26.10.09
What makes all of the wild things happy?
Using that whole Facebook thing for work-related communication has been a terrifying test of focus but today proved a successful tab to my Firefox window because not only did I step into some pleasant lunch plans through the illustrious chat function, I was in position to stumble over this column of inspirational clarity- thanks of course to Father Michael. At first I was feeding my recent addiction to A N Y T H I N G involving "Where the Wild Things Are" but as I indulged my momentary obsession, I was extremely grateful that the work day was coming to a close, allowing me to dig into these ideas and come to terms with some of the Wild Things inside of myself.
Though I feel like Paul Bloom's idea that our multiple selves are fighting for control is a little more competitive than what I'm pretty sure is happening inside my head- the cross-situational instability caused by a subconscious collision of desires is an incendiary source of indecision and remorse. Understanding the cause of anything bad makes us think we can fix it, but as soon as I began to list the different ways I could convince the multiple selves to get along, they start fighting about how. This paradox of Wild Things helps us understand that there is no way to equalize their desires, we just have to keep loving with all of our hearts and creating with all of our abilities- even when they're acting up.
Both of my parents are crafty people in completely different ways- my dad builds boats in his spare time, while my mom assembles the most insane collection of scrapbooks known to man. I'm thankful that I they past their creative tendencies to your truly because I have discovered so many outlets where all of the wild things inside of me can be silenced by the tedium of producing.
Though I feel like Paul Bloom's idea that our multiple selves are fighting for control is a little more competitive than what I'm pretty sure is happening inside my head- the cross-situational instability caused by a subconscious collision of desires is an incendiary source of indecision and remorse. Understanding the cause of anything bad makes us think we can fix it, but as soon as I began to list the different ways I could convince the multiple selves to get along, they start fighting about how. This paradox of Wild Things helps us understand that there is no way to equalize their desires, we just have to keep loving with all of our hearts and creating with all of our abilities- even when they're acting up.
Both of my parents are crafty people in completely different ways- my dad builds boats in his spare time, while my mom assembles the most insane collection of scrapbooks known to man. I'm thankful that I they past their creative tendencies to your truly because I have discovered so many outlets where all of the wild things inside of me can be silenced by the tedium of producing.
Berlin does Tetris.
This theme song to this is going to be stuck in my head all day.
Troubadours are coming; troubadours are here, their world is fire, their sound is a spear.
Berlin Block Tetris from Sergej Hein on Vimeo.
Troubadours are coming; troubadours are here, their world is fire, their sound is a spear.
22.10.09
NC News
It gets harder and harder to become homesick for my close, but oh-so-far homestate of North Carolina when I keep stumbling across news stories that make N Carolinians seem afraid of the swine flu vaccine (still funny), or crazy enough to bring a partially eaten pork chop to the local news station to show them it looks like rudolph!
20.10.09
Wild Things Fort = Belgian Waffle
The genius of Spike Jonze is officially immortalized in "Where the Wild Things Are" film and I must insist that you experience your own inevitably glorious adventure. And when you embark on this journey, notice the uncanny resemblance that the Wild Things' fort has to the Uchronia sculpture at the 2006 Burning Man:
19.10.09
Catching Up
this H1N1 kid will forever brighten my day
Electronic music lab for dummies. Its near impossible for any tunes created with this upgraded version of this old favorite to sound bad. Using the tone matrix to see what small pixled images sound like is a happy two-person activity. I would say its magic, but that would be a lie, its aural science.
Kim Jung-il's fashion sense is a little wack, but fooling an old farmer into selling his prize rabbits to be cooked at said Premier's b-day partay by telling him they would be bred to feed starving North Koreans is just plain tasteless.
Interactive art makes me wish I could man up and learn Max again, furreal this time. When I do, I'll get in touch with David Tinapple, wherever he is.
Boxes are good.
I like keeping my eye on what mega-corporations are doing for society, because let's be real- we can't change the world without them. Sustainable packaging and Wal Mart (not good enough)
Eleven questions to ask before you design, specify or buy anything:
- Do we need it? Can we live without it?
- Is the project designed to minimize waste?
- Can it be smaller, lighter or made from fewer materials?
- Is it designed to be durable or multi-functional?
- Does it use renewable resources?
- Is reuse practical and encouraged?
- Are the product and packaging refillable, recyclable or repairable?
- Is it made with post-consumer recycled or reclaimed materials and how much?
- Are the materials available in a less toxic form? Can it be made with less toxic materials?
- Is it available from a socially and environmentally responsible company?
- Is it made locally?
Inspiration from my past self.
It doesn't always work properly, but I use futureme.org to remind me of life goals, the bigger picture, and important insights. During March of 2008, several aspects of life and living were put into perspective for myself and thousands of others in the wake Eve Carson's death. Though it was unfathomably tragic, it bore a unique chain of inspirational events, conversations and ideals that so many people touched continue to exude.
After getting increasingly frustrated by instances of squandered talent, the following words from Eve's father couldn't have come to me at a better time as a painfully powerful reminder that our generation can and will change the world for the better. Our parents are counting on us, and Eve believes in us.
The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on Tuesday, March 18, 2008, and sent via FutureMe.org
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I've always cherished the look Eve greeted me with as I held her in the delivery room. She was wide-awake, and she sweetly peered right into my eyes with such pleasure - as if saying thanks and "I'm so glad to be here now, Dad." A specialist would say it was a reaction to the newness or just being unadjusted to the hospital birthing room, but please believe me, something was just a touch different about Eve from birth.
Every parent knows how special their child can be. We know from our own lives that growth and growing up are best continued over a lifetime. But there seems to be a moment early on, when a parent can look at their child and know that they've got the building blocks and the character for a good life. I feel blessed because I had that moment with both of my loving children at early ages. I call it my Papua New Guinea moment - when, should your child be lost upon a distant shore and even in a different culture, that child would grow up into a fine, helpful, caring person.
The senseless murder of my sweet, sweet Eve is sadness defined, unfathomable and bottomless, but so appreciatively interrupted by each friend or family member who shares our grief.
Yesterday, a red-tailed hawk glided effortlessly close to my car as I drove from my mother's home. It touched more deeply than normal. To me, these moments with nature represent a circle of everlasting life, but so also, do the friends of Eve and Andrew - and the babies of relatives and neighbors and friends.
The irony of Eve's murder is that she, along with these blessed friends and fellow students, are the ones who can solve the most pressing problems of this time. Please don't attribute this to hyperbole or relate it to a father's sadness. I see a stunningly beautiful convergence of talent and caring in this, our children's, generation. It is the most fantastic realization.
I believe that these kids, along with their peers around the globe, can reach reasoned solutions for mitigating violence and tackling many of the inequities of poverty, prejudice, inadequate health care and under-education. This is no pie-in-the-sky wish! These kids are smart! They're so capable.
They're more productive because they collaborate and communicate like no generation before them. And what is even more wonderful is their generosity. Isn't that tremendous?
There are needs now, and there are reasons for and solutions to those needs. Those dilemmas that keep getting shuffled along by our generation will gain solutions from the student sitting near you, your friends' sons and daughters or the young mentored student from another place.
But I must tell you - even with an aching heart, and yet with such hope and love - that the friends of Eve, and their generation, will not be denied. They've got miles to go, and missions to keep, and we will be so much better for their undaunted perseverance!
May God bless each one of you.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After getting increasingly frustrated by instances of squandered talent, the following words from Eve's father couldn't have come to me at a better time as a painfully powerful reminder that our generation can and will change the world for the better. Our parents are counting on us, and Eve believes in us.
The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on Tuesday, March 18, 2008, and sent via FutureMe.org
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I've always cherished the look Eve greeted me with as I held her in the delivery room. She was wide-awake, and she sweetly peered right into my eyes with such pleasure - as if saying thanks and "I'm so glad to be here now, Dad." A specialist would say it was a reaction to the newness or just being unadjusted to the hospital birthing room, but please believe me, something was just a touch different about Eve from birth.
Every parent knows how special their child can be. We know from our own lives that growth and growing up are best continued over a lifetime. But there seems to be a moment early on, when a parent can look at their child and know that they've got the building blocks and the character for a good life. I feel blessed because I had that moment with both of my loving children at early ages. I call it my Papua New Guinea moment - when, should your child be lost upon a distant shore and even in a different culture, that child would grow up into a fine, helpful, caring person.
The senseless murder of my sweet, sweet Eve is sadness defined, unfathomable and bottomless, but so appreciatively interrupted by each friend or family member who shares our grief.
Yesterday, a red-tailed hawk glided effortlessly close to my car as I drove from my mother's home. It touched more deeply than normal. To me, these moments with nature represent a circle of everlasting life, but so also, do the friends of Eve and Andrew - and the babies of relatives and neighbors and friends.
The irony of Eve's murder is that she, along with these blessed friends and fellow students, are the ones who can solve the most pressing problems of this time. Please don't attribute this to hyperbole or relate it to a father's sadness. I see a stunningly beautiful convergence of talent and caring in this, our children's, generation. It is the most fantastic realization.
I believe that these kids, along with their peers around the globe, can reach reasoned solutions for mitigating violence and tackling many of the inequities of poverty, prejudice, inadequate health care and under-education. This is no pie-in-the-sky wish! These kids are smart! They're so capable.
They're more productive because they collaborate and communicate like no generation before them. And what is even more wonderful is their generosity. Isn't that tremendous?
There are needs now, and there are reasons for and solutions to those needs. Those dilemmas that keep getting shuffled along by our generation will gain solutions from the student sitting near you, your friends' sons and daughters or the young mentored student from another place.
But I must tell you - even with an aching heart, and yet with such hope and love - that the friends of Eve, and their generation, will not be denied. They've got miles to go, and missions to keep, and we will be so much better for their undaunted perseverance!
May God bless each one of you.
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