How to Look at Art: A Short Visual Guide by Cartoonist Lynda Barry

looking at art 1
Despite the small, nar­ra­tive doo­dle post­ed to her Tum­blr a cou­ple of weeks back, inspi­ra­tional teacher and car­toon­ist Lyn­da Bar­ry clear­ly has no short­age of strate­gies for view­ing art in a mean­ing­ful way.

She takes a Socrat­ic approach with stu­dents and read­ers eager to forge a deep­er per­son­al con­nec­tion to images.

how to look at art 2

She traces this ten­den­cy back forty years, to when she stud­ied with Mar­i­lyn Fras­ca at Ever­green State Col­lege. Could Fras­ca have antic­i­pat­ed what she wrought when she asked the young Bar­ry, “What is an image?”

For Bar­ry, who claims to have spent over forty years try­ing to answer the above ques­tion, there will almost always be an emo­tion­al com­po­nent. In a 2010 inter­view with The Paris Review, she addressed the ways in which art, visu­al and oth­er­wise, can fill cer­tain cru­cial holes:

In the course of human life we have a mil­lion phan­tom-limb pains—losing a par­ent when you’re lit­tle, being in a war, even some­thing as dumb as hav­ing a mean teacher—and see­ing it some­how reflect­ed, whether it’s in our own work or lis­ten­ing to a song, is a way to deal with it.

The Greeks knew about it. They called it cathar­sis, right? And with­out it we’re fucked. I think this is the thing that keeps our men­tal health or emo­tion­al health in bal­ance, and we’re born with an impulse toward it.

No won­der the snag­gle-toothed dog woman on Barry’s Tum­blr looks so anx­ious. She craves that elu­sive some­thing that nev­er much trou­bled Helen Hockinson’s muse­um-going com­ic matrons.

(Had rev­e­la­tion been on the menu, those ladies would have duti­ful­ly paged through the most high­ly rec­om­mend­ed guide­book of the day, con­fi­dent they’d find it with­in those pages.)

These days, the inter­net abounds with point­ers on how to get the most from art.

how to look at art 3

Houston’s Muse­um of Fine Arts lob­bies for a four-point method, well suit­ed to class­room dis­cus­sion.

The Wash­ing­ton Post’s Pulitzer Prize-win­ning art and archi­tec­ture crit­ic Philip Ken­ni­cott pre­scribes time and silence.

Anoth­er crit­ic, New York magazine’s fire­brand, Jer­ry Saltz, rec­om­mends an aggres­sive­ly tac­tile approach for those who would look at art like an artist. Get up close. Cop a feel. Try to see how any giv­en piece is made. (He him­self is giv­en to con­tem­plat­ing art with his hips thrust for­ward and head tilt­ed back as far as it will go, in dupli­ca­tion of Jasper Johns’ stance.)

Look­ing for some­thing more graph­ic? Abstract Expres­sion­ist Ad Rein­hardt helped the post-War pub­lic get a han­dle on mod­ern art in his icon­ic How to Look series.

For­mer muse­um edu­ca­tor, Cindy Ingram, the Art Cura­tor for Kids, echoes the spir­it of Barry’s sen­ti­ment when she states that a child’s inter­pre­ta­tion of a work’s mean­ing is no less valid than Wikipedia’s, the museum’s, or even the artist’s. Adults, don’t squelch a child viewer’s joy of art by telling him or her what to think!

Of course, some of us don’t mind a hint or two to help us feel we’re on the right track. Those in that camp might enjoy the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art’s 82nd and 5th series, in which expert cura­tors wax rhap­sod­ic about their love of par­tic­u­lar works in the col­lec­tion.

You under­stand that this is just the tip of the prover­bial ‘berg…

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Read­ers, if you have any tips for achiev­ing rev­e­la­tion through art, please share them by leav­ing a com­ment below.

And don’t for­get to lift your short­er com­pan­ion up so he can see bet­ter.

Bar­ry’s short series of images orig­i­nal­ly appeared on her Tum­blr.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Lyn­da Barry’s Illus­trat­ed Syl­labus & Home­work Assign­ments from Her New UW-Madi­son Course, “Mak­ing Comics”

Car­toon­ist Lyn­da Bar­ry Shows You How to Draw Bat­man in Her UW-Madi­son Course, “Mak­ing Comics”

Join Car­toon­ist Lyn­da Bar­ry for a Uni­ver­si­ty-Lev­el Course on Doo­dling and Neu­ro­science

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

“Muhammad Ali, This Is Your Life!”: Celebrate Ali’s Life & Times with This Touching 1978 TV Tribute

Tonight, we pass along the sad news that Muham­mad Ali, one of the great ath­letes and per­son­al­i­ties of our time, has passed away at the age of 74. Hav­ing bat­tled Parkin­son’s Dis­ease for decades, his pass­ing does­n’t come as a com­plete sur­prise. But, for any­one who remem­bers Ali in his prime, this news will cer­tain­ly come as a blow. There is per­haps not a bet­ter way to remem­ber Ali’s life and times than to watch the 1978 episode of This Is Your Life, the long-run­ning TV show that fol­lowed this for­mat:

Each week, an unsus­pect­ing celebri­ty would be lured by some ruse to a loca­tion near the stu­dio. The celebri­ty would then be sur­prised with the news that they are to be the fea­tured guest. Next, the celebri­ty was escort­ed into the stu­dio, and one by one, peo­ple who were sig­nif­i­cant in the guest’s life would be brought out to offer anec­dotes. At the end of the show, fam­i­ly mem­bers and friends would sur­round the guest, who would then be pre­sent­ed with gifts.

This show (record­ed in Eng­land in this case) is an endear­ing trib­ute to the champ, all the more mov­ing to watch now because Ali is gone. The high­light comes around the 38 minute mark, when Smokin Joe Fra­zier, Ali’s great rival, pays a sur­pris­ing vis­it.

Muham­mad you will be missed.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Muham­mad Ali Sings in Broadway’s First Black Pow­er Musi­cal (1970)

Muham­mad Ali Plans to Fight in Mars in Lost 1966 Inter­view

Muham­mad Ali Gives a Dra­mat­ic Read­ing of His Poem on the Atti­ca Prison Upris­ing

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The Battle to Finish a PhD: World War I Soldier Completes His Dissertation in the Trenches (1916)

phd in trenches

Con­nie Ruzich, a WWI poet­ry blog­ger, recent­ly high­light­ed on Twit­ter a his­toric news­pa­per clip­ping that will put the tra­vails of acad­eme into per­spec­tive. Get­ting a Ph.D. is always hard. But hard is rel­a­tive.

Case in point…

100 years ago, Pierre Mau­rice Mas­son, a young schol­ar, found him­self fight­ing in north-east­ern France. Draft­ed in 1914, Mas­son rose through the mil­i­tary ranks, mov­ing from sergeant, to sub-lieu­tenant, to lieu­tenant. Mean­while, in the dis­com­fort of the trench­es, he con­tin­ued work­ing on his doc­tor­al thesis–a long dis­ser­ta­tion on the reli­gious train­ing of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. By the spring of 1916, he had com­plet­ed the text, cor­rect­ed the proofs, and draft­ed an intro­duc­tion (of course, that comes last). Final­ly, he announced to friends, “The mon­ster is ready!” And he sought a leave of absence to return to the Sor­bonne to receive his doc­tor­ate.

Alas, that did­n’t hap­pen. The news­pa­per clip above tells the rest of the poignant sto­ry.

You can read Mas­son’s posthu­mous­ly pub­lished the­sis, La for­ma­tion religieuse de Rousseaufree online.

via Ted Gioia/Con­nie Ruzich

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Illus­trat­ed Guide to a Ph.D.

Read John Nash’s Super Short PhD The­sis with 26 Pages & 2 Cita­tions: The Beau­ty of Invent­ing a Field

Ser­i­al Entre­pre­neur Damon Horowitz Says “Quit Your Tech Job and Get a Ph.D. in the Human­i­ties”

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How to Spot Bullshit: A Primer by Princeton Philosopher Harry Frankfurt

We live in an age of truthi­ness. Come­di­an Stephen Col­bert coined the word to describe the Bush administration’s ten­den­cy to fudge the facts in its favor.

Ten years after the Amer­i­can Dialect Soci­ety named it Word of the Year, for­mer pres­i­dent Bush’s cal­en­dar is packed with such leisure activ­i­ties as golf and paint­ing por­traits of world lead­ers, but “truthi­ness” remains on active duty.

It’s par­tic­u­lar­ly ger­mane in this elec­tion year, though politi­cians are far from its only prac­ti­tion­ers.

Take glob­al warm­ing. NASA makes a pret­ty rock sol­id case for both its exis­tence and our role in it:

97 per­cent or more of active­ly pub­lish­ing cli­mate sci­en­tists agree: Cli­mate-warm­ing trends over the past cen­tu­ry are extreme­ly like­ly due to human activ­i­ties. In addi­tion, most of the lead­ing sci­en­tif­ic orga­ni­za­tions world­wide have issued pub­lic state­ments endors­ing this posi­tion.

In view of such num­bers, its under­stand­able that a sub­ur­ban Joe with a freez­er full of fac­to­ry-farmed beef and mul­ti­ple SUVs in his garage would cling to the posi­tion that glob­al warm­ing is a lie. It’s his last resort, real­ly.

But such self-ratio­nal­iza­tions are not truth. They are truthi­ness.

Or to use the old-fash­ioned word favored by philoso­pher Har­ry Frank­furt, above: bull­shit!

Frank­furt–a philoso­pher at Prince­ton and the author of On Bull­shitallows that bull­shit artists are often charm­ing, or at their very least, col­or­ful. They have to be. Achiev­ing their ends involves engag­ing oth­ers long enough to per­suade them that they know what they’re talk­ing about, when in fact, that’s the oppo­site of the truth.

Speak­ing of oppo­sites, Frank­furt main­tains that bull­shit is a dif­fer­ent beast from an out-and-out lie. The liar makes a spe­cif­ic attempt to con­ceal the truth by swap­ping it out for a lie.

The bull­shit artist’s approach is far more vague. It’s about cre­at­ing a gen­er­al impres­sion.

There are times when I admit to wel­com­ing this sort of manure. As a mak­er of low bud­get the­ater, your hon­est opin­ion of any show I have Lit­tle Red Hen’ed into exis­tence is the last thing I want to hear upon emerg­ing from the cramped dress­ing room, unless you tru­ly loved it.

I’d also encour­age you to choose your words care­ful­ly when dash­ing a child’s dreams.

But when it comes to mat­ters of pub­lic pol­i­cy, and the pub­lic good, yes, trans­paren­cy is best.

It’s inter­est­ing to me that film­mak­ers James Nee and Chris­t­ian Brit­ten trans­formed a por­tion of their learned subject’s thoughts into voiceover nar­ra­tion for a light­ning fast stock footage mon­tage. It’s divert­ing and fun­ny, fea­tur­ing such omi­nous char­ac­ters as Nos­fer­atu, Bill Clin­ton, Char­lie Chaplin’s Great Dic­ta­tor, and Don­ald Trump, but isn’t it also the sort of mis­di­rec­tion sleight of hand at which true bull­shit­ters excel?

Frank­furt expands upon his thoughts on bull­shit in his apt­ly titled best­selling book, On Bull­shit and its fol­lowup On Truth.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Noam Chom­sky Schools 9/11 Truther; Explains the Sci­ence of Mak­ing Cred­i­ble Claims

Young T.S. Eliot Writes “The Tri­umph of Bullsh*t” and Gives the Eng­lish Lan­guage a New Exple­tive (1910)

Stephen Col­bert Explains How The Col­bert Report Is Made in a New Pod­cast

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Mad Magazine’s Al Jaffee & Other Cartoonists Create Animations to End Distracted Driving


Mod­el Ts were the aver­age American’s car of choice in 1921, when car­toon­ist Al Jaf­fee was born.

The father of MAD Mag­a­zine’s fold-ins was but sev­en when the T’s suc­ces­sor, the Mod­el A, was intro­duced.

It would be a long time before such inno­va­tions as seat belts, baby seats, and airbags were intro­duced. These safe­ty mea­sures do a fine job of min­i­miz­ing human dam­age in motor vehi­cle acci­dents, but they can’t pre­vent the col­li­sions them­selves.

To rem­e­dy this, Ford, the com­pa­ny respon­si­ble for the Mod­el T and hun­dreds of motor vehi­cles since, recent­ly enlist­ed Jaf­fee and his fel­low car­toon­ists, MK Brown and Bill Plymp­ton, to edu­cate the pub­lic on the dan­gers of dis­tract­ed dri­ving. Turns out this pre­ventable scourge rivals intox­i­ca­tion and haz­ardous road con­di­tions as a lead­ing cause of acci­dents.

Jaffee’s take, ani­mat­ed by J.J. Sedel­maier, above, will nev­er be mis­tak­en for film­mak­er Wern­er Her­zog’s har­row­ing anti-tex­ting doc­u­men­tary PSA, From One Sec­ond to the Next, or even Jaffee’s own anti-drunk dri­ving fold-in from MAD’s March 1975 issue.

Instead, he offers a gen­tle, child-friend­ly metaphor in which an uncaged bird becomes a hav­oc-wreak­ing dis­trac­tion. (For­tu­nate­ly, everyone’s wear­ing his seat­belt, and the lit­tle boy is rid­ing in back, in com­pli­ance with CDC rec­om­men­da­tions.)


Nation­al Lam­poon alum, Brown, tip­toes clos­er to the true caus­es of dis­trac­tion, with the alien-themed seg­ment, above, also ani­mat­ed by Sedel­maier. If it seems like­li­er that the alien’s earth­ling wife might do her hen­peck­ing via text rather than actu­al call these days—well, some­times dra­mat­ic lib­er­ties are war­rant­ed to get the mes­sage across.


Unsur­pris­ing­ly, Plympton’s self-ani­mat­ed con­tri­bu­tion is the most graph­ic, a direct descen­dent of his fab­u­lous­ly grotesque car­toon primers 25 Ways To Quit Smok­ing and How To Kiss. Moral? Assum­ing you want to keep your teeth in your head, the veg­etable mat­ter wedged in between can wait ’til you reach your des­ti­na­tion.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Wern­er Herzog’s Eye-Open­ing New Film Reveals the Dan­gers of Tex­ting While Dri­ving

Al Jaf­fee, the Longest Work­ing Car­toon­ist in His­to­ry, Shows How He Invent­ed the Icon­ic “Folds-Ins” for Mad Mag­a­zine

Read­ing While Dri­ving, Seri­ous­ly?

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky. Her plan for avoid­ing acci­dents is to refrain from dri­ving when­ev­er pos­si­ble. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Watch Paul McCartney Perform Live, with 10-Year-Old Leila on Bass, in Buenos Aires Yesterday

A few weeks ago, I took my kids to see Paul McCart­ney launch his One on One Tour in Fres­no, Cal­i­for­nia. The high­light? See­ing him play “Hard Day’s Night” and “Love Me Do” live for the first time since the 1960s? Not real­ly. Watch­ing Sir Paul wave at my kids when they held up a “Chee­rio Paul” sign? Yeah, that was worth the price of the tick­ets alone.

But none of that com­pares to the scene that played out ear­li­er this week in Buenos Aires. Above, watch lit­tle Leila sweet­ly ask Paul to play a lit­tle bass, get her wish grant­ed, and rock to some “Get Back.” It’s pret­ty adorable.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Alejandro Jodorowsky’s 82 Commandments For Living

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Cre­ative Com­mons pho­to by Lionel Allorge

If you’re a fan of sci­ence fic­tion or the films of David Lynch, you’ve sure­ly seen the 1984 film adap­ta­tion of Frank Herbert’s cult clas­sic sci-fi nov­el, Dune (though Lynch him­self may pre­fer that you didn’t). And indeed, it’s very like­ly that, by now, you’ve heard the incred­i­ble sto­ry of what Dune might have been, had it been direct­ed ten years ear­li­er by psy­che­del­ic Chilean film­mak­er, writer, com­pos­er, and psy­chother­a­pist Ale­jan­dro Jodor­owsky. Per­haps you even caught Jonathan Crow’s post on this site fea­tur­ing Jodorowsky’s pro­posed storyboards—drawn by French artist Moebius—for what would most cer­tain­ly would have been “a mind-bog­gling­ly grand epic” of a movie. Alas, Jodorowsky’s Dune nev­er came about, though it did lat­er lead to the doc­u­men­tary Jodorowsky’s Dune, which Matt Zoller Seitz pro­nounced “a call to arms for dream­ers every­where.”

That descrip­tion applies not only to the film about a film that could have been, but also to the entire­ty of Jodorowsky’s work, includ­ing his—thoroughly bizarre and captivating—early fea­tures, El Topo and The Holy Moun­tain, and the cre­ation of a com­ic book uni­verse like no oth­er. Called “The Jodoverse,” the world of his com­ic books is, as writer War­ren Ellis says, “aston­ish­ing­ly beau­ti­ful and total­ly mad”—again, a suc­cinct descrip­tion of Jodorowsky’s every artis­tic endeav­or. Wit­ness below, for exam­ple, the stun­ning trail­er for his most recent fea­ture film, 2014’s The Dance of Real­i­ty. You may find the visu­al excess­es so over­whelm­ing that you only half-hear the nar­ra­tion.

Lis­ten (or read) care­ful­ly, how­ev­er. Jodor­owsky has as much to tell us with his cryp­ti­cal­ly poet­ic pro­nounce­ments as he does with his vision­ary imagery. Do you find his epi­grams plat­i­tudi­nous, sen­ten­tious, Pollyan­naish, or naïve? Jodor­owsky doesn’t mind. He calls, remem­ber, to the dream­ers, not the hard-bit­ten, cyn­i­cal real­ists. And if you’re one of the dream­ers who hears that call, you’ll find much to love in the list below of Jodorowsky’s 82 Com­mand­ments for liv­ing. But so too, I think, will the real­ists. These come from Jodorowsky’s mem­oir The Spir­i­tu­al Jour­ney of Ale­jan­dro Jodor­owsky, and the list comes via Dan­ger­ous Minds, who adapt­ed it from “the bet­ter part of three pages” of text.

As Jodor­owsky frames these max­ims in his book, they orig­i­nat­ed with influ­en­tial Russ­ian mys­tic George Gur­d­ji­eff, and were told to him by Gurdjieff’s daugh­ter, Rey­na d’Assia. Per­haps that’s so. But you’ll note, if you know Jodorowsky’s writing—or sim­ply took a cou­ple min­utes time to watch the trail­er above—that they sound enough like the author’s own words to have been brought forth from his per­son­al store­house of accu­mu­lat­ed wis­dom. In any case, Jodor­owsky has always been quick to acknowl­edge his spir­i­tu­al teach­ers, and whether these are his sec­ond-hand accounts of Gur­d­ji­eff or his own inven­tions has no bear­ing on the sub­stance there­in.

Often sound­ing very much like Bib­li­cal proverbs or Bud­dhist pre­cepts, the com­mand­ments are intend­ed, d’Assia says in Jodorowsky’s account, to help us “change [our] habits, con­quer lazi­ness, and become… moral­ly sound human being[s].” As she remarks in the book, before she deliv­ers the below in a lengthy mono­logue, “to be strong in the great things, we must also be strong in the small ones.” There­fore…

  1. Ground your atten­tion on your­self. Be con­scious at every moment of what you are think­ing, sens­ing, feel­ing, desir­ing, and doing.
  2. Always fin­ish what you have begun.
  3. What­ev­er you are doing, do it as well as pos­si­ble.
  4. Do not become attached to any­thing that can destroy you in the course of time.
  5. Devel­op your gen­eros­i­ty ‒ but secret­ly.
  6. Treat every­one as if he or she was a close rel­a­tive.
  7. Orga­nize what you have dis­or­ga­nized.
  8. Learn to receive and give thanks for every gift.
  9. Stop defin­ing your­self.
  10. Do not lie or steal, for you lie to your­self and steal from your­self.
  11. Help your neigh­bor, but do not make him depen­dent.
  12. Do not encour­age oth­ers to imi­tate you.
  13. Make work plans and accom­plish them.
  14. Do not take up too much space.
  15. Make no use­less move­ments or sounds.
  16. If you lack faith, pre­tend to have it.
  17. Do not allow your­self to be impressed by strong per­son­al­i­ties.
  18. Do not regard any­one or any­thing as your pos­ses­sion.
  19. Share fair­ly.
  20. Do not seduce.
  21. Sleep and eat only as much as nec­es­sary.
  22. Do not speak of your per­son­al prob­lems.
  23. Do not express judg­ment or crit­i­cism when you are igno­rant of most of the fac­tors involved.
  24. Do not estab­lish use­less friend­ships.
  25. Do not fol­low fash­ions.
  26. Do not sell your­self.
  27. Respect con­tracts you have signed.
  28. Be on time.
  29. Nev­er envy the luck or suc­cess of any­one.
  30. Say no more than nec­es­sary.
  31. Do not think of the prof­its your work will engen­der.
  32. Nev­er threat­en any­one.
  33. Keep your promis­es.
  34. In any dis­cus­sion, put your­self in the oth­er person’s place.
  35. Admit that some­one else may be supe­ri­or to you.
  36. Do not elim­i­nate, but trans­mute.
  37. Con­quer your fears, for each of them rep­re­sents a cam­ou­flaged desire.
  38. Help oth­ers to help them­selves.
  39. Con­quer your aver­sions and come clos­er to those who inspire rejec­tion in you.
  40. Do not react to what oth­ers say about you, whether praise or blame.
  41. Trans­form your pride into dig­ni­ty.
  42. Trans­form your anger into cre­ativ­i­ty.
  43. Trans­form your greed into respect for beau­ty.
  44. Trans­form your envy into admi­ra­tion for the val­ues of the oth­er.
  45. Trans­form your hate into char­i­ty.
  46. Nei­ther praise nor insult your­self.
  47. Regard what does not belong to you as if it did belong to you.
  48. Do not com­plain.
  49. Devel­op your imag­i­na­tion.
  50. Nev­er give orders to gain the sat­is­fac­tion of being obeyed.
  51. Pay for ser­vices per­formed for you.
  52. Do not pros­e­ly­tize your work or ideas.
  53. Do not try to make oth­ers feel for you emo­tions such as pity, admi­ra­tion, sym­pa­thy, or com­plic­i­ty.
  54. Do not try to dis­tin­guish your­self by your appear­ance.
  55. Nev­er con­tra­dict; instead, be silent.
  56. Do not con­tract debts; acquire and pay imme­di­ate­ly.
  57. If you offend some­one, ask his or her par­don; if you have offend­ed a per­son pub­licly, apol­o­gize pub­licly.
  58. When you real­ize you have said some­thing that is mis­tak­en, do not per­sist in error through pride; instead, imme­di­ate­ly retract it.
  59. Nev­er defend your old ideas sim­ply because you are the one who expressed them.
  60. Do not keep use­less objects.
  61. Do not adorn your­self with exot­ic ideas.
  62. Do not have your pho­to­graph tak­en with famous peo­ple.
  63. Jus­ti­fy your­self to no one, and keep your own coun­sel.
  64. Nev­er define your­self by what you pos­sess.
  65. Nev­er speak of your­self with­out con­sid­er­ing that you might change.
  66. Accept that noth­ing belongs to you.
  67. When some­one asks your opin­ion about some­thing or some­one, speak only of his or her qual­i­ties.
  68. When you become ill, regard your ill­ness as your teacher, not as some­thing to be hat­ed.
  69. Look direct­ly, and do not hide your­self.
  70. Do not for­get your dead, but accord them a lim­it­ed place and do not allow them to invade your life.
  71. Wher­ev­er you live, always find a space that you devote to the sacred.
  72. When you per­form a ser­vice, make your effort incon­spic­u­ous.
  73. If you decide to work to help oth­ers, do it with plea­sure.
  74. If you are hes­i­tat­ing between doing and not doing, take the risk of doing.
  75. Do not try to be every­thing to your spouse; accept that there are things that you can­not give him or her but which oth­ers can.
  76. When some­one is speak­ing to an inter­est­ed audi­ence, do not con­tra­dict that per­son and steal his or her audi­ence.
  77. Live on mon­ey you have earned.
  78. Nev­er brag about amorous adven­tures.
  79. Nev­er glo­ri­fy your weak­ness­es.
  80. Nev­er vis­it some­one only to pass the time.
  81. Obtain things in order to share them.
  82. If you are med­i­tat­ing and a dev­il appears, make the dev­il med­i­tate too.

via Dan­ger­ous Minds

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Moe­bius’ Sto­ry­boards & Con­cept Art for Jodorowsky’s Dune

Mœbius & Jodorowsky’s Sci-Fi Mas­ter­piece, The Incal, Brought to Life in a Tan­ta­liz­ing Ani­ma­tion

Moe­bius Gives 18 Wis­dom-Filled Tips to Aspir­ing Artists (1996)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Sheryl Sandberg Talks About What Death Has Taught Her About Life: UC Berkeley Commencement Address, 2016

A lit­tle more than a year ago, Sheryl Sand­berg’s 47-year-old hus­band, Dave Gold­berg, died unex­pect­ed­ly. The ulti­mate cause, heart dis­ease. Sand­berg has since endured many dark days. And now, for the first time, she’s talk­ing pub­licly about the whole expe­ri­ence, and par­tic­u­lar­ly about what death has taught her about life.

Sand­berg picked the appro­pri­ate venue to speak out–the com­mence­ment cer­e­monies at UC-Berke­ley this past week­end. Grad­u­a­tion speech­es tra­di­tion­al­ly ask accom­plished fig­ures to give life advice to young grad­u­ates, and, painful as it might have been, that’s what Sand­berg offered. One day or anoth­er, you’ll expe­ri­ence howl­ing loss­es of your own, and what can get you through these experiences–Sandberg wants you to know–is resilience. She remarked:

And when the chal­lenges come, I hope you remem­ber that anchored deep with­in you is the abil­i­ty to learn and grow. You are not born with a fixed amount of resilience. Like a mus­cle, you can build it up, draw on it when you need it. In that process you will fig­ure out who you real­ly are—and you just might become the very best ver­sion of your­self.

Class of 2016, as you leave Berke­ley, build resilience.

Build resilience in your­selves. When tragedy or dis­ap­point­ment strikes, know that you have the abil­i­ty to get through absolute­ly any­thing. I promise you do. As the say­ing goes, we are more vul­ner­a­ble than we ever thought, but we are stronger than we ever imag­ined.

To increase your resilience, Sand­berg would have you read the 1990 book, Learned Opti­mism: How to Change Your Life and Mind, where Mar­tin Selig­man, the father of Pos­i­tive Psy­chol­o­gy, out­lines tech­niques for look­ing at life events in the health­i­est pos­si­ble way. (That’s what Sand­berg is get­ting at when she talks about per­ma­nence, per­va­sive­ness and per­son­al­iza­tion.) You can read a com­plete tran­script of Sand­berg’s speech here.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

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Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Psy­chol­o­gy & Neu­ro­science Cours­es, a sub­set of 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties.

Cre­ativ­i­ty, Not Mon­ey, is the Key to Hap­pi­ness: Dis­cov­er Psy­chol­o­gist Mihaly Csikszentmihaly’s The­o­ry of “Flow”

Alan Rick­man Recites “If Death Is Not the End,” a Mov­ing Poem by Robyn Hitch­cock

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