Atlas, Sisyphus and Hercules...

did not walk into a bar, although that could make for some good jokes.

I have been feeling each one of these Greek gods in turn as the election looms ever closer. But we’ll get to them in a minute.

First I want to report that I returned Sunday night from our annual Color Designers International conference in San Francisco, appreciative of the diversion from the life or death issues I’m afraid to put down. I was so happy to hang out with my colleagues, and very relieved that the presentation I delivered on Saturday went over well. 

My talk was about the need to differentiate our services from the flashy color analysis demos many people see on TikTok and Instagram. Those of us who consider ourselves to be REAL seasonal color analysts are struggling to remain relevant in this social media world, where the analysis methods are definitely cheaper and quicker, but produce inaccurate and generic results.

Many of our members were trained in the holistic process created in the 1950s by Suzanne Caygill, which takes into account much more than the color of your skin, hair and eyes—like personality, body and face shapes, aesthetics, cultural background, and lifestyle preferences. When we’ve experienced how empowering and transformational a holistic color analysis can be, we’re pained when someone spends money on the low-priced spread, and then is disappointed and decides it’s just hooey.

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I know it’s not my job to worry on behalf of our fragile democracy, but that’s where I am, as are many other thinking people. The upcoming election jolts me awake at night. Am I a modern-day Sisyphus, trying to push the boulder of stupidity up to where Trump cultists can finally see the light? Sisyphus’s efforts were an exercise in futility for all eternity. He never gets there.

Or could I be trying to emulate Hercules? He was sentenced to perform a dozen impossible labors (“Herculean tasks”), the fifth of which was to clean the Augean Stables—in one day. These infamous stables sheltered thousands of cows, goats and sheep every night, and had not been cleaned in 30 years, so they were up to HERE in shit. Merely shoveling the shit would not cut it because the animals never stopped pooping. 

That’s me, trying to counteract the spew of excrement from Fox, NewsMax, TruthSocial, and Elon Musk’s propaganda machine X, which magnifies and repeats the worst of the excrement on social media. Yes. I absolutely understand that I cannot change a Trumper’s mind. But to let bullshit just sit there is to condone the fiction, so I do what I can to refute it. I’m making calls to voters in swing districts and I’m writing postcards* to the undecided. To put down the shovel feels like I’m not holding up my end of the deal. 

Oh if I were only as clever as Hercules! Instead of shoveling endless piles of poop, he tore a big hole in the downhill wall of the stables, and another on in the uphill wall. Then he dug wide trenches to link to a nearby river to divert the waters into the stables and flow through them, thereby flushing out all the shit in one big whoosh!  If I could conjure up an October surprise (that didn’t kill or flood people) to accomplish this whoosh! bring it on.

*Meanwhile I’m writing postcards and if you’re local I would love to have company. Thursday from 4 to 7pm in NW Portland. Also Saturday afternoon 1-4p. Next week as well, but dates not yet set. I’ve got the cards and $116 worth of stamps. Reply to this email if you’d like to join me.

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PUT YOURSELF IN THE WAY OF BEAUTY (Human-made in this case)

Early morning reflection on the Redwood City Lagoon, across from our hotel

A view of the totally renovated Portland Airport. That’s real wood in the ceiling and on the floor.

A very handsome car spotted in my neighborhood—1980s replica of a 1929 Mercedes.