Leonardo DaVinci and H.B. Reese - A Recipe for Genius

art genius - leonardo da vinci's house at Château du Clos Lucé

What do Leonardo Da Vinci and H.B. Reese, inventor of the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, have in common?
They both took existing objects, technologies and ideas and used them in new ways.
Original. Genius.
I went to Amboise, France some years ago and visited Clos Lucé where Leonardo Da Vinci passed away. I was so moved by the experience, I took my wife back there a few years later to show her the place.
The entire garden and basement of the house are dedicated to his inventions, including models and drawings. There is one idea after the next, all decades or centuries before their time. Everything was forward thinking. Cars, airplanes, helicopters. Steam boats.
What struck me that day at DaVinci’s house though, over and above his genius foresight, was the means by which he proposed to create many of his machines. He mostly used technology and processes which already existed at the time.
He made diagrams of pulleys and wheels with belts to generate leverage for movement in his car. In his pursuit of human flight, he designed wings modeled after birds. And he proposed using manpower to propel his precursor to the military tank.|
All of these foundational elements of his ideas already existed. DaVinci gave them new purpose.
The genius was in his vision. His application of the ideas. Not necessarily the execution.

Enter the peanut butter cup.

If you’re old enough to remember the 1970’s, you may remember the TV commercials which introduced the world to Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. One person is walking with a chocolate bar, while another is going the opposite direction holding an open jar of peanut butter. One inevitably trips over something and the chocolate bar lands in the peanut butter.
After a furious exchange, for some inexplicable reason they each decide to take a bite. Delicious!
Today peanut butter cups are at almost every checkout counter of every market. Millions of people eat them every day. And love them.
Peanut butter and chocolate both existed. H.B. Reese had to the idea put them together.
How can I compare the impact of peanut butter cups to the precursor of airplanes and cars?
Exactly my point.
The idea of repurposing what already exists affects us at every level in every facet of our lives…from simple pleasures, to philosophy, to art and technology.
No matter how revolutionary an idea is or not, every breakthrough in some way is built upon ideas that came before. Who invented the wheel that DaVinci used as a pulley to mechanize his machines? Who was the first person to crush peanuts into a saucy paste?
What about other simple inventions like the paper plate? The paper clip?Or more complex breakthroughs…the personal computer. Satellites. Smartphones.
Or in art. Warhol. Van Gogh.
Music. Frank Ocean. The Beatles.
There is a difference between simply polishing and rehashing what came before, and a truly new idea that lasts over time.
We hear it. We feel it. We know it. But what is it?

I think about this stuff a lot.

It’s HOW they are put together, and WHO put them together.
It’s the process of ingesting something, being affected by it, and then responding to it. By injecting ourselves into the process, it alters the output.
DaVinci thought about the future. He thought about why things were the way they were and where they might be going. It was part of his art. How could he make a great painting which accurately reflected his subjects in the world if he didn’t understand the context of his own life?
I read once that DaVinci expressed regret before he passed away that he didn’t spend more time painting. He felt like he wasted his gift spending too much time on philosophy and inventions. Even if he wasn’t fully conscious of it at the time, I get it. He couldn’t have put that kind of soul into his paintings without all of the thinking.
I don’t know about H.B. Reese’s motivation. I do know he was a candy maker before he invented the peanut butter cup. He had a workshop in his basement where he experimented with new combinations of candies. His biography reads like a poor Willie Wonka. He had the passion. He was an inventor. And he had sixteen children to feed (yes, he had sixteen children!).
As an artist, I know when I ingest an idea...allow it to affect me, and mix it with my own personal subconscious mind...my unique experience on this planet, it comes out different.
It doesn’t guarantee greatness or that it’ll resonate, but it does guarantee that its fresh.
That’s the magic sauce. Our personal filter. Our interpretation.
We are all originals. No two minds or bodies are the same. Even identical twins have differences.
No one has our particular life experience. Our particular perspective. There is no exact equivalent to any one person on this planet. So as soon as we bring a unique combination of ideas together, and insert something of ourselves into it, it’s going to be new. Original. It can’t miss.
Sometimes ideas are so far ahead of their time they make people uncomfortable and don’t get traction. Most of DaVinci’s inventions never saw the light of day until hundreds of years later when technology caught up to him.
H.B. Reese had multiple setbacks and years inventing candy before the peanut butter cup.
I bet right now you can think of multiple success stories you’ve heard where peoples' ideas were continually mocked or rejected…until one day, a door opened.
The best ideas…the ones that really change the world on some level, are not always the money makers. At least at first. But we still need them. Without new ideas, we can’t move forward. Our civilization won’t make it.It’s that important.

New problems require new solutions.

We have to keep creating. We have to keep pushing limits. We have to try to see things from different perspectives. We have to continually challenge our own beliefs, accepted ideas and the functionality of things.
The great news is, when we insert an element of ourselves into the process, it feels good.
It’s not easy. It can be uncomfortable. And it certainly isn’t the safe route.
But when did playing it safe get us anywhere? It’s bold leaders who inspire us. It’s bold products, stories and artistic endeavors that excite us and make us feel alive.
Have you ever had a decision to make, chosen the safe route and felt electrified by life afterward?
I haven’t.
I think it’s the Universe’s way of telling us to go there.

How To Be Smart

contemporary digital collage with horseshoe

I thought I knew.
I had a friend of a friend once who worked with President Bill Clinton.
He said, “the President was usually the smartest person in the room. And if he wasn’t, he always knew who was.”
That still sticks with me.
Smart is a loaded word.
She gets good grades. She must be smart. He runs a successful business. He must be smart.
Both are technically true. It seems so simple…
But there are all kinds of smart.
Street smart.
Book smart.
Emotional smart.
Intuitive smart.
Political smart.
Evil smart.
Cunning smart.
Motivational smart.
Clever smart.
Someone can be smart at one thing and totally clueless in another. In fact some of the “smartest" people I know, are oblivious in other areas of their life.
I’m no exception.
I was desperate and needed work.
I couldn’t stand my job so I quit. It wasn’t so much the job. My life was going nowhere, I felt like a failure, and I was afraid I’d never be anything else. Nothing in my life was working.
But instead of facing all that, because really...who would want to? I blamed the job. It was easier. I thought maybe if I shook things up, I’d sprout wings and fly.
Next time I leap to grow wings, I’m bringing blueprints. Just in case.
It was the mid-90’s and computers were just coming on the scene. I bought some books and tried to learn Photoshop and HTML code thinking I could make websites for money. Over the next few months, I got moderately proficient at both, but I couldn’t find any work.
Things got messy at home. My bank account balance dwindled and my girlfriend started paying the rent.  We didn’t get along all that well to begin with, which is a whole other story, but she was a good sport and tried to be supportive.
Unfortunately, for a slew of reasons, most of which are well documented in University Psychology Department textbooks all over the world, the situation at home continued to deteriorate.
I interviewed at Starbucks just hoping to find some work. My options were limited, but I needed to relieve the tension at home.
Then one night I met my good friend Jeff for dinner. I think he took pity on me. He said he owned a computer consulting company and asked if I’d want to stop by his office to see if there was anything I could do. I had a second interview scheduled at Starbucks the next day, but I postponed it to go check it out. What did I have to lose?
It was a nice little building in Santa Monica with no art on the walls and a couple empty offices. I don’t know how long the company had been there, but it was the office equivalent of a bachelor pad. It looked like someone just moved in. Computers on desks and a hallway.
It easily could’ve been the most depressing place on earth. Most corporate offices I’d been in were exactly that…hellish cubicle-ridden boxes of slow death. But in Jeff’s office everyone was smiling. They all seemed relaxed and genuinely happy to be there. And so was I.
They asked me to fix a network printer and I miraculously got it to work. To this day I still have no idea how I did it. I didn’t even know what a network was. I turned the printer on and off, clicked around in the control panel for a few minutes and then it magically started printing.It was either dumb luck or divine intervention. Both explanations are equally plausible.In spite of my utter ignorance of networking computers and how they functioned, Jeff asked me to come back. Then he offered me a job. Jeff and his partners were the kind of people who believed in people and took chances. A rare breed. That quality is even more rare today. I’m grateful they took a chance on me.
Before long they trained me as a programmer. Then the guy who trained me left, and I became Senior Programmer. As Y2K approached, the company expanded and hired new people. That’s when I met Doug.
Doug was brought in to work on the software interface we were installing at client sites. He was always quitting coffee. He’d swear it off for a couple weeks, then inevitably one day I’d come in and he’d have a Venti from Starbucks sitting on his desk with bloodshot eyes. He had been up half the night working. Again.
I’d say something like “Off the wagon again?
”He’d glance over, “Yeah, it didn’t work out too well.”
Doug could figure out anything. No matter what strange request came from a client, he was always working miracles from the server room. He was a genius.
I’d ask him questions about his solutions, and he’d explain them. Most of his explanations were over my head. How does he figure all this stuff out? Doug didn't have a high degree from a school or anything. He just loved it.
Whenever I hit a wall with a project I was working on, I’d go ask Doug for help. He always had a lighthearted, calm response, and would either give me a suggestion or flat out tell me what to do.
Finally one day I asked him…”how do you know all this?”
His answer?“
I don’t.”
“Huh?”
I sat down and he proceeded to show me all of the books he had in the office, as well as a whole series of websites, forums and previously written code by other people he regularly consulted.
When Doug didn’t know the answer. He knew where to look. He knew who the smartest people in the room were.
I realized in that moment that I didn’t have to have the answers at work or in my life. I didn’t have to know what to do. I just had to know where to look. It was the only skill I’d ever need.
Was I "smart" to quit my job? By most definitions of the word, no. And yet, somehow in sitting home teaching myself some basic computer skills, it was JUST enough to completely alter the trajectory of my life.
I try not to confuse “smart” with “wisdom” anymore. Our lives are some sort of bizarre balancing dance between free will and incomprehensible cosmic forces. The alchemy of which baffles me.
I’d rather be wise than smart. Wisdom wins in the long run every time.
As I get older and my bucket of experiences is filling up, I see things from a bigger perspective. I’m learning more about that dance.
Do I consider myself smart?
If smart means knowing all the answers, then, no. I don't consider myself particularly smart at most things.
But I think knowing where to look is a smarter play. Because then there is always a path up and forward.
I try to say open. Be aware…and be willing to be wrong. Because sometimes wrong turns out alright.
I think it’s smart to remember that.

My Clamshell Addidas: RIP 2009 - 2016

Inspiration to embrace the past and move forward

You will be missed.
The Sneaker Eulogy

My black clamshell Adidas, made in Indonesia and purchased during one of the greatest summers of my life, passed into the great unknown on October 16th. They had a good life and I will be forever grateful for their friendship and service.
They began their life tied to my feet in Western Europe during a once in a lifetime adventure I will never forget. Later, they became my “go to” sneakers while living in Northern California.
As they aged, they persevered. Even after the bottoms had worn off and I could no longer wade through a puddle without getting my socks wet, they soldiered on and graduated into my studio work shoes.
I loved them. And I truly believe they loved me. Comfortable and sturdy. I will miss them dearly. I cannot imagine another pair of sneakers ever taking their place.
We first met not longer after I put all my belongings in storage and moved to Madrid for the summer in 2009. My leather Jack Purcells could not make the trip and expired within days upon my arrival.
Then, in trying to impress a Spanish girl I met, I made an ill advised purchase of some patent leather sneakers at a funky mall. The hipster shoes were a debacle. In a matter of days, I had blisters all over my feet and was limping around town.
All I wanted to do was walk. Experience. Explore. I couldn’t stop.In a desperate plea, I scoured touristy Calle Mayor for a new pair. I was no longer concerned about style or looking cool. I just needed SOMETHING I could walk in. I found a random shoe store, basically a Spanish version of Foot Locker but smaller, and took a look around. Options were limited.Nothing jumped off the shelf, but one pair did quietly catch my eye. Adidas. Clamshell toe. I’m not normally an Adidas guy and the classic clams didn’t sit right with me. I'm not a rapper and, right or wrong, that's how I always associated them.
But these were a little different. White toe. Black bodies. And instead of  three big white stripes, they had clear plastic stripes. They were understated in a way, and I liked that. I didn’t need to make a statement. I just wanted to walk without falling over. I managed to mumble “diez?” And with some wild hand motions was able to communicate to the clerk that I wanted to try on a pair. Size 10.
I’m used to wearing Converse with less support. These hugged my foot. They had big arches. They weren’t uncomfortable, but different. I kept staring at the clamshell toe. Could I pull this off? My feet were pretty raw, but I felt like I could probably walk in them. I figured I’d give it a shot. I put the patent leather clunkers in the box and wore these right out of the store. My feet immediately relaxed and the healing process began. In a matter of days, I didn’t have to think about my blisters anymore and was able to focus on my surroundings.
I rented a flat in Madrid. I did mile upon mile of walking for months, experiencing ancient beautiful sites for the first time. I made awful paintings in my room (I was new to painting.)
I met new friends. I had a magical experience at Leonardo da Vinci’s house in Amboise, France. There were train rides. Airports. A life changing epiphany in Nice. All with these shoes on my feet.I got dehydrated during the Spanish summer and began having heart palpitations. I was scared and alone in the south of France. My shoes were there.I visited Renoir’s house. Then there was the night I had a few drinks and got lost in the streets of Barcelona…with these shoes on my feet.
After I got back to the US, I took long walks in the woods in Nevada City, CA. I went on a first date with the woman who is now my wife. I made most of the art for my first solo show in 2010, and pretty much all my art since. It’s been six years of massive changes in my life…and my clamshell Adidas were with me the whole way.
I tried to give them a good life. I don’t miss most shoes when their days are done. I don’t get weepy every time I buy a new shirt and donate an older one.
But in rare cases, there are memories. Adventures. Epiphanies. And these shoes represent my connection to those moments. Not so easy to let go.
I feel a little empty. And sad. Perhaps I’m caught up in an overly romantic tale I’m telling myself. But I don’t care.
I’m losing romance in my life. I feel the pull to become less excitable. Less interested. To be more numb. Because it really is all too much.
I don't want to lose the magic thought just because I have more shit to do and the news sucks. Or because things haven’t turned out how I imagined they would when I was 25.
“Reality" is overrated. As much as realism is important in life, I’m learning more and more as I get older that “real" is just truth. And truth can fly in the face of reason. It doesn’t have to be logical. Or rational. It doesn’t have to make sense. It doesn’t have to be practical. Real truth is emotional. It hits at the core. It's the absolute magic of life. That which makes everything else worth doing and living for.
For me, these shoes are a physical connection to past moments when the veil was lifted and I felt alive. Really alive.I read recently that happiness is an act of defiance in this world.
Then I saw this:
“I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell, but just coming to the end of his triumph.” - Jack Gilbert
I want more triumphs in my life.
I will have more triumphs in my life.
And some have come to an end.