How Do You Feed Your Brain?

Sometimes I forget, especially while finishing up a large project, that I don’t operate well on fumes.

Henri Maillardet's "Draughtsman-Writer," from the Franklin Institute Collection

I need to get out, get inspired, start thinking about new things other than what the Internet brings me.  This brain requires doses of serendipity, intersections, and randomness.  These are hard to find near my desk.  They are outside.

It being February, the month of staring out of doors and waiting for things to bloom, I think it’s important to remind myself that there is an outside.

Last week and this, brain-feeding took occasional precedence over work – lunches and dinners with friends, cooking new recipes, walks through local museums and parks, an upcoming concert, and surprise-geocaching. At some point this week or next, I’ll hop a local train and see where it takes me.

So, what do you do to feed your brain?

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7 comments

    • Oh PAFA would be fun… hm, maybe around lunchtime someday.

      I notice you’ve dodged the question, so I will start making a list of how, no… what A.C. Wise feeds her brain.

      • We could meet for lunch some day, then I could turn you loose in the galleries! Alternately, if your whole family is interested, we’re currently free on Sundays and there is various related public program stuff going on.

        The question of how/what/who I feed my brain may be answered by picturing a Venus Flytrap. It tends to grab unsuspecting things that stray too close. Yum!

  1. Lovely.

    Most often I go into the mountains for inspiration, though I suspect that won’t surprise you. During the summer, I like taking long runs (“run” in the literal sense) through Seattle, picking a different direction each time, until I find someplace new and bizarre–even if it’s just a small art installation in my own neighborhood that I’ve never noticed. I like the slower pace of being of foot, the time to notice things. And BONUS, exercise 🙂

    Actually now that I think about it, I see similarities to your method of hopping on a random train.

  2. Quickly through the bars, so not to lose a finger. 🙂

    Actually (as you probably already know), the beach (especially off-season) does it for me. Or just being unplugged from the hive mind and strictly in my skin, even strolling around the block with my pup at night.

    Coming back to the presence of my present is new enough.

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