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March 3rd, 2011
07:50 pm - Story in Art
At loose ends this week, I decided to explore Seattle's "First Thursday Art Walk." I wasn't very well organized about it... just meandered down to Pioneer Square to see what I might see. I have an odd relationship with art: some of my most powerful inspiration has come from visual imagery, and it has a different impact on me than other forms traditional creative work. But, at other times it just makes me feel ignorant. Like someone is charging a cover charge to look at plain concrete wall.
I'm not saying this is an Emperor's New Clothes thing, I really think I'm just not getting it.
This thought occurred to me: I need story in my art.
I was in one place where an artist was painting with oil on steel. His work varied from purely abstract to stylized landscapes, but in both cases the technique was fascinating. The effect was impressive: large, colorful, bold, with a brilliant texture, as though the oil had been laid on thick and then pressed under glass. (Hmm, suddenly I want to try that.) But after spending some time contemplating the physical approach, I walked away unchanged.
That was, I think, the second place I went into, and the rest of the places I checked out had even less of an impact on me. (Most were also crowded and reverberant with exhausting small-talk and pretentious drivel.)
By the time I gave up on it, I was feeling very alienated. Walking back through the damp night, I contemplated my irritation. I think more than anything what I missed out on this evening was either the conveyance of story or the inspiration of story.
Illustration, of course, is all about the conveyance of story, and I can draw considerably nourishment from even a poorly executed illustration. (I might not want to hang that in my home, where the power would too quickly be drained.) The art in the galleries, however, gave me nothing.
Now some landscapes fill me with such a sense of place and bring a sense of wonder that can fill me with the desire to populate that place with story; but the landscapes that impressed me tonight did not. They were elegant, but--as I mentioned--stylized. They had a definite wow-factor, even beyond technique: composition, color, shape, shadow... but they did not have detail.
One teacher told me: the art of writing is the accumulation of specific detail. There's a part of *great* illustration that may be driven by the same principle. Consider the paintings of John Singer Sargent: his portraits imply deeply moving stories; they impart a definite human reaction to the subject, and largely because the details are (A) there, and (B) coherent. A painting has less detail than a photograph (close examination of Sargent's brushwork may startle you with the fact they are not at all photo-realistic, and yet the brain transforms the painting into a person who could step off the canvas); but a painting offers detail that has meaning and purpose. It has intent. It has (or suggests, or implies, or inspires) story.
Or it can.
There have been times when I have been able to really appreciate all sorts of abstract art, to understand the story inherent in the historical dialog from an art-theory perspective. Usually that kind of appreciation comes to me through conversation with someone who actually understands and appreciates what's going on there. Absent that, I just drink in the imagery, hungry for the depiction of or inspiration for story.
Tonight I didn't get it.
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March 1st, 2011
08:40 pm - Blogging
A couple of weeks ago I was at RadCon.
I was scheduled to be on a panel which, most regrettably, I missed because the scheduled it several hours before my arrival time. (Typical con phenomenon.)
The theme of the panel was something like this: "Blogging -- Is this the perfect time to start?"
Sometimes cons have a tendency to take a panel, re-use the title and description, but put new people on it for several years in a row. I was on some podcasting panels like this well past the interesting years of podcasting. But blogging... has this panel been running since 1997?
I started "blogging" in about 1995. We called it "Online Journalling" then, and it was seen as a strange and "risky" behavior. I mean sane people lock up their dear-diary entries the second they are done vomiting their worst psychoblather onto the page. And believe me, the early years of blogging were exactly that. Times have changed a little... people have been fired, relationships have been destroyed, hoaxes have been perpetrated, and we're all pretty much over it now. In fact, I think we've been over it for somewhere between 10 and 12 years.
I had some mighty fine online diaries back in the day; and only signed up for livejournal after retiring my sixth or seventh highly customized online journal. I basically got tired of either trying to be anonymous, or caring about any of the bullshit inherent in the whole phenomenon.
Now we tweet. Now we update our facebook status. Now we dabble in internet-enabled conversations with people we don't know, with people we do know, with celebrities we admire, with total batshit loonies, and (this is in no particular order) fellow human beings who are putting their lives on the line to overthrow tyranny in distant lands.
More than any other recent example, I think the now-ended literary career of @MayorEmanuel shows exactly how marginalized actual blogging is, other than as a nondescript functional component of the larger context of the virtual social network.
To be clear: blogging isn't dead, it's not replaced by twitter or facebook -- rather the entire milieu of social contact across national, racial, and class borders has splintered beyond the traditional conception of a blog and is an insect's-eye view of a seething, self-absorbed globe of human fascination. I still blog (occasionally), tweet (moderately), and use a collection of cobbled-together tools to try to keep some of this relatively coherent. Not because anyone cares, but because there are simply too many hastily-erected social networks to try to keep track of them all.
But the perfect time to start blogging?
That's like telling a Neanderthal in the Elizabethan era that it's a perfect time to master readin' and writin'. And to start wearing whalebone corsets.
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January 18th, 2011
12:44 pm - Tom's of Main Sold Out
If I had been paying attention, I would have known that they sold out some time ago. 2006, to be precise. To Colgate. For $100M. Good for you Tom & Kate. Hard to turn down a hundred million when you started the company on $5,000.
I had noticed over the past few years -- probably just about 4 -- that strange ingredients were creeping into Tom's of Maine toothpaste. Used to be every ingredient came with a source, but then some of the ingredients had chemical names, and the source was listed as "The Earth." Then the source was dropped entirely.
But when I bought toothpaste this week, I noticed out of the corner of my distracted attention that the branding had changed. It was only when I got home that I compared the details.
"Natural Care" has been dropped from the logo. Uh oh.
The "Tom and Kate" statement and signature are gone. Uh oh.
The phone number is gone.
The address has changed, although it is still in Maine.
It no longer says "All Natural" -- it only says "Natural."
Now, I didn't buy the same kind of toothpaste (not sure if it exists anymore anyway), so this might not be apples-to-apples, but the current tube includes a number for poison control if you accidentally eat your whole tube of toothpaste. My previous tube did not have this. Obviously, when toothpaste is poison, you've crossed some line or another.
Anyway, this all prompted me to figure out what happened to poor Tom and Kate, and when.
I presume the writing has been on the wall since the acquisition in 2006, but only now has some corporate functionary gone up to Maine to clean house and deliver toothpaste the good old fashioned Colgate way: poisonous and without all that hippy shit cluttering up the clean design of a well packaged product.
Needless to say, I will be looking for a new brand of toothpaste.
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January 12th, 2011
09:33 am - What is Repentence? What is Redemption?
On Sunday I sat down to watch the Eagles game. I don't really follow football, but when my hometown team makes it to the post-season, I can enjoy watching. And since I had just enjoyed the Seahawks underdog victory the day before, I was in the mood.
But then I thought about Michael Vick. I thought about cheering for Michael Vick's great plays. I couldn't really bring myself to do that. I actually really like the Packers, too. The only citizen-owned football team, it has a very special place in football history, and even without the disappointingly human Favre, it's been a strong team. So I considered rooting for the Packers! But then I realized that I really just didn't want to watch Michael Vick.
A tweet to that effect got mixed response. My dog-loving friends were right there with me. But some others made the reasonable point that Vick has done his time, renounced his former sins, and in our society, should be forgiven and welcomed back into civilized company.
I agree with that latter sentiment 100%. And yet... I can't bring myself to cheer for the guy.
I imagined that I would have a much warmer feeling for the man if, instead of rejoining the NFL and his celebrity lifestyle, he had devoted himself to the protection of animals. But what if this man has just one gift in his life, and that is throwing a perfectly accurate spiral? It's a strange gift to celebrate, surely, but in our society, we do that. Who am I to require a person to walk away from his bliss, his passion, his gift?
I don't know that much about him as a person. Is Michael Vick articulate? Is he charismatic? Is he an effective organizer? A quick check on Wikipedia shows he has a few very modest charitable donations, but none to animal-related causes, at least none reported there.
I think my conclusion is pretty simple: there is a lot more that Michael Vick could do or could have done to persuade me that he has truly repented; that he has become a new person, one who empathizes with other living creatures and abhors his former actions. But ultimately, his repentance and redemption are between him and God.
Even if he convinced me 100% that he was a changed person, I could cheer for him in his efforts to protect, rescue, or rehabilitate animals, but -- for me -- his existence as a sports celebrity are over.
This might not be rational, and it point to my own irrational feelings towards animals, but hey, not all feelings are rational. But the simple fact is, some actions are irrevocable. Some things change a person -- and the world -- for ever. Some things simply cannot be undone.
Mr. Vick, obviously, does not need to care what a few animal loving loonies think of him in order to carry on with his passion (or his very successful career). Nonetheless, in my world, he can no longer be a simple football hero. If he's going to be a hero, it has to be some other kind of hero entirely.
Go 'Hawks!
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January 3rd, 2011
03:25 pm - Welcome 2011
2010 doesn't feel like it was much of a win, neither personally, nor globally. Here's hoping 2011 will be better.
One thing that probably won't be much better is me posting on livejournal. The ads around here are driving me nuts. I have a big technical project (personal) underway, and part of that will be putting together a technical blog to document some of the stuff that happens along the way.
The whole technical project has derailed some other long-term ideas that have been percolating, including some writing projects and some publishing projects. Honestly, after we shut down IROSF I've been hankering to get back to the publishing game in a new way, but some of my ideas were too grandiose, and others have been undermined by other projects out there, so that enthusiasm is amorphous at best.
As for the writing, well... I wrote some fine scenes and even a couple of quite worthy chapters in 2010, but nothing complete, neither short nor long. I'm going to need a lot more discipline to get the writing back on the rails, and right now I'm trying to channel that discipline into learning Cello and working on this technical project.
However, I am following corvida's 42 days of sketches with a pacific northwest fairy theme, and I'm keeping myself open to the idea of using one or more of those as inspiration for a story.
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October 29th, 2010
10:32 am - Why I don't believe in Halloween costumes at work
Costumes at work are a terrible idea.
I can think of few ideas more inherently flawed.
It's not because I don't like costumes. I'm a little mixed on that for personal reasons, but only as it applies to me wearing them. I think people in costume are fantastic. Especially when the costumes are creative and expressive, as opposed to flimsy nylon prostitute outfits bought at Wallgreens.
In fact, I like the idea of costumes so much I think that the reason they should not be worn to work is because work demeans the costume.
A costume is an extension of a mask. Masks and costumes are about putting on a new and ephemeral identity. They are about stepping outside your own identity and diving into a fantasy persona with no repurcussions. There are some Christians who deplore macabre costumes and only permit their children to wear angel wings or halos or whatnot (if that), but this misses the whole point. We have other people inside of us. There are demons in our hearts, all of us. Put on a mask and let that demon out--in a demi controlled way that stirs the energies these alternate selves gather over time, release the tensions that we employ to hold them there.
Costumes in general and Halloween in particular offer a socially sanctioned venue to take the demons for a walk, let them frolic in public. This is awesome because not only does it release the fetters binding our inner creativity, but it disarms the fear that can build up around it. Even the cheap hooker outfits and pathetic pimp suits accomplish this task.
The next step, however, unravels everything. Wearing the costume to work negates the power of the costume. We sit at our keyboards, and slouch off to meetings. We do the same thing we have done every other day, have the same conversations with the same people, only now they are dressed up funny. Work is not livelied up, rather, the costume is completely emasculated. Instead of feeling released from the strictures of our responsible, in-control selves, we feel faintly ridiculous.
Conclusion: wear the costume in a time and place where you can go berserk, let go of all the self-consciousness and respectability and abandon the social norms that guide your everyday existence. By all means, let the demons roam the Earth, give voice to the fear of death, darkness, destruction, and wild, ecstatic passions.
But please, not at the office. It just doesn't work that way.
(PS. If yours is the kind of workplace where the whole day is a party, a celebration of the costume, and what you are actually doing is letting the demons roam at work--then this post does not apply. Rather than negating the costume, you are actually exercising it where it is probably most needed in your life. But my hunch is that's the exception to the rule.)
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August 20th, 2010
08:01 pm - Reasons to hate microsoft #4,312,780
So...
I have this mac for work. It's been a long time since I've had occasion to use excel for anything, but suddenly an opportunity arose.
I planned it carefully, and researched some approaches. I would have one sheet that would be an entry form. A second sheet could be used to incrementally add each form's input into a long sequence. The third sheet would be used to calculate summary info from the second sheet.
I could use some pretty nifty arithmetic operations and two key macros.
It took me about 2 hours to set the sheets up just so, everything perfect including some fun matrix multiplication.
Then all I had to do was record two macros, one simple, one a rather tricky.
But, what's this? The macros button on the tools menu has no record option like people say it should. I call up excel's help menu, and there is just some crufty looking stuff about importing macros from your older excel application. Hm. I turn on online help, and that gives me more of the same: nothing.
I go back to google, and lo and behold: the new microsoft excel does not offer macros for Excel on the mac.
No macros for excel??? That's like no spell check for Word!! WTF???
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August 18th, 2010
02:07 pm - Tiger Oil Memos
I've been grooving on the management style of Edward 'Tiger Mike' Edwards. He owned an oil company, now defunct, and the Letters of Note site has some of his memos posted.
Some gems:
"Idle conversation and gossip in this office among employees will result in immediate termination.... DO YOUR JOBS AND KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!"
"Anyone who lets their hair grow below their ears to where I can't see their ears means they don't wash. If they don't wash, they stink, and if they stink, I don't want the son-of-a-bitch around me."
"There is one thing that differentiates me from my employees. I am a known son-of-a-bitch, and I care to remain that way. I have the privilege of swearing publicly, in front of anyone, or doing anything I want to because I pay the bills. When you work for me, you don't have that privilege."
"Do not speak to me when you see me. If I want to to speak to you, I will do so. I want to save my throat. I don't want to ruin it by saying hello to all of you sons-of-bitches."
"... There will be no more birthday celebrations, birthday cakes, levity, or celebrations of any kind within the office. This is a business office. If you have to celebrate, do it after office hours on your own time."
"I am not fond of hippies, long-hairs, dope fiends or alcoholics. I suggest each and every person in a supervisory category (from driller up to me) eliminate these people."
"As you know, after one full year of employment you receive two weeks' vacation and two weeks respectively each year worked thereafter. Effective immediately, the two weeks per year must be taken one week at a time and begin the end of the week. There will be no more taking one or two days at a time and combining them with holidays and weekends. If, in my opinion, you deserve additional time off you must obtain it from me proving to me that you have worked hard enough to get it - not trying to edge a day here and a day there combined with the holidays. I am not a fool - I know you can take two weeks and stretch them into two months properly done so don't insult my intelligence. Ask for it like a man."
Great stuff.
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August 12th, 2010
11:54 am - bike v. cop
There has been some debate as to whether this bicyclist is a jerk, whether the cops are unbelievable jerks, or both. From Contour, watch (A) a car nearly hit a bicyclist. (B) Bicyclist, off balance, veer temporarily across the yellow line. (C) Bicyclist get pulled over, harassed, and ticketed for unsafe riding.
Whoops. The original videographer removed the video. Perhaps because he filmed the police which apparently is illegal in Massachusetts.
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August 6th, 2010
02:33 pm - A thousand years since my last post
And yet, I live. And breath.
And now work for Contour, maker of wearable video equipment and promoter of personal adventure video storytelling.
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