differently, twist some words or some notes, and wring out something new from my brain. Though I don’t consider myself tremendously talented at this by any means, challenging yourself to be truly creative is a lot of fun and demands not only patience, but the will to fail (that will being something I’m only now discovering and a whole post unto its own).

Too often I see and hear people around me in everyday life as well as ‘professionals’ taking the easy way out. It’s such a let down in so many ways and I never can understand how they can let themselves get away with it. Do yourself a favor and hold yourself to the highest creative standards – it makes the simplest things challenging and can make things terribly funny, astute, and profound.

This week has been and will continue to be a good week for me at work. The reasons are many but basically it boils down to me taking Friday off, and, most importantly, my office manager’s battle with a rhinovirus.

I work in the office with just him, so when he’s not here I have free reign of the territory. Don’t get me wrong, I like having my boss around. He’s a good guy and we get along, but sometimes it’s nice to have the place to yourself. Its pretty cool for me as I get to keep the thermostat where I want, can get up and walk around, crank my music up, dance, pee in the corner, throw things, catch things, and host elegant tea-parties and act the part of a proper gentleman. But what gets to me is that he’s still sick and came into the office today.

My immune system is pretty awesome. It’s like the pirates ninjas of immune systems. I’m talkin’ throwing stars, nunchucks, katanas coming at any sort of foreign threat. My lymph-nodes are to viruses what talent is to Damon Wayans. But the long and short of it is, don’t come to the freakin’ office if you still sound like you’ve crammed a sock in your nose and your orificium are still leaking more fluid than…a…a…something that leaks a lot of fluid.

If you’re one of those peoples who would rather go to work and be sick then use a sick day, remember: You’re not staying home for you, you’re staying home for the delight of your co-workers.

Living in New York has taught me a lot of things so far – like how to take a zombie’s head clean-off with a shotgun, or how to trap and cook rat when your paycheck runs out 3 days after you get it. But all-in-all it has taught me how to be single.

You see, every time the weekend rolls around I typically look for something to do during the day. At first I used to look for something at night too, but that has gradually gotten better as I actually get invited out now (well, most of the time anyway). But being single in Manhattan can get pretty old as when you want to say, go to a movie, the zoo, a museum, a jazz show, whatever, you have to do it alone. I even find myself walking to places just because it will take up more time that I’m not just sitting in my apartment flipping through the channels for Felicity reruns some kind of sport.

I’m sure most of you know what I’m talking about and it’s not a strictly New York thing for sure. Just moving to a new city it takes time to make those really good friends. You know, that person you can call just to hang up on because you think it’s funny. Or the other person you know you can ask to do anything because their mind is just as numb as yours and they just want to get out of their apartment too.

This weekend I’m headed home. It’s a good friend’s birthday and, well, $1 for a mixed drink just kind of makes life a little sweeter (if not blurry). I’ve also got some buddies of mine from my studio in undergrad who also enjoy drinking – and sure, my parents are there too (just kidding Dad).

Anyway, this post was supposed to be about how nice and weird it is to see green and trees and mountains everywhere when I head home from the city. I guess it got kind of sentimental. But whatever. At least I didn’t resort to another Jesus and Satan dialogue.