What If We Decide This is Something Worth Our Time?

“When was the last time you were walking on a sidewalk and didn’t step on a crack so you wouldn’t break your mama’s back? With a question you can bring us together to focus on something in our shared space that we otherwise wouldn’t see.”
Caryn Aasness

Lately, I’ve been experiencing something akin to interview fatigue. Although I’m chatty by nature and endlessly curious about the people around me, I’ve wondered what’s standing in the way of my enthusiasm for conducting formal interviews these days. Am I asking the wrong questions? Am I thinking about the container of the interview in a limiting way? What does it mean to really listen anyway? In recent years, I’ve learned to find interest in these stuck points, believing that a more informed and authentic way through is just under the surface if I listen closely enough. So when I began to notice feelings of dread around this form of exchange, I decided to turn to my favorite small talker to think more about the art of the chat. 

Caryn Aasness is an artist, scavenger, and a Grade A problem solver. Lucky for me, Caryn also happens to be one of the best listeners and question askers I know. We initially connected over our love of hot dogs and our interest in finding more expansive ways to measure time. Through collaborative party planning, calendar building, and good old fashioned scheming, we’ve discovered ways to approach our daily lived experiences and art practices, with all their predicaments and pleasures, with a shared sense of playfulness and inquisition. On a rainy morning following a calendar workshop we facilitated at a local senior center, Caryn and I pondered what makes a conversation a good one and how we might invite more of them in each day. 


Clara Harlow: How do you identify people you want to talk to? Are there certain people that you specifically feel drawn to having a conversation with?

Caryn Aasness: Some of that has to do with me and if I’m feeling brave enough. And some of it is if I have an interesting enough thing to say.  But I think people kind of give off an attitude if they want to be engaged with or if they aren’t interested in talking to me right now, but sometimes that’s fun to challenge too.  

Clara: What do you think makes us or other people open to unexpected conversation? Because I feel such a difference when I’m in New York and having unexpected conversations versus with people here in Portland. I wonder if a big piece of it is convenience. There’s a lot about time and pace cause people are moving really quickly and have a lot to do. Like if you’re on the subway people are usually down to help with directions if you ask them, but they’re not necessarily going out of their way to have a conversation.

Caryn: I have never been to New York. My sense of it is based on movies, but does it change when you’re on the street versus if you have a captive audience in the subway and you’re going to be on this ride together for at least, I don’t know, how many minutes. Are people more willing? 

Clara: Right. Definitely. I think it does change. And there’s something about, like, no matter how busy you are, there are moments where you just have to turn to someone and be like, “get a load of that!” you know, where you just need to share a moment that’s so hilarious or moving or concerning and you just kind of need to be seen in that regardless. It’s such a human desire to share that with someone actually. 

Caryn: I’m thinking back to what you were saying about how to know if you’re gonna talk to someone. And now I’m thinking, how often do you strike out when you try? How often do you go up to someone and try to engage and it just doesn’t work? 

Clara: Yeah, I’m pretty cheeky, so I don’t really feel afraid to try, and also I don’t feel so wounded if someone’s not down. And I get it because sometimes I’m that person getting groceries and I’m so hungry and tired and blah de blah. But I feel like my days are better when I’m able to find a way to be open to that moment of exchange or acknowledgment with someone. And I think it’s a lot of just getting out of your head and your own life and all the pressures and endless to-dos that we’re all carrying, and actually just paying attention to what’s around you. Being open to some kind of unexpected little moment. 

Caryn: Totally. 

Clara: I will say another thing that evokes conversation for me is when you’re in an objectively absurd circumstance with others. If someone is doing something slightly out of the ordinary, like wearing a fluorescent outfit or carrying AstroTurf on the subway, I’m more likely to try to talk to them. Like you’re already disrupting this sort of social code where we’re going along with things and trying to pretend not to pay attention to each other and it feels like they’re kind of puncturing that social expectation, which can invite in some weirdness. 

So I have a sort of controversial conversation question, but how do you feel about weather talk?

Caryn: I don’t know, sometimes the weather is really interesting. I think you can get to a lot of places from weather talk, so I don’t hate it. I think sometimes you have to go a little further, but also, I guess I can see that this person is trying. And like, I might wish they tried a little harder, or in a weirder way. 

Clara: But it offers a jumping off point. 

Caryn: But talking about weather to people who are not in the same place as you, like now that I’ve moved away from my family and we talk about, “how’s the weather there, where you are,” it feels a little different because I’m picturing what that feels like there and what they’re experiencing. It kind of gives me some flavor for whatever story they’re going to tell me next.

Clara: So if you don’t want to go the weather route, what are some other options for people who are trying to have compelling conversations with loved ones and strangers alike?

Caryn: Yeah, that’s a good question. I feel like a useful starter is a question that everyone can come up with an answer for, but they maybe haven’t necessarily thought about it before. Cause then you sort of see people working it out, like, showing their work. There was a long time where I just had a go-to question, one question I’d ask everyone. For a while it was, if your favorite sitcom dad and your least favorite sitcom dad got into a fight, who would win? And usually people are like, wait, okay. It takes a second to figure out which is which and then we kind of get to go through the fight, you know? I feel like no one’s expecting that question, but you could probably come up with something. And if you can’t, then maybe we’ll have an interesting conversation about how you grew up without TV.

Clara: Yeah, or you’re like, wait a second, why are all the dads on sitcoms bigger and the moms on sitcoms so thin? Like why is that such a trope in all American sitcoms and cartoons? 

Caryn: And it often seems like there’s a dynamic in sitcom marriages of like, the dopey kind of gross dad.

Clara: A total doofus.

Caryn: A total doofus! And then there’s the mom who deserves better and is doing so much for the family. 

Clara: Including the doofus! Wow, that’s a really good conversation starter. I can already feel it sort of coursing through. 

Caryn: I think it’s clear right off the bat that we don’t have to work up to something. Like, we don’t have to volley it back in the exact way that it is scripted in an English textbook or something. 

Clara: Yeah we’re just going there. What happens if we decide this is something worth our time and or is just fun to think through together?

Caryn: Totally, and I guess maybe that depends on where you are and how willing people are to meet you there. I also like to ask people what’s something they recommend. And it’s a good icebreaker when you have to have a formal icebreaker in a room. I think it’s nice when you ask people like, okay, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor, but usually I’m not gonna remember everybody’s favorite ice cream, but if you can recommend anything then I’m going to remember more of those, and maybe have something to talk about with this person later. 

Clara: Yeah or maybe try it and then get back to them about it. 

Caryn: And I like that, I like being able to see what direction people take it in, because sometimes people are like, this is a snack combo I love, and then some people will go an advice route, like today during our workshop at the senior center when people gave you recommendations on soon turning 30; slow down, don’t try to speed through certain parts of your life, because it’s going to go fast anyway. So you get a real broad range of recommendations. 

Clara: Yeah, it allows people to kind of find their voice within the container. It’s not too directed, it’s an invitation. 

Caryn: I think people can handle it.

Clara: Yeah, I think they can rise to the occasion, for sure. One thing I’m wondering is what you think the difference between an interview and a conversation is?

Caryn: I mean, the recording of it in some ways, and whether or not you stick to it, there’s sort of like a formality presented as like, you are the interviewer, and this person is the interviewee. I feel like even just right now, I’ve been talking a little bit differently than we would normally chat. Even like, tone of voice, maybe that’s just me. 

Clara: Uh huh. Well, I am laying down for the audience at home. That might be part of it. 

Caryn: Let the record show. 

Clara: I’m laying on the ground. 

Caryn: Is that allowed in interviews? To lay on the ground? I was thinking about one of the first interviews that I wrote for my high school newspaper, but I did it more magazine style, where I was like, “Principal Zahn leaned back in his chair and chuckled.” You know, like, “The air smelled of…. whatever.”

Clara: A real Vanity Fair intro. 

Caryn: It’s interesting to think, like are you as the interviewer technically allowed to be laying down because, you know, that could be interesting in adding flavor and setting the scene. 

Clara: “Caryn said as they outstretched their hand to me.”  

One of my go to questions in a group of people when there’s a lull is what’s the weirdest thing that happened to you today? 

Caryn: I like to ask people, what do you think is in those couch cushions? Like, if you had to guess, what would we find in there?

Clara: Or like what’s under your bed? 

Caryn: That is a good question. 

Clara: What’s under your bed, Caryn? 

Caryn: Currently I have just a mattress stacked on the floor. I do own a bed frame, but I moved my bed into the corner for the winter.

Clara: Wait, I moved my bed into the corner for the winter!

Caryn: Yeah and how would we have known that about each other if we hadn’t done this dance.

Clara: I know, what a thrill. One thing that I’m wanting to learn is how to be a better listener. And I think that could maybe be connected to being a better interviewer as well. So I was just curious if you had any listening advice for me? 

Caryn: I think of being a good listener sometimes as remembering a thing that that person said. 

Clara: You do have a great memory. 

Caryn: I will remember the weird little thing that you said. So maybe that’s a cheat code for listening, but I do like that when people remember something that I said, of course. Especially because I think it gives you an opportunity to relate something from the person’s life to what’s happening now. I think sometimes someone will tell you a story, and they’re like, well, I don’t want to go into all of this. They’re trying to shorten it or they think you don’t want to hear about that. 

Clara: Yeah, but you always do! 

Caryn: I do want to know about it. They might be like, “So my grandma, blah, blah, blah,” and then I might be like, “Oh wait, your grandma who lives in Texas?” So it becomes more of a map and I always think it’s more interesting. 

Even in regular research I like to find out the context around a fact. Like if I look up a fact on Google, I’m not going to remember that. It’s kind of like the ice cream icebreaker thing. If it stands alone, it doesn’t stick with me the same way. But if I can find out why that happens, how they discovered this thing or whatever, then it’s more interesting and easier to remember. So I like building that context for myself in what somebody else tells me. And I think sometimes people are a little thrown off by it.

Clara: Yeah they’re not used to that level of detail and attention. I feel like it’s a real gift that you give people when you do that. The amount of attention that you can give someone in a conversation is so rare, actually. 

Caryn: Well, I think so much of the stuff we do is not worth paying attention to or is sort of engineered to manipulate our attention? So I feel like we get used to this idea that it’s easier or better or more fun not to pay attention to things, but paying attention to the things that you’re interested in is interesting.

Clara: Right. I even find that when I’m having a really boring day or something goes wrong or is really inconvenient, like I have to go to the DMV or something, I think actually paying attention is what saves it from being a total bust. I think if you can actually really be present and look around the room and be like, “Oh, wait, what’s that sign?” Or like, “why is that upside down?” It actually adds so much delight, you know? 

But it’s funny because when you’re at the DMV, all you want to do is be on your phone and not be there anymore, you know? Same with commuting anywhere. Like, it’s crazy what’s happening on the subway all the time, even the really small details. There’s this Instagram account that I love, maybe you’ve seen it, called Subway Hands, where a photographer takes photographs of zoomed in hands on the subway, holding things or doing things and they’re just totally beautiful and simple, but profound. It’s just this zooming in and paying attention to these really mundane moments that you could easily miss, but that actually tell us so much about ourselves and each other, you know? 

Caryn: Yeah I feel like that is kind of connected to why certain questions work well in a group, because you’re drawing attention to the potential weirdness of a place that we all are constantly passing and might not pay any attention to. When was the last time you were walking on a sidewalk and didn’t step on a crack so you didn’t break your mama’s back? With a question you can bring us together to focus on something in our shared space that we otherwise wouldn’t see.

Clara: Yeah, I feel like it comes back to this question that my friend and mentor Dave [McKenzie] used to always say in relationship to his practice: What if it could matter? Like, what if we just decided this thing—anything—was worth paying deep attention to? And that’s how we make meaning, in our art practices and in our daily lives. I think we’re both really drawn to toying with things in the everyday that people take for granted or aren’t so curious about anymore. How can we play with the frame or contrast, so that we can disrupt expectation and begin to actually think about quotidian things like the calendar grid in different ways? What if this mundane thing actually is really fascinating, we just need to engage with it differently?

Caryn: Yeah, and I guess part of the draw towards listening is not even necessarily that people aren’t curious about it, but there’s someone out there who’s thinking about this thing so much. If I ask a bunch of people a bunch of weird questions and start weird conversations with them, I’m gonna find the person who might have a special interest in that thing. 

There’s a David Sedaris essay where he’s talking about getting bored of the conversations he usually has at his book signings, and so he just started asking random questions. And he asked someone when did you last touch a monkey? And their response is, oh can you smell it on me? Because they happened to work with monkeys or have a monkey. So I feel like part of what’s interesting for me is the idea that you might find the person who’s super interested in this thing and they don’t expect to get to talk about it. 

Clara: Totally, and remembering everyone has at least one of those things. 

Caryn: And so find it. 

Clara: Yeah, exactly. And that’s actually something that I’ve realized in recent years, that every single person has something interesting about them, if not many things. You just need enough time to find the thing. 

Caryn: Totally, and sometimes maybe part of what takes time is building the trust that I’m interested in what you have to say. Like, I’m here for it. Tell me about what you’re interested in. It’s not always immediately clear that I’m actually interested in learning what you’re thinking about because we have so many mundane conversations all the time. It’s kind of like people just predict what we’re gonna say.

Clara: But I think the thing that we can do for each other is saying, take me on that journey with you. Like, let’s really go there together. And I think that’s something you’re so good at.

Caryn: Have we been on some journeys together? 

Clara: Oh without a doubt. 


Caryn Aasness (they/them) is a queer artist from Long Beach, California living in Portland, Oregon. Their practice is an exploration of and an outlet for their obsessive compulsive tendencies, their (often bashful) gender-fuckery, and their temptation to play with language. Working responsively to place and public, Caryn seeks to identify patterns and form connections. Their work is an invitation to stretch a category or collection to its illogical extreme. Caryn has a BFA in Fiber from California State University Long Beach, an MFA in Social Practice from Portland State University, and a snake tattoo. 

Clara Harlow (she/her) is an interdisciplinary artist and educator interested in the question of how we can make today different than yesterday.  Her work operates as an invitation into themes of celebration, exchange, and alternative ways of measuring time and value.  Through parties, workshops, and interactive objects, Clara is invested in how we can turn the dilemmas of the everyday into an opportunity for experimental problem solving and collective delight.  Her practice aims to create responsive public containers for unexpected joy and connection, but if she can just get you to forget about your To Do list for a little while, that’s pretty good too.

The Social Forms of Art (SoFA) Journal is a publication dedicated to supporting, documenting and contextualising social forms of art and its related fields and disciplines. Each issue of the Journal takes an eclectic look at the ways in which artists are engaging with communities, institutions and the public. The Journal supports and discusses projects that offer critique, commentary and context for a field that is active and expanding.

Created within the Portland State University Art & Social Practice Masters In Fine Arts. Program, SoFA Journal is now fully online.

Conversations on Everything is an expanding collection of interviews produced as part of SoFA Journal. Through the potent format of casual interviews as artistic research, insight is harvested from artists, curators, people of other fields and everyday humans. These conversations study social forms of art as a field that lives between and within both art and life.

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