“So many times, we make decisions about who we are – who we want to be, who we aspire to be, what we…”
So many times, we make decisions about who we are – who we want to be, who we aspire to be, what we aspire to do – based on what we believe are our own self-imposed limitations, not those of the world. And we live inside those self-imposed limitations, without any sense that we can actually expand [them] if we let ourselves.
I don’t think it’s a matter of overcoming [our] fears – fears are fears, and we have a reptilian brain which we can’t simply turn on and turn off… It is critical to live despite those fears – if you’re waiting for the fears to go away, they’re not. You have to make a decision that you want [what you want] more than you want to be held back or self-protected by those fears.”
- A magnificent conversation with Debbie Millman, who is an incessant source of wisdom on how to live a good life and how to muster the courage necessary for a creative career. (via explore-blog)
I’m no master magician but I do know how wonder feels. There are many good things about magic and I feel that it’s my job, as a parent, to make those things so ridiculously awesome that my kid never loses the feeling of awe that the world can provide.
Magic is a predecessor to science. It provides hope where there is the mundane.
"Daddy, will you still have magic when you get old?"
"As long as you believe in daddy’s magic, I will have magic"
"Even when you get tired?"
"Especially when I get tired"”
I’m not yet a parent, but this is stored in my parenthood file. I’m also all about this for all of the young people I work with. Never lose the feeling of awe. With this in mind, you might say poetry = the flavour of magic that I practise.
JB: How do you respond as an artist to someone, even— I'm assuming these people are your teachers— even if someone is your teacher, saying you need to write about this, you need to do this, and then you sit down and do your work, does that mean you necessarily would do that, or... I mean, a lot of writers I know see their work rising organically from the page. How do you make sense of those forces?
CMB: I believe in it, in the organics of poetry, and all that is fine and well, but I think that these poets, particularly these people— Thomas, Al and Toi— asking these things out of me, you know, whether they felt it was need or not, I discovered the need in myself to write through these things, if not just about them.
We had a lot of trouble with western mental health workers who came here immediately after the genocide and we had to ask some of them to leave.
They came and their practice did not involve being outside in the sun where you begin to feel better. There was no music or drumming to get your blood flowing again. There was no sense that everyone had taken the day off so that the entire community could come together to try to lift you up and bring you back to joy. There was no acknowledgement of the depression as something invasive and external that could actually be cast out again.
Instead they would take people one at a time into these dingy little rooms and have them sit around for an hour or so and talk about bad things that had happened to them. We had to ask them to leave.”
- ~A Rwandan talking to a western writer, Andrew Solomon, about his experience with western mental health and depression.
From The Moth podcast, ‘Notes on an Exorcism’. (via jacobwren)
“Do the work. It’s a stay against paralysis, against the descent of dread. It’s less dramatic than…”
- The Weird, Scary and Ingenious Brain of Maria Bamford - NYTimes.com (via dc-via-chicago)
“At the core of Pollen is an argument: First, that digital books should be the best books we’ve ever…”
At the core of Pollen is an argument:
First, that digital books should be the best books we’ve ever had. So far, they’re not even close. Second, that because digital books are software, an author shouldn’t think of a book as merely data. The book is a program. Third, that the way we make digital books better than their predecessors is by exploiting this programmability.
That’s what Pollen is for.”
Pollen is a publishing system that helps authors create beautiful and functional web-based books. Hallelujah.
No secret— I like the idea of self-tracking and quantified living. My set up is less than ideal right now. Although I’ve experimented with capturing different datasets, I’ve never really managed to get the balance right between the effort required to establish and maintain a self-tracking discipline, and the actual return offered through points of learning derived from the data. Or to put it another way— I haven’t managed to satisfactorily reconcile the cost transforming captured data into meaningful information.
The Jawbone UP24 captures activity passively. That, and Moves on the iPhone are my longest running tracking efforts. Beyond those, I’m currently focusing on a set of Q&A style applications and intiatives, searching for correlations. Each of the following apps demands your attention at random points during your day, and asks you a series of questions.
Reporter (iPhone app)
You get to determine the questions you’re asked. The app itself offers some pretty attractive charts, and there are some interesting conduits to visualisations of the data you capture. It’s the most attractive app of the bunch, and the one I’ve had the longest, but the one I respond to least.
Mappiness (iPhone app)
Yes, another iPhone app, part of a research project at the London School of Economics that’s specifically interested in happiness in relation to specific places. There’s a useful set of charts and correlations built-in, and while they’re not as easy on the eye as Reporter’s, they’re probably more informative, at least out of the box. I’ve been a little more consistent with answering Mappiness whenever it calls for attention…
Track Your Happiness (web app)
I’ve just started using this one. It’s very reminiscent of Mappiness— some of the questions and categories are eerily similar, although attributed to a research project out of Harvard. That said, I like the variation in questions that are offered up. Although the base questions remain the same (Do you have to do what you’re doing right now? Do you WANT to do what you’re doing right now? Are you alone? And so on…) each call to respond throws up something slightly different, and this novelty makes it a little more interested to answer the call, pushing beyond the drudgery of capturing data and making each mini-interview an opportunity to pause and reflect.
Early days yet, but I’m really curious to see what I’ll learn from each of these, if I use them for long enough…
Exhibit B is coming to the Barbican, later in September.
I received a request to participate in a petition via Facebook against the work (insert love letter to social media here) on the basis that, with black people presented in cages for the benefit of an audience, the work was, at its core, racist.
I can appreciate the knee-jerk. And the parallels between this and the kind of “human zoos” of the past that this work seeks to make comment on. That said, the entire enterprise is predicated on that notion: making comment upon a way of viewing people of colour and otherness, and to challenging the thinking behind viewing “the other” through the lens of spectacle.
I wonder how many of the protesters took a stand against it before they knew what the work is about, and what its intentions are?
How many contemporary portrayals of “otherness” are essentially leveraged in a similar, spectacular way, made more suspect for the lack of interrogation or challenge? How much is swallowed without question because the cages and bars that once separated us from “the other” have been replaced by (television/computer) screens?
Rather than joining the call to protest about the work before its staged, I’m planning to experience it first, then attempt to decide for myself how “successful” it seems to be.
Oh descriptors, how I love you.
Also: desire to write a poem like this (the twinned audio-visual experience that this video offers). Hm.
Dear poet— this applies to you as well.
Protesters bearing witness in Ferguson, MO (Scott Olson/Getty, via Front Page)”>Rhizome | Rhizome Today)
“If I’m not getting anything out of self-tracking that’s worth the set up time, battery draining, and…”
I’ve been mentioning Quantified Self A LOT in recent professional development workshops, but I’m very aware of the fact that it’s hard to get into a deeper conversation about it with people who are new to the notion of self-tracking without a) a relatively easy pathway to collect meaningful data-points and b) a relatively easy way to visualise, correlate and learn from said data.
Yes, I sport a Jawbone UP for physical activity and sleep, and I use Moves on the iPhone primarily to map my movements day to day (with a little bit of added context for categories of movement— walking, running, cycling, driving etc). Moves, through some internet wizardry that I can’t even remember how I set up, sends data to Runkeeper, which loops back to my UP account. But that’s just physical activity. There’s an entire other layer of activity I’d like to be able to report on, but only if I can find the easiest meaningful way to do it…
“The thing about life in the real world is, all your hopes and dreams and desires and feelings are…”
Mmmm. Throwing fuel on the spark of a desire to experiment with sic-fi poetry and/or short fiction…
“so far, it has raised over 10 million dollars… and counting. my mom has spent every single day of…”
so far, it has raised over 10 million dollars… and counting. my mom has spent every single day of her life for the past three decades trying to get this kind of attention and funds for this disease.
i don’t care if it’s a stupid gimmick. i don’t care if people are just doing this because it’s trendy or because they want pats on the back. i don’t care if it’s the new harlem shake. i don’t care if for the rest of my life, when i talk about ALS, i have to say “you know, the ice bucket disease.”
please, everybody, please keep pouring buckets of ice over your heads. please keep donating money. please keep talking about this.”
I’ve seen a number of posts on the internet speaking out against the ice-bucket thing, and how the challenge has little to do with the disease. And then: this. Go read the whole post for the full story.
Attention is currency.
And: “…there’s value to playing around and seeing what I can do when I’m not trying to please. And there’s value to knowing that I’m utterly free, free as empty space, and I don’t have to be cautious, don’t have to be serious, don’t ever, ever have to be anybody else’s idea of poetry.”
- Jonathan Lethem, "The Ecstasy of Influence" (via monicawendel)
The REAL to-do list.
While I was travelling (Philadelphia—>NY—>Toronto), I fell into the habit of making diagrammatic journal entries on the iPad, through Paper. I’m currently using a cheap (but much loved) micro-fibre tipped stylus/pen, but if this continues, I might have to spring for one of those bluetooth enabled precision-tip things…
I’ve been reminded of Robert Montgomery's work today. (Thanks, Kathleenjoy). Gotta love the way work like this resurfaces through the internet feedback loop; tides of discovery that echo and rebound across the web. You discover something, file it away on your Tumblr blog or in your Pinboard account, and every now and again, someone in your network discovers it, independently, and summons it up again. I’m sure there’s an algorithm or theory that determines the proper amount of distance between nodes that codes for the best manifestation of this principle of echoed discovery. An alternative form of spaced repetition, perhaps?
I’d be really interested in doing something like this. Making poetry tangible; playing with installations, light, photography. Add to the someday/maybe file…
Having attended Nine Worlds this weekend, I should also start experimenting with sci-fi shorts. Do we still call it sci-fi, or is it all just speculative fiction now? Hm. I feel a map of should-dos coming on…