I set the alarm for 7:00am and was downstairs closer to 7:20 am. I did exercises, then rushed to be at a dentist appointment by 8:00 am. Upon returning home, I had time to stretch, clear dishes and write in my journal before clocking into work by 10:00 am.
At work, we had a “good-bye” lunch for our head of technology over Zoom. He’s really good, and my coworkers and I are all sorry to see him leave.
Yesterday, I called V, a work friend currently furloughed. (Actually I have posted pictures of her kumquats on this blog.) We discussed the departure of our supervisor. She speculated about the usual work politics issues, particularly given the current re-structuring our company is experiencing. She told me something I had no idea about, however. From an artist friend, she heard one of our business units is requiring digital artists to show up in person and work in the building. Actually, another work friend said he’d been offered a job at this business unit. He debated whether or not to take it for that reason. Moreover, she’d heard that the digital artists were given letters claiming they are “essential workers” that must be on-site. Given that our business unit is a rather large team of digital artists working from home, that’s simply not true.
According to V, the client who hired this particular unit pressured them into keeping the artists on-site for “security” reasons. Basically, they value the secrecy of their story, or the look of their characters, etc., above any risks working on-site poses to the health of artists and their families.
I don’t know what to say about the skewed values and lack of ethics at play there. From my perspective, it’s “bully” behavior. The effects house could refuse to work that way, and then the client would have to find someplace else to go. And if others are equally firm and ethical, there would be no where to go. That is one of the lessons of karate: you have to stand up to bullies. If you don’t, they’ll keep bullying.
Okay, on a less sad note, last night’s story from “Zen Flesh, Zen Bones” was a good one. An emperor convinces a Zen monk, Kakua, known for being elusive and shy, to preach at his court. The monk appears before the emperor and his court. He takes out a flute, plays a single, brief note, and disappears. All the more reason to insist we do what we can to preserve life: it is over too soon.
