Wednesday, December 17, 2008
In printing, ink is built up, white on the computer is no ink, so the paper shows through, and the ink is built up to black, where the ink is really thick. This is kind of obvious, but is the basic rule for printing on different papers.
Some tips for printing on different paper:
1.If the paper/cardboard is too thick, the printer will not accept it. I had some left-over cardboard back cover of a sketchbook, and it was too thick. But, on the oppisite side, thinner paper will not be able to hold the ink and will crumple or sag. So choose ap paper that is thick, but not too thick.
2.thick paint does not hold ink well(see #1), to ink over it, you need small splotches where you can form the picture around the paint and keep it understandable(see#6), unless you like the shadow of ink.
3.I am also assuming thick layers of color pencil does the same thing, but I need to test it. Thin layers looks cool though(see #4).
4.paper already printed on only works if it is matte, not slick. Slick just makes the ink pool on top.
paper that is already dark doesn't work too well, as ink only adds darkness on top, stick with light to medium shades.
5.Also highly contrasting shade variation in patterns doesn't work too well, unless the pattern is small (see #2). But patterns with similar shades looks cool.
6.Check the color of the hue first, especially if it is gray, it looks kinda weird if you guess that the hue is yellowish, so you make the photo green only do find out the gray is actually a greenish-gray.
Next: printing on homemade paper.
Also, please do not redistribute pictures, because even though it is illegal as stated on the front page, these pictures are of my friends and even though I like these pictures, I am not sure they will. Also it would be creepy to find your pic on a random website, so don't do it.
Also, I will also be glad to have this semester over with, as the combined pressure of art and programming and the creative writing class has been crushing my spirit. And while I am going to be taking 5 hours less of classes next semester, i also have signed up for some 300 level classes in addition to the basic web class and writing for the web. Also I should get filling out that paperwork for the 2nd major before I run out of credits by taking too many humanities classes.
Writing at 2 am in the dark bedroom where my roommates are trying to sleep us not helping this blog any, is it?
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
I posted this on the internet not to show off on what a good job I did, but to be able to fulfill this essay's purpose, to convince people that they should be aware of space debris.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
ut this lack of care about the repercussions of space debris is not just in the past, but also fully in the present. In 2002, George W Bush withdrew the US from the1972 Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty with the Soviet Union, which prohibited placing weapons in space, to develop the “Brilliant Pebbles” proposed missile defense program, which consists of space-based lasers and interceptor missiles. (Primack, 2002) This step of the United States government only leads the US and the world much closer to the weaponization of space, the deterioration of the currently very lackluster space laws and agreements, not to mention putting at risk the now common use of orbital space satellites in modern-day life.
Monday, December 1, 2008
he main problem is that most people see space battles with the “Star Wars effect” in mind, from the classic science fiction series released in the 1970s, in which the targeted object explodes into nothingness, the matter making it up dissipating, leaving empty space left behind. An unreal scenario. An explosion in space creates thousands of pieces of refuse blasting out in every direction, into every orbit, putting all of the other space vessels at risk for tens to hundreds of years in the future. Another problem of sending things into space is that they might stay up there for a long period of time depending on the orbit, with some orbits lasting forever, while some will renter very quickly. In low earth orbit, if an object’s orbit is at less than 124 miles (just under usable low earth altitude), the orbit will only last a few days until reentering the atmosphere, if it is between 124 and 373 miles, it will have an orbit of a few years until reentry, if 372 to 497 miles, a few decades, and if greater than 497 miles, than it will remain orbiting for centuries. (NASA, 2005) And while the fragments of the Fengyun-1C had every low earth altitude orbit, the majority was in the 466 to 621 mile range, which expects that most of the debris will remain in orbit for a very long time.
Afterwards, it was leaked that the Chinese scientists in charge of studying the effects of the anti-ballistic missile test on the Fengyun-1C predicted that the huge explosion would happen, with disastrous effects, but the persons in charge of the test didn’t seem to take this into account. But the only real repercussion for China due to the incident was to cancel a debris discussion with the UN that has been scheduled beforehand, out of embarrassment. But that is the problem with the current space laws; they are easily circumnavigated or forgotten if a particular county feels like it is reasonable, because most do not see debris as a real problem, and those that do are hindered by the laxness and lack of enforcement of the space laws.
During the past week, I have read the picture of Dorian Gray. It was unsettling, more so than any other book that I have read, not only so because of the cover (in which the artist tried to recreate the portrait and so really requires a cover for the cover), but also the fact that the author (Oscar Wilde) is brilliant but seems morally flawed somehow. Or perhaps it is because he is trying to represent the time he was living in, because, as in all times, the world seems wrong, seems like it is lavishing in the moral and social crimes, existing for existence's sake. It was a constant fight with the words written in the book, as most books that dwell on the decadent only list the crimes, not explain the reasons for them. Harry's words not only spoke to Dorian, but to the reader, me, and his logical arguments were convincing in the fact that they are similar to or were beliefs that i held to at one time, but they were skewed, made immoral, as they were used to justify immoral things. But for all of that, logical, painfully sensible. This story was entirely realistic, entirely sane in the fact that there was no justice to it all. Is there ever justice? I wish i can someone to have a lengthy discussion about this, but there never is someone to discuss literature with. Novels certainly, popular culture certainly, but never literature.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
The Kessler syndrome, as discovered by Donald J Kessler, formerly head of the NASA orbital debris program office, posits that when the number of debris in orbit reach a critical mass, than it reaches a domino effect of destruction and debris called collisional cascading.
his is when the debris created from one collision or explosion spreads out and causes another collision which then creates more debris and so on, creating a steady growth of damaging space debris that greatly decreases the potential for orbital space use. This decrease of use would be due to the sheer amount of speeding, colliding debris that would destroy a spacecraft in a matter of months or days, or would require so much shielding that, except for the wealthiest of organizations, it would be economically impossible to launch spacecraft that size. Despite this worrying predicament, the required critical mass has been reached in most of the commonly used low earth orbits because of the almost unchecked growth of space debris, due to a lack of concern. The future of space use is too important to risk. The world has become so heavily dependent and benefited so much from artificial satellites in only 45 years, that allowing Earth’s orbit to become a debris cage for the Earth is a step backwards, away from the technological and space age. But it sometimes seems that the countries of the world are taking that step backwards by arranging to weaponize space.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
"Orbital debris poses a risk to continued reliable use of space-based services and operations and to the safety of persons and property in space and on Earth. The United States shall seek to minimize the creation of orbital debris by government and non-government operations in space in order to preserve the space environment for future generations."(USNSP, 2006)
The existing management of the problem of space debris is a combination of monitoring the larger debris and shielding orbital spacecraft from the smaller debris. The monitoring is done by The US Space Surveillance Network with a combination of satellites and ground-based radars, tracking debris larger than 3.9 inches in low earth orbit (124 vertical miles to 1240 vertical miles), where the majority of the satellites are, and larger than 3 feet in geosynchronous orbit (22,236 vertical miles), where there are approximately 300 satellites. The debris is tracked every day to predict and prevent collisions with spacecraft. Satellites and The International Space Station can be maneuvered out of the way of larger pieces of debris if given sufficient time to plan and implement beforehand and shielding can protect the spacecraft from the smallest debris (<.4 inches), even though it cannot be tracked. But even the smallest debris can ruin some satellites. For example, a single-tether satellite was rendered useless by a small particle severing the tether, losing its most recent information payload and requiring immediate action to stabilize it. But the middle range from .4 inches to 3.9 inches is classified as the debris “threat”, since debris that size can smash a satellite into more useless and dangerous debris, but technology to shield against that size of debris isn’t practically or economically feasible for most spacecraft, and it is too small to allow radars and other observational equipment to track it.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
So if these satellites are becoming so increasingly important, is there so much space trash? The space age is only 45 years old, but already the 680.4 tons of space debris make placing anything in space hazardous, especially the more fragile elements of satellites. But if the larger fragments, if objects the size of a softball are considered large, can demolish a satellite with one errant twist in an orbit, why are the smaller fragments, from the .4 and 3.9 inch range, are the ones that are classified as threats by the debris scientists. The smaller debris are almost untrackable and can do considerable damage, because they cannot be detected but can still mutilate spacecraft. But even the tiniest debris, the paint chips the size of a fingernail, are hazardous, for they can form clouds of speeding fragments that can strip an object with the destructive force of a sandblaster, corrupting the satellite elements.
Figure 3 was created by NASA and the European Space Agency (ESA)
But satellites are also relied upon for GPS, a staple in modern American navigating, civil planning and scientific research. GPS, or Global Positioning System (the nickname of the U.S. NAVSTAR Global Navigation Satellite System (GNSS)), which is made of a network of 24 satellites in geosynchronous orbit, an orbit that allows a satellite to return to exactly the same place in the sky at exactly the same time each day, which allows continually transmitted time and position information that, used in a system of triangulation, allow one to find a receiver/transmitter’s precise location anywhere across the world. The recent and quite complete success and dependence upon the United States’ NAVSTAR GNSS also has inspired other countries to launch their own GNSS networks such as The European Union’s Galileo Positioning system, China’s COMPASS, Japan’s QZSS, India’s IRNSS and the restoration of Russia’s GLONASS. GNSS, along with aerial pictures from weather or other earth-observing satellites, is responsible for the recent jump in information about the world and the infamous Google Maps and similar programs, and allowing for a precise time reference (atomic time) used in earth sciences and telecommunication networks, enhanced 911, more efficient search and rescue, in addition to the more precise and more rapid creation of geospatial information systems, which are used in navigation programs that tell you how far you might be to a place such as a restaurant or museum, for instance, but are used in various occupations such as: environmental impact evaluations, urban planning, criminology, history, sales and marketing.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Space debris is considered a problem because of the collisions between spacecraft, especially satellites, and debris. Figure 1 shows the distribution of observable debris (>3.9 inches) in Earth’s orbit, while Figure 2 shows the distribution of satellites in Earth’s orbit. This comparison shows the correlation between the most commonly used orbits and the amount of debris they possess. While spacecraft are made out of extremely durable material, the main problem lies in the large velocities that objects have in orbiting the earth. In space, a .4 inch aluminum sphere in an average orbital velocity of about 16.1 miles/sec has the equivalent velocity of a bowling ball moving at 300 miles/hour. (NASA, n.d.) So while a great deal of the mass of the satellite may be due to the shielding, it usually is not enough to protect against larger debris. And that debris has an especially dehabilitating effect on artificial satellites with their more delicate elements such as memory chips, solar cells and observational lenses that are easily corrupted. So a collision between debris and a satellite is always disastrous to both the information payload on the satellite and the usefulness of the satellite afterwards.
Figure 1 is from the NASA Orbital Debris Program Office Education Package (2005)
Figure 2 is from NASA’s J-Track 3-D (November 16, 2008.) (please click to enlarge)
Friday, November 21, 2008
Future Space Use of Artificial Satellites
The space around Earth is empty, isn’t it? Just occupied by the moon, a few comets and satellites, right? But the earth’s orbit has over 680.4 tons (3 million kilograms) of space debris, unusable man-made material speeding in Earth’s orbits; space “junk” made up of not only items accidentally lost during space missions, such as a glove lost on the first American spacewalk, a camera lost near the spacecraft Gemini 10 and so forth, but also discarded rocket stages, dead satellites and other abandoned spacecraft that are beyond their usefulness but cannot be sent back to earth (Tufte, 1990). But much of the debris is made up of the shattered fragments of such deserted spacecraft, due to collisions with other debris or normal wear and tear of use. For example, all 31 of the nuclear-powered Radar Ocean Reconnaissance satellites (RORSATs), launched from 1967 to 1988 by the Soviet Union, still orbit the Earth unused, but, due to a construction error they create a much bigger problem. 16 of the satellites leak liquid sodium-potassium reactor coolant, making tens of thousands of coolant droplets speeding around after the abandoned satellites, making the orbit extremely hazardous to any human use. But while the RORSAT problem is unique, the fact of debris has become commonplace. After 45 years of space use, there are known to be 17,000 objects larger than 3.9 inches in orbit, which is confirmed by debris monitoring by the US and other countries. But the projected amount of objects between .4 and 3.9 inches in diameter is greater than 200,000, and the numbers of particles smaller than .4 inches, such as paint flakes and metal splinters, probably exceed 10,000,000. (Stansbury, 2005) This is in addition to thousands of orbital satellites that currently have considerable use.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Broad, W. (2007, February 6). Orbiting Junk, Once a Nuisance, Is Now a Threat. Retrieved April 11, 2008,
Crowther, R. (2002) "Space Junk-Protecting Space for Future Generations (Policy Forum: Space Science). (Statistical Data Included)."[Electronic version] Science 296.
David, L. (2004) . Havoc in the Heavens: Soviet-Era Satellite's Leaky Reactor's Lethal Legacy Retrieved April 11, 2008, from Space News Website.
David, L. (2003)"Tossed in Space (Between the Lines). (Debris in Outer Space)." [Electronic Version] Foreign Policy
De Selding, P. (2004) FCC Enters Orbital Debris Debate. Retrieved April 12, 2008, from the Space News Website
Grinberg, M. (2007) "Risk: the Final Frontier. (FOREFRONT) (Dealing with Orbital Debris)." [Electronic version] Risk Management4.
Inter-Agency Space Debris Coordination Committee. (2007) IADC Space Debris Mitigation Guidelines. Retrieved March, 21 2008.
Japan. (2003) Hyper Velocity Impact Test of Kibo's Shield. Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency. Retrieved on March 15, 2008.
NASA. (2008)"Monthly Number of Catalogued Objects in Earth Orbit by Object Type." Chart. Orbital Debris Quarterly News. Retrieved March 15, 2008, from The NASA Orbital Debris Program Office Website
NASA "Chinese Anti-Satellite Test Creates Most Severe Orbital Debris Cloud in History." (2007) Orbital Debris Quarterly News. Retrieved March 15, 2008.
NASA. (2008) "Two Minor Fragmentations End Worst Debris Year Ever." Orbital Debris Quarterly News Retrieved March 15, 2008.
NASA Johnson Space Center Orbital Debris Program Office. Orbital Debris Education Package. (2005). Retrieved March 25, 2008, from
NASA. (2007)"United States Adopts Space Debris Mitigation Guidelines." Orbital Debris Quarterly News. Retrieved March 15, 2008.
Primack, J. (2002)"Pelted by Paint, Downed by Debris: Missile Defenses Will Put Valuable Satellites At Even Greater Risk (Opinion)."[Electronic version] Bulletin of Atomic Scientists 58
Space law. (2008). In Encyclopædia Britannica Online. Retrieved March 16, 2008.
"Space Law: Frequently Asked Questions." (2006) Retrieved March 15, 2008 from the United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs Website.
Stansbery, E."Orbital Debris Frequently Asked Questions."(2005) NASA Orbital Debris Program Office. Retrieved March 15, 2008.
Taggart, S. (2001) Australians Take Mir Deorbit Risks in Stride. Retrieved April 12, 2008, from the Space News Website.
Taku Otsuka (Director).Fact Meets Fiction: a Discussion with NASA's Orbital Debris Program Office Part One. (2005) [Motion Picture]. Japan/United States: Bandai Entertainment INC.
Walls, B. (2007) NASA’s J-Track 3-D [Computer software]. NASA.
"What is Orbital Debris?" (2005) Center for Orbital and Reentry Debris Studies. From Retrieved March 15, 2008, from The Aerospace Corporation Website.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
While the wiki article is through, it does not cover the fact that modernism "was coming to grips with visual issues in art." It was not just a reaction to WWII (though it certainly did include that) or a series of gimmicks, but there were "deep pictorial issues involved."
How so? Art is a language of expression, and until modernism, the language was fairly strict, the majority of art created was representational. This is not to say that art itself hadn't been headed in this direction for some time, because that certainly was not the case. Modernism was both the logical conclusion and unexpected explosion of the language of art into. . . I am not sure what it is now, communication unfettered from language? or has it been transformed into a language so that it can be understood by everyone?
(I am just in art school, so it seems like a language, a lot of rules and grammar, but I know that once you know the rules, you can understand the base form of what other people see and break that form into tiny little bits. You can break rules consciously and use them knowingly, each appropriate to your message. It makes your communication a message to others, other than a speech.
But that doesn't mean I like learning grammar.)
I don't know, really. I have big dreams of the the world should be, from the stories other people tell, but finding other people to communicate this to who will listen/who see the same is difficult, at least with people my age (who, mainly, have never thought about this at all). I suppose perhaps, I am not communicating well enough for something like this.
"I think perhaps the most important problem is that we are trying to [communicate] the fundamental workings of the universe via a language devised for telling one another when the best fruit is." (Terry Pratchett)
But going back to the topic of art, i have some notes of which have caused me to think more throughly about the possibilities of what art can be.
Art is (any combination of the below):
-an idea merged with the canvas, it is one entity
-an object in a world of objects, all interacting with one another-one term in a larger space (this is the view of minimalism, rather than modernism, and not held by Fried, but I had to disagree with him on this point)
-an experience ( the opinion the Fried has is that "theatricality" is "too easy", and this i do agree with, but i feel that it does not make it any less true)
-relational- the different relations/interactions of the objects within the art create the meaning
-expressive-it has a meaning (i believe that if there is no meaning, it is not art. There are many things that look like art that are not art. I am ashamed that I have done so and probably will continue to do so in the future. And all in the name of lucre)
-authority/majesty on a canvas
-ease of gesture
-tensity-is there a conflict?
-meaningful to itself- all meaning it has is contained in it/self-sufficient (this is the view of modernism, it is when the painting has no interaction with the viewer, it has a feeling of voyeurism, that the figures are not acting for the viewer's benefit)
Thursday, November 6, 2008
It is because I update this when I stay up until 4 am, ignoring homework and unable to tear myself away from the internet. (and I have read all the current webcomic updates of the ones I love)
These items are just things I have previously written or free thought writing and photos from my extensive personal photo gallery. (I take a lot of photos, it has kind of replaced my drawing journal, even though it shouldn't have, because I will never be an animator at this rate, and even though I may never be, I cannot bear to give that dream up just yet.)
I may just post photos in the future, or just write stuff for the photos. Or just look for a job instead. Whichever.
For weeks it blared and bugled, trumpeted and sounded, trying to communicate with them, trying to establish a friendship it so desperately wanted. But the other colors were an insular group with inflexible ideas of music, and they quickly dismissed Red's attempts at communication as the work of an amateur. They insulted and mocked him, thinking of themselves as experts and critics of their field.
“What is that din? It doesn't sound like it comes from any real color.”
“More like the sad leavings of a child's finger paints.”
“It sounds like it comes from the brownishgrey lump of stickiness that lies in the bottom of the paintbox for years, becaus-
“We understood what you meant the first time.”
“- it is so nasty looking”
But, in truth, they couldn't understand why Red was relentless in his work. So they “suffered” through Red's compositions day in and day out. And while they didn't accept his work as professional, they couldn't help but to use some pieces of his arrangements, some of the ways he liked to place loud and soft sections together, just due to the fact that they heard him playing constantly for weeks. And unknowingly, protestingly (if they did know), all of the other colors began to adopt some of Red's style on their own compositions.
But as the weeks went by with no reply from the others, Red's songs became full of doubt as it slowly began to suspect that its efforts were futile. Eventually, a tremor of insecurity crawled through its subconscious, sliming in and through the senses with a trail of wavering dreams. Red tried to brush it out of its consciousness. It failed. This insecurity was reflected in his work as a gradual reticent sound quality, a gradual quieting of volume as Red tried to convince itself that its dream was worthwhile.
Red hadn't heard their replies because he was so relentless in his own efforts. Due to the combination of the distance separating the two groups and the sheer volume of it's playing, Red was rendered deaf to their replies. So Red wasn't dissuaded by the casual cruelty of his wish-friends, despite of the doubt, it still maintained a desire to become friends with them.
As Red's playing became quieter and quieter, the other colors became filled with glee. They had formed a plan to have Red “suffer” as much as they had, and it was finally time to implement their great plan. They played, trumpeted, bugled and blared. It was extremely loud, loud enough that it caused Red to finally stop playing.
As Red listened, it quickly became aware that these songs piercing over to his lonely stretch of canvas echoed its own melodies, its own arrangements of tone and tempo, but with alterations. And even though it was not exactly to its taste, Red couldn't help but notice how arresting it was. When Red understood this collaboration with his wish-now-for-real-friends, the tremors died. It had fulfilled his dream, it had made friends with the far away colors, it had helped to create a beautiful composition. Red unfalteringly began to play again, its music now filled with an exuberant joy in success.
Another allegory, I suppose.
Last night I dreamed of you
I dreamt that you gunned down twelve police officers
in a spray of anger and hate
because you couldn't live anymore.
You hated the world for what it had done to you.
You hated civilization
You hated what I had done to you.
I was the one at fault.
But I had to try to defend you against the town, against the state
I had to testify that you would not do that sort of thing
while I doubted.
While I lied.
After I told you all of this on the phone.
You just laughed.
But I am still terrified.
I didn't stop loving you, you know.
I just. . . .
I don't know why I did those things.
I was afraid.
and I blamed you.
People like you and I meet
Of course we would.
Learning the future
of the world.
You and I are the same today and tomorrow. . .
But will time and experience change us?
How can I know?
I do not know myself,
or even you.
I wish it would be different.
Every time I see you, I want to tell you that you are beautiful.
Because, sometimes,in class, it is not enough
to only sit and think of you.
Is it odd that I always crush on people in the programming classrooms?
But they are always so beautiful.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Chubby Lumpkins' once shining coat and flashing horn were dull now. He no longer shimmered through the trees and bushes of his home, no longer shone as he sat under the trees, no longer seemed like a ray of sunlight as he drank from the crystalline ponds and rivers of his home.
Chubby Lumpkins, as his name implied, was a rotund unicorn, an animal of wide girth. He wasn't born this way, oh no, when he was small he played as cheerfully and as nimbly as his other unicorn friends. But as he grew older, he played and ran less and less, slept and dreamed more and more. He loved to sleep, that Chubby Lumpkins, dreaming of beautiful princess who would brush his fur, comb his mane, and they would be the most beautiful friends all the other unicorns had ever seen. They would be jealous of his beauty and friendship. And he dreamt on.
One day while wandering, thinking the same thoughts he always thought, he went to drink from his favorite pond that he always drank from. He stretched out his neck to drink, filled with his thirst, and he suddenly saw an odd animal reflected in the waters. It was a grotesque pale horse-animal, drab and fat, balanced on stick-thin legs. He snapped his head back, surprised at the appearance of this hideous creature in his forest. But when the animal turned out to be himself, the one called Chubby Lumpkins, he was terrified. Had he been cursed, could unicorns be cursed? What had happened to him? What had happened to him?
Chubby Lumpkins, was thrown into a deep depression. He was no longer beautiful (had he ever been beautiful?); he no longer wanted to be seen. He hid in the deep thickets of the forest. He no longer dreamed of his elaborate fantasy, but dreamed of loneliness. No princess would want to brush his fur and comb his tail now. No princess would want to be friends with a unicorn such as he. He mourned for the life that he had lost.
He stayed there for many months, occasionally sneaking out under the cover of night to grab a few mouthfuls of nettles and water from the fast-moving streams. He did not want to see his reflection ever again. But the grass grew, the snows melted, and while Chubby Lumpkins now noticed it, he still could not contain his despair, still driven to seeing the mocking illusions of his dreams. He could not give up those dreams, they were all he had ever had.
So when he saw a maiden sitting on the banks of the river, drinking from his favorite pond, sleeping under his trees, he dismissed them as delusions and passed on. Were they all delusions, though? Unicorns are rare creatures, magical and full of a certain power. Even the broken-hearted Chubby Lumpkins had those aspects still. Even if he couldn't see them, there were others who did and they sought him out.
Perhaps Chubby Lumpkins was caught by them, perhaps he left his forest, driven to seek new lands like he sought a new self; perhaps he found a princess to comb his hair and braid his tail and brush him until he shone; perhaps he exercised and became the unicorn he dreamed of being. All I know is that when the trees started to bloom, filling the air with their love, I never saw Chubby again.
I never did.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
To me, this query seemed the kind of bait and switch question so commonly used in classrooms everywhere. What is the cubed root of nine? What is the function of memory in a computer? What is the color of George Washington's white horse? The kind of question where it at first, seemed difficult but when was pondered, was laughably obvious. My classmates were thoughtfully silent, however.
The meaning of art, I thought, had an answer, a logical pathway paved by what was already known and theorized about art. If art reflected life, as proposed by the classical masters; if art reflected the artist, as proposed by the contemporaries; if art only reflected the audience, as proposed by Dadaists, than what was art all in all? I had concluded long before this moment in time, that if all of those theories proposed were all valid, than everything was art; everything is art, every thought, every note, every conversation, every leaf and beam of sunlight, every thing.
I was dismissive, then, about the usefulness of this discussion in my education. If this class did not further my education,then, perhaps, I was not the one being taught.; and so could just watch the expressions of the others as they came to the meaning, and, voyeur-like, partake of the joy of discovery. But when the discussion raged on past the ten minute mark, I questioned myself.
They raised questions about the different aspects of art: the idea, the expression, the money. They talked about commissions, classical painters, Dadaism, the modern philosophy of art and what they had heard from others. But for all of this time and questioning, all the people in the classroom had a hesitancy about their voices. They seemed to be questioning the idea within themselves like it was the first time. Maybe it was the first time for many or all of them, an unwelcome revelation.
I became filled with a slowly overwhelming urge to speak out my passionate philosophy. I wanted them to stop questioning. I wanted to know why this idea so based upon a logic was so foreign to them. I wanted to feel like my idea, which seemed so sensible until now, was not the looming revolution. This felt purely selfish, to bring upon them this strange idea, but I couldn't constrain myself.
I raised my hand to be called upon for an opinion. I kept it raised at every opportunity. I left it laid upon my head, to reach the air faster. I switched hands when my arm became tired. I was impatient to be called, so when the professor said “One last opinion before we leave,” I hoped I would finally be called, finally have everyone understand something at least. I hoped.
But another girl whose had had caught the professor's attention, even though mine had been raised all this time, was called upon. I do not remember her remarks in the growing murmur of people packing, and perhaps mine would have been remembered the sameby others. I was dejected all the same, I had given up my moment to connect to them and no time would have been as perfect as that time, perhaps my philosophy was wrong, perhaps if it was right, it would have been heard.. I couldn't even grudge the energy to speak to my professor about the idea I hadn't been able to share, that he could at least, hear. So I kept in within my now questioning self and left for home.
This I made for my creative writing class two weeks ago about an experience I had the week before. Hopefully this didn't come away as sounding too uptight or superior, I really wasn't, it was mainly just an alienating experience. . . .
I have some older stuff, but as I cannot access it, (curse you, Microsoft and your proprietary formats) it is going to have to wait. Which I don't know if you can, because I wrote this awesome. It is a fascinating topic, despite what you may think.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Sunday, August 3, 2008
I am only going to travail you with my tortured thoughts and prose on Mondays, introducing the theme for the week (so you can skip that day if you want).
-Tuesday I am going to review a book, or at least the part of the book I finished so far. August 6, (this coming Tuesday) I going to explain my conclusions of Joseph Campbell's Flight of the Wild Gander, in which he explores the use of myths and fairy tales on people's understanding of the spiritual and existential. It's pretty cool, nonetheless.
-Wednesday is about living and having fun cheaper and more "green"(sometimes). This coming Wednesday involves the meaning behind this decision(because, believe it or not, I don't actually like that term).
-Thursday is an open day, in which I am going to write about whatever is fun.
-Friday is about creating things, art, crafts, food, etc.This Friday, I will chronicle how to make paper and a paper mould. This is with the addition of a link to a free, legal song EVERY day.
So hopefully, this will not be too stressful to me, or too boring for you, and I will stick to this schedule this time. Thanks for reading. :D And here is the rest of it.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
But the reason for the large gap was a doubting my worth, a doubting of who I was and
why I even wanted to be a creator of anything in the first place. Did I do it for the sheer need, for fame or money? No, for a much smaller and paltry purpose, I create because I want love and acceptance. I doubted how I had been living my life. I had finally become accepted, I had friends, a boyfriend who loved me and I him, a home, that was unlike my family home. As it turns out, I create only in the throes of deepest turmoil, of extreme loneliness. And this is all rather cliche, I'm aware, but. . . I think it is the truth.
People make changes, do things in their life for different reasons, they doubt for noble and (seeming) meaningless things, but for whatever reason they do, it doesn't makes their feelings less real, less painful or pleasurable.
I questioned my life once, not in the throes of emotion, making a permanent solution to a temporary problem, but questioning whether it would be better for me to die early rather than suffer a seeming eternity of mediocrity. Oh yes, the experiences would most likely be better for me, but was it worth the cost of boredom? So I resolved to die. I would not hurt myself, because that is a desecration, but to waste away, to neglect myself, since I was half-there already, to just continue to journey, to isolate myself and create with my dying sentiments. It was pure romantic nonsense, and the next evening I couldn't keep myself to my inward pledge, since it was awfully silly. But it didn't make my self-pain any less painful, any less a lesson. I had reneged my promise to the princess of the wrong kingdom when I had become lost in my quest for happiness. I wished I could have kept my honor, but I desired my life over my nobility. After logical thought, I realized I did not want to be endlessly tilting with the futile windmills of death for all eternity, endlessly missing out on the summer blockbusters that everyone is going to be talking about when you go back to school.
"I got married and raised a family" "I thought I was going to grow up to be a bachelor all of my life, but then I found her." "I taught children how to think, you to reason and make good decisions" "I devoted my life to helping the less fortunate find jobs and contribute to their happiness." "I killed myself when I was almost 20 in a fit of pique, of the questioning that we are all subject to when we are in the company of ourselves"
I must have been emotional then, not to see the logic. It would definitely not be better for me to die at this time, and maybe I should suffer through the tedium for now, suffer through it like I have done all my life, by creating my own floating cloud-castles and only coming down to resupply for food and toilet paper.
It is not a good living, it makes you distant from other people, cold , cynical and bored with the guided life that everyone else leads. Get up early in the morning, go to work/school, do the tasks assigned, go home, do more tasks, keep up with the Johnsons, follow society's rules, go to sleep and escape from it all until you are woken by the alarm. It sounds like I'm going through a mid-life crisis or something, or I am a teen-ager. Maybe I am both. Maybe also, rebelling gets old. It is self-centered and selfish, a bubble only for you. There is only the lone rebel.
Those packs of teen "rebels without a clue" who are disdained because they rebel in self-contained cliques who tend to dissipate, because while the concept is quite the high school ideal, it collapses because high school ideal is also a concept.
And so I stopped rebelling all this time, I quite happily gave up selfish pride to become happy for once in my life. But now that happiness is empty and soaked in the color of regret and soul-sickness. So while I desire to be filled with love once again, to be normal, I cannot. Maybe it is fated that my life will be filled with this loneliness and distance. And maybe. . . I should learn to be happy with myself and not exagggerate my differences to make myself seem more important in my own eyes. But I suppose I must suffer through it for my own-wellbeing.