Aguilar's answer? ALL the time, by considering every aspect of life an art project, and part of a broader ongoing inquiry and creative practice. I see life this way, but haven't yet found my own way to allow my art practice to reflect this (at least, not to a satisfying degree). And it takes real imagination, and cojones, to declare every aspect of one's life, art, and to bring an artist's level of curiosity, deep attention, and ingenuity to tasks like washing the dishes, wandering up the street to the local pizza parlor for a slice, and having friends over for dinner...which is *just* what Aguilar does.
As proof, he created the above list for the interview with which it's published, in the January 2013 edition of the NAEA's Art Education Journal. Aguilar considers the list itself an artwork, because of course, he had to turn his interview into an art project. But what I love even more than this conceptual twist on a familar format, is the content of the list itself. He offers 10 tips on how to make your own life, your art. I would love to invite you, dear reader, to add to this list below, by replying to this post. I am going to put my own fuzzy, moth-holed thinking cap on and see what I can come up with.
I have already noticed that practicing Aguilar's tips makes me feel more open. Like today, while on the subway platform: I was approached by a woman in a wheelchair, and clearly she was on a mission for money. She rolled up and introduced herself as Barbara, and asked if I could spare a few bucks. The subway I ride actively discourages panhandling, but, thanks to Aguilar's example, I wasn't in a "rule-following" frame of mind. I liked that Barbara told me her name right off. She was friendly and bold in a way that made her seem proud rather than desperate, and I could see she was disheveled and in need. Thanks to Aguilar, I really opened up to the encounter, choosing to pull first one, then another, one-dollar bill from my wallet. I normally choose not to give money to people who approach me on the street, afraid that I may enable an addiction, or become a target. I think about the latter, particularly, because I am a woman, and I wish I didn't feel so compelled to be cautious about giving freely in these situations. Alberto Aguilar's perspective had me re-envisioning myself as more connected to the world around me - even this urban world, where I work but don't live. He had me seeing it as my community. I liked that. He also had me feeling more playful about the unpredictability of what can happen when you go about your daily life, and inspired to be more aware of my agency in each encounter.
After thanking me for the two dollars (an amount which embarrasses me now - I should have given more), and trying unsuccessfully to solicit several others who made a point to ignore her, Barbara wheeled off to wait for the elevator. A few seconds later, my train arrived, and just then I remembered some lovely raspberry bars my colleague had sent me home with, which were tucked somewhere in my backpack. Barbara needed them more. At the risk of missing my train, I ran across the platform to Barbara, who was about to get on an elevator, and fished the bars out of my bag. I was scrambling and she looked confused -- it was a funny exchange. I credit Aguilar with inviting me into a frame of mind in which my M.O. was not "Playing It Safe", but rather, "Hey -- Who Knows...?" And my point is, he's an artist, and art can be this. Art can do this.
And I like that.
So, don't forget -- if you feel inspired, add a Tip for Integration below...How might you integrate aspects of your daily life into a hypothetical (or actual) creative practice, by changing the way you think and the choices you make as you go about doing what it is you do?
(Click on the image above to open the list as a JPEG file, for printing, etc.)