I've moved my blog to WP: idefiningi.wordpress.com
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
March 15, 2015
spontaneous (adj.)
Always
For those who know me, know me to be a pretty "busy" person. My calendar is usually packed at least a week ahead, filled with a mix of work and play, exercise, friends, family, chores, extracurriculars (because those still exist even when you work a 9-5 right?), etc. Me-time, and you-time, and us-time. It's all in there.
Those who know me better, know why I don't love the word "busy." It makes it seem like I'm not enjoying it, like I haven't made enough time for other (read: better, more important) things; as though I haven't chosen any of it. But, I truly believe that what we make time for should be what we believe in. And I think my OCD planning gets me living true to that for the most part.
My calendar fuels me; it sets me in motion - whatever my pace - making me feel safe in the comfort of the rails of my plan, moving steadily forward with stops along the way. Sometimes it's a short visit, sometimes an extended stay; and sometimes it can be just a brief glance out the window; but nonetheless, I anticipate it in some way.
I even leave room for "spontaneity" by clearing my calendar! I guess you could say, I plan for the unexpected. I don't jump out of the train very often, but when I do, I've mentally prepared to leave that as an option. Some would say this nullifies the spontaneity, as you shouldn't really "plan" to be spontaneous, but I beg to differ. In some ways, I think I'm always acting spontaneously - and this kind of proves it:
I can't doing something 'out of the blue' without being inspired, moved, or propelled by an outside source, something external to you that made you change your course. And ideally, we should always be taking in the world to help us decide how to fit in it; mapping it out, then choosing a way. Sometimes we take the fork, and sometimes we take a knife to our plans and have to reconfigure the journey. But, in either case, we should be feasting on life with a hungry heart.
Sure, sometimes we may not want to be somewhere, or we'd rather be somewhere else; but in the end, we've still decided it to go about it that way; we've chosen a track and stuck to the course. If you're good at it, this shouldn't bother you.
Today
The day was like most other Saturdays, with a yoga class thrown in because I was feeling this "funky" feeling and wanted to, as one friend called it, "let yoga get the itchy feeling out!" I tricked myself into thinking power yoga would help me power through this feeling, and after a few hours of vegging out after class, I peeled myself off of my mom's couch and tried to force myself out; but it just didn't jive.
See, at the back of my mind, I didn't really plan to do anything tonight - or rather, I planned to do nothing. Yet, I wasn't comfortable with this idea of "staying in on a Saturday night." I let habit and this imaginary pressure get to me, not forgiving or excusing myself for not being in the mood for any of the otherwise fantastic options I feel grateful to have had tonight; perhaps a bit too melancholy for a night out, or a bit "socially-drained" after an epic and very stimulating night of square dancing the night before (more on this later), something about today had me a seeking seclusion for shelter.
For me, to function at my best, I need to prepare myself for what's coming so I can set myself in the right 'mode'. Tonight though, I totally failed at that. My "I-wanna-be-alone" trigger got muted by "it's Saturday night!" and I found myself standing at the bar about to meet my friends, begrudgingly wanting to escape back to my apartment. I derailed a bit, I guess you could say.
I initially thought I totally lamed out. After an awkward hello and goodbye with my friends (likely interpreted as rude or selfish unfortunately - sorry), I went home. To do nothing "on a Saturday." Until that is, I did something I didn't plan to: write. And now I'm back on course, and it feels allllllright.
And it's Sunday already.
For those who know me, know me to be a pretty "busy" person. My calendar is usually packed at least a week ahead, filled with a mix of work and play, exercise, friends, family, chores, extracurriculars (because those still exist even when you work a 9-5 right?), etc. Me-time, and you-time, and us-time. It's all in there.
Those who know me better, know why I don't love the word "busy." It makes it seem like I'm not enjoying it, like I haven't made enough time for other (read: better, more important) things; as though I haven't chosen any of it. But, I truly believe that what we make time for should be what we believe in. And I think my OCD planning gets me living true to that for the most part.My calendar fuels me; it sets me in motion - whatever my pace - making me feel safe in the comfort of the rails of my plan, moving steadily forward with stops along the way. Sometimes it's a short visit, sometimes an extended stay; and sometimes it can be just a brief glance out the window; but nonetheless, I anticipate it in some way.
I even leave room for "spontaneity" by clearing my calendar! I guess you could say, I plan for the unexpected. I don't jump out of the train very often, but when I do, I've mentally prepared to leave that as an option. Some would say this nullifies the spontaneity, as you shouldn't really "plan" to be spontaneous, but I beg to differ. In some ways, I think I'm always acting spontaneously - and this kind of proves it:
We should always strive to be driven by choice. (I posit the 1650s addition had more to do with ((psuedo-)science than philosophy).
- spontaneous (adj.)
- 1650s, "occurring without external stimulus," from Late Latin "willing, of one's free will"
I can't doing something 'out of the blue' without being inspired, moved, or propelled by an outside source, something external to you that made you change your course. And ideally, we should always be taking in the world to help us decide how to fit in it; mapping it out, then choosing a way. Sometimes we take the fork, and sometimes we take a knife to our plans and have to reconfigure the journey. But, in either case, we should be feasting on life with a hungry heart.Sure, sometimes we may not want to be somewhere, or we'd rather be somewhere else; but in the end, we've still decided it to go about it that way; we've chosen a track and stuck to the course. If you're good at it, this shouldn't bother you.Today
The day was like most other Saturdays, with a yoga class thrown in because I was feeling this "funky" feeling and wanted to, as one friend called it, "let yoga get the itchy feeling out!" I tricked myself into thinking power yoga would help me power through this feeling, and after a few hours of vegging out after class, I peeled myself off of my mom's couch and tried to force myself out; but it just didn't jive.
See, at the back of my mind, I didn't really plan to do anything tonight - or rather, I planned to do nothing. Yet, I wasn't comfortable with this idea of "staying in on a Saturday night." I let habit and this imaginary pressure get to me, not forgiving or excusing myself for not being in the mood for any of the otherwise fantastic options I feel grateful to have had tonight; perhaps a bit too melancholy for a night out, or a bit "socially-drained" after an epic and very stimulating night of square dancing the night before (more on this later), something about today had me a seeking seclusion for shelter.
For me, to function at my best, I need to prepare myself for what's coming so I can set myself in the right 'mode'. Tonight though, I totally failed at that. My "I-wanna-be-alone" trigger got muted by "it's Saturday night!" and I found myself standing at the bar about to meet my friends, begrudgingly wanting to escape back to my apartment. I derailed a bit, I guess you could say.
I initially thought I totally lamed out. After an awkward hello and goodbye with my friends (likely interpreted as rude or selfish unfortunately - sorry), I went home. To do nothing "on a Saturday." Until that is, I did something I didn't plan to: write. And now I'm back on course, and it feels allllllright.
And it's Sunday already.
February 20, 2015
mediocrity (n.)
mediocrity (n.): early 15c., "moderation; intermediate state or amount," from Middle French médiocrité and directly from Latin mediocritatem, "a middle state, middling condition, medium," from mediocris. Neutral at first; disparaging sense began to predominate from late 16c.
Since when did living "in the middle" become a bad thing? Apparently since the 1690s. Discussing dreams and goals with a friend today found me identifying the tension between achieving and dreaming big. Both of us have set goals over and over and reached them relatively smoothly, finding ourselves time and time again at that "peak" that disappointingly feels rather...mediocre. I thought we'd be gasping for oxygen up here; rather, I'm gasping at how underwhelming achievement can be. Can we reach for more? Are we not dreaming big enough? "It must not be such a big deal then, if I could get here or do it," said more than one person, I'm sure.
And with each achievement building our confidence and ambition, is a dream only big enough when you fail?
For as long as I can remember, I've made writing an important aspect in my life. I wrote my first poem in grade one (it was about the moon, and it rhymed) and I read it aloud and received (what I believed was honest) applause. I kept it up, though over the years, more private.
 |
| From a 2004 journal entry. |
And while my writing style has (I hope) evolved from angst-ridden and self-indulgent, towards witty, critical, nostalgic and cynical, (informed by the years of the grand ol' experience that is a human life, years piled like those countless stacks of my "vocation",) I realize now more than ever that I've done a pretty good job of being a mediocre writer. Or perhaps (if there is a difference), a very mediocre job at being a great writer.
Is that so bad? Have I found a middle way - of doing something I really love in the periphery of other things I kinda also love? Or am I not dreaming big enough to give this something a bigger, less mediocre, attempt..?
How extreme, disruptive, challenging - perhaps impossible- must one's pursuit be to make Mariana's Trench into Everest?
And why does it seem more appealing to proclaim to the world, "I wrote this between Delhi and Dubrovnik when I couchsurfed" than it is to say, "I wrote this during my evening commute between Arbutus and Fraser after my 9-to-5."
Like right now.
p.s. Before the tinge of disparagement crept in, another name for the "Golden Mean" was golden mediocrity. Let's think about that one.
August 24, 2012
content (adj., n.)
I've spent so much time over the last 2 years thinking about content. Having written my thesis on media and content marketing, having begun a career in online communications, and having continued to be an avid content consumer, I should have realized this sooner: How utterly ironic it is that it also sounds like a very important, often unexplored, adjective. Content.
To be content, I think, is really far different from being happy or full of joy or many of those other frilly ways we describe the state of not feeling something bad - like sad, lonely, empty, etc. There's a beautiful and simple subtlety about being content - something natural, calm, and full of release. Rather than the experiencing of some kind of time-stamped smile or an energetic burst of hedonistic satisfaction, being content is plain, good.
In my work, I think a lot about content strategy, social media, branding and all these "outer-world" kind of things. Lately, I found myself thinking about how we consume information, what we define as "social", and how the online universe affects our everyday (as in, for example, how Facebook makes us lonely). Content is king, and we are slaves of it more than ever in this speedy information-propelled age.
Navigating the online world = Marketing ourselves
Self-branding online is not a new concept. But somehow, I can't seem to put aside this idea as it always reminds me of the demands of a digitized identity. The ways in which we express knowledge - of the world and of ourselves - are changing.
Everything is becoming more and more social online: Google increasingly adjusts it's algorithms to crawl what it deems as "social" content; online activity increasingly informs how and where we choose to "hang out" or hold conversations (online and off), (the same conversations via which we consume, use, and disseminate content). We know more about our world and the world knows more about us - but do we know too much about each other and not really enough about ourselves?
Our Ego has always been the mask that we use to present ourselves to the world. But web communications, and social media more specifically, is giving us a chance to manipulate this (much less transparent, much more agile) mask. Some of us may not even realize we're wearing it. Many of us may be even more aware of the mask though, which may be affecting our happiness because we don't feel real.
The internet is democratic
Online channels are democratic. The internet is a space with flexible hierarchies, where unconventional people can become significant influencers.
Companies, for one, have great opportunities to benefit online - they can take advantage of conversing with their market, which benefits consumers as well. At least, the web has opened up opportunities where marketing can become more interactive, expressive, and real. But does this democratized space harm us as human beings in any way? Just because the conversations are more real and the marketing appears more transparent, doesn't mean we feel more real, more understood.
Sorry - I know I can sound preachy in my posts. I often look to express conclusive answers to questions that I pose (albeit using puns and quasi-homonyms). But this week, I'm going to just ask a bunch of questions - and I'll be content to find that the answers we scramble for may simply float around my question marks - and that that's enough.
Does the internet force us to not be true selves? Or is it just part of our developing another ego, a new way to present ourselves to one another?
Do we recognize the difference between appearing content and actually being content?
Are making of our private life too public?
Should we have anything to hide? Is there value in holding on to something just for ourselves?
Are we practicing content marketing every day when we post status updates? What does this mean?
How does online influence feed into our confidence offline?
Is social media just a new tool for human socializaton?
 |
| "We are living in an isolation that would have been unimaginable to our ancestors, and yet we have never been more accessible." - Stephen Marche (The Atlantic) |
To be content, I think, is really far different from being happy or full of joy or many of those other frilly ways we describe the state of not feeling something bad - like sad, lonely, empty, etc. There's a beautiful and simple subtlety about being content - something natural, calm, and full of release. Rather than the experiencing of some kind of time-stamped smile or an energetic burst of hedonistic satisfaction, being content is plain, good.
In my work, I think a lot about content strategy, social media, branding and all these "outer-world" kind of things. Lately, I found myself thinking about how we consume information, what we define as "social", and how the online universe affects our everyday (as in, for example, how Facebook makes us lonely). Content is king, and we are slaves of it more than ever in this speedy information-propelled age.
Navigating the online world = Marketing ourselves
Self-branding online is not a new concept. But somehow, I can't seem to put aside this idea as it always reminds me of the demands of a digitized identity. The ways in which we express knowledge - of the world and of ourselves - are changing.
Everything is becoming more and more social online: Google increasingly adjusts it's algorithms to crawl what it deems as "social" content; online activity increasingly informs how and where we choose to "hang out" or hold conversations (online and off), (the same conversations via which we consume, use, and disseminate content). We know more about our world and the world knows more about us - but do we know too much about each other and not really enough about ourselves?
Our Ego has always been the mask that we use to present ourselves to the world. But web communications, and social media more specifically, is giving us a chance to manipulate this (much less transparent, much more agile) mask. Some of us may not even realize we're wearing it. Many of us may be even more aware of the mask though, which may be affecting our happiness because we don't feel real.
The internet is democratic
Online channels are democratic. The internet is a space with flexible hierarchies, where unconventional people can become significant influencers.
Companies, for one, have great opportunities to benefit online - they can take advantage of conversing with their market, which benefits consumers as well. At least, the web has opened up opportunities where marketing can become more interactive, expressive, and real. But does this democratized space harm us as human beings in any way? Just because the conversations are more real and the marketing appears more transparent, doesn't mean we feel more real, more understood.
Sorry - I know I can sound preachy in my posts. I often look to express conclusive answers to questions that I pose (albeit using puns and quasi-homonyms). But this week, I'm going to just ask a bunch of questions - and I'll be content to find that the answers we scramble for may simply float around my question marks - and that that's enough.
Does the internet force us to not be true selves? Or is it just part of our developing another ego, a new way to present ourselves to one another?
Do we recognize the difference between appearing content and actually being content?
Are making of our private life too public?
Should we have anything to hide? Is there value in holding on to something just for ourselves?
Are we practicing content marketing every day when we post status updates? What does this mean?
How does online influence feed into our confidence offline?
Is social media just a new tool for human socializaton?
January 10, 2012
connected (adj.)
I've recently taken on the position of managing the websites and social media for a boutique animation studio here in Vancouver (Global Mechanic). What I've found, interestingly enough, is that while it's made me "plugged-in" virtually (literally) every day, it's also made me re-evaluate what feeling connected is.
All in all, I'm trying to make the most of this space that we, as a society, are increasingly looking to for advice, tips, gossip..solace and friendship. It's a beautiful thing really. As I look at my network expanding (LinkedIn tells me I'm only three degrees away from 1.9 million people), I see the amount of people out there with my interests and aspirations...and I find myself looking up to people I don't even know!
I find engaging articles on Twitter and catch up with friends on Facebook. I spend hours at work doing this and then come home and do more of it. What I realized today, however, is that to feel connected to the world as a human being, I gotta disconnect a little bit.
Interstingly enough, what I have to show for it is a smile (yes), a bowl of pomegranate seeds (yum)...and (ironically) this blog entry.
So, here's to staying connected and feeling connected. And maybe next time you grab the phone to chat with a friend you'll avoid doing it through a text message. Just because.
All in all, I'm trying to make the most of this space that we, as a society, are increasingly looking to for advice, tips, gossip..solace and friendship. It's a beautiful thing really. As I look at my network expanding (LinkedIn tells me I'm only three degrees away from 1.9 million people), I see the amount of people out there with my interests and aspirations...and I find myself looking up to people I don't even know!
I find engaging articles on Twitter and catch up with friends on Facebook. I spend hours at work doing this and then come home and do more of it. What I realized today, however, is that to feel connected to the world as a human being, I gotta disconnect a little bit.
Interstingly enough, what I have to show for it is a smile (yes), a bowl of pomegranate seeds (yum)...and (ironically) this blog entry.
So, here's to staying connected and feeling connected. And maybe next time you grab the phone to chat with a friend you'll avoid doing it through a text message. Just because.
March 25, 2011
hangry (adj.)
Today I was a busy bee. Off I went to school this morning, then caught a dentist appointment around lunch, and whilst waiting for my fluoride to set into my teeth, starved my poor self putting together scholarship applications. Then, I had a very productive meeting with my lovely MPub tech group (Rabbit Hole Marketing!) and our professor, while chowing down on some lentils. After a couple of hours of that, I sat in my swivel chair working on my first digital portfolio, then ran off to a yoga class as part of my #YYoga30DayChallenge. Busy busy bee!
I must share with you that whenever I use that phrase, I am reminded of "Busy Bee Cleaners" - an establishment I drove by twice, every single day for an entire decade. Every morning, as I drove up Granville Street from 70th Avenue on my way to grade 4 (or grade what have you), I'd see Busy Bee Cleaners - a little white boxy building, in the far corner of the little strip of stores next to the Korean noodle place, looking grungy and dusty and packed.
For some reason, the name stuck; and today, I thought of myself as this crazy lil bee flying around doing way too much, not eating enough, with piles and piles of laundry to do!
Apart from feeling like a busy bee, however, I also felt HUNGRY. After yoga, I had what I call, "yoga-head". I temporarily felt fine - until, of course, my boyfriend came over and I decided to become irritable and annoyed at almost everything he said.
So, today: my entry is dedicated to Ben. I'm sorry for getting so hangry. I hope that, next time, you force feed me before we truly interact. Then you'll get some more honey, and less stinger.
(p.s. He's accepted my apology. We're having a splash of scotch with our friend Aaron right now - he cooks up a meaaannnnn stir-fry! Thanks, Aaron!)
[I would really, really appreciate some feedback on my portfolio, too. Any comments are welcome, and will be taken to heart! Thanks!]
I must share with you that whenever I use that phrase, I am reminded of "Busy Bee Cleaners" - an establishment I drove by twice, every single day for an entire decade. Every morning, as I drove up Granville Street from 70th Avenue on my way to grade 4 (or grade what have you), I'd see Busy Bee Cleaners - a little white boxy building, in the far corner of the little strip of stores next to the Korean noodle place, looking grungy and dusty and packed.For some reason, the name stuck; and today, I thought of myself as this crazy lil bee flying around doing way too much, not eating enough, with piles and piles of laundry to do!
Apart from feeling like a busy bee, however, I also felt HUNGRY. After yoga, I had what I call, "yoga-head". I temporarily felt fine - until, of course, my boyfriend came over and I decided to become irritable and annoyed at almost everything he said.
So, today: my entry is dedicated to Ben. I'm sorry for getting so hangry. I hope that, next time, you force feed me before we truly interact. Then you'll get some more honey, and less stinger.
(p.s. He's accepted my apology. We're having a splash of scotch with our friend Aaron right now - he cooks up a meaaannnnn stir-fry! Thanks, Aaron!)
[I would really, really appreciate some feedback on my portfolio, too. Any comments are welcome, and will be taken to heart! Thanks!]
January 22, 2011
receipt (n.)
For one, I will begin with what about the word "receipt" inspired me to write earlier today.
You may be thinking that I'm talking about receipts in the spirit of Mitch Hedburg's complaint about not needing to get "ink and paper involved" because no one can really quite imagine "a scenario that I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut."
However, somewhere beyond the humour, the receipt still stands for something symbolic. It's a little snippet of your purchasing archives - which led me to think about how we spend our money in general.
The conversation came about when I was chatting with my boyfriend about the latest movie to hit the box office: Barney's Version.
You see, the brother of a friend of mine adapted the screenplay (which is kind of a big deal, yah know?). I feel that I want to somehow support it, (which in the movie biz is often by contributing to its revenue): I want to purchase a movie ticket.
However, I am presently on page 23 of Barney's Version (by Mordecai Richler).
I want to read the book first, but I fear the movie leaving theatres before I can show my $upport...
Then I had an enlightening thought (I think).
Get a receipt
and then reseat!
What I really mean is, swipe my debit card, walk away with my movie ticket for Barney's Version, and then relocate my bum to a different film playing at the same show time (I mean, I gotta get something from the theatre in return!)
In the meantime, I can get moving to page 24 and try to win the race - and hopefully show my financial support twice!
What do you think? Have I lost my mind? Are they gonna catch me? Is it immoral? Will Natalie Portman's producers get mad? Do I care?
[On another note: I didn't forget my remark about irony. I realized that I wish blogger had some kind of receipt to give me every time I published a post. Earlier today, I deleted "this" post (an older, better, pre-rewritten version) and had no way of getting it back. No cache; no nothin! I had to reseat myself on my couch and rewrite this goddamn thing because I have no archive of drafts and old versions- I have no receipt!]
Alright, I've paid double (time) to get this posted so I hope it was worth it. Enjoy! Comment. Let me know if you think I'm crazy and whether my old post deletion was really a sign that I should've just left my blog as is: with no transactions, un-cached.
January 5, 2011
get (v.) as in: get it?
No, I'm not talking about the local paper or about how I don't get HD channels.
This is about some odd stuff I've run across in my day-to-day adventuring (okay, so in the last week or so while hanging out in Richmond), which I decided to capture with my phone.
(No, I didn't use the "blurry" setting.)
(No, I didn't use the "blurry" setting.)
It got me thinking about design and marketing and how intuitive marketers and inventors are (or aren't).
I find it hard to believe that there are high-paid executives out there, sitting around a big mahogany conference desk decked out in their ties and suits making important decisions about the next big thing to hit the market, the next ploy to get consumers to spend their hard-earned dollars, the next genius idea to wow everybody - it's hard to believe because this is some of the stuff they come up with:
I find it hard to believe that there are high-paid executives out there, sitting around a big mahogany conference desk decked out in their ties and suits making important decisions about the next big thing to hit the market, the next ploy to get consumers to spend their hard-earned dollars, the next genius idea to wow everybody - it's hard to believe because this is some of the stuff they come up with:
(Some stuff, however, is pretty cool and I kind of do get it.)
 |
Dr. Ken Nedd - buy his book and you'll learn how to
find peace in the everyday.
Except, he's anything but calming.
In fact, he gives me the jitters and jeepers.
|
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Modestmau5. I just don't get it. After hearing so
much hype surrounding this DJ "band", I decided
to plug into a Much Music broadcast of one of their
shows. All I saw was a very immodest, illuminated Mickey
figure and a crowd taking photos with their cell phones.
Granted, the beat was pretty good (I try to appreciate);
yet, no one was really moving - not even krumping,
moshing, or whatever other dancing people do at these
types of shows. Do people dance at concerts anymore?
|
 |
| I was heading off to one of many Ugly Sweater Parties people host around Christmas Time, and this was hanging by the elevator. Yup, hanging (by the neck). Made me kind of sad - and I'm a Jewish gal who gets a lot of pleasure and enjoyment out of the lights and the green-reddery of the Christmas season. (Alanis would call it ironic - I call it just plain sad design). |
 |
Now this is an idea! A clock radio, a timer, and it
steams your rice in under twenty minutes!
Yup, rice cookers, baby! Long grain, short grain,
CDs (looks like it, eh?) |
 |
Butt pads. Need I say more?
(Yes. "I wish I were a D cup!")
|
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| "Yes, bag it please - I'll take my food to go!" |
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| Anyone allergic to peanuts who eats peanut butter deserves anything they have coming for them. Tweet |
October 14, 2010
www.life.com (n.)
- a true conundrum, after last night's Massey Lecture, which will be broadcast on CBC radio later this month.
Douglas Coupland made a fine point after a lovely reading of the first chapter of his 5 hour/5 chapter book Player One. We, as a live audience, even got the pleasure of watching the author himself sift through minefields of long sentences, chuckle under his breath after getting lost in punctuation - who put that comma there? Oh, I did! - and sip on his water before returning to a very witty narrative about five strangers meeting in an airport lounge during a world catastrophe (there will be blood).
This year's lecture was the first to date to be under the fiction category.
Topics of question included (without much expansion here, because I'll let you all use your imagination, as Coupland would probably appreciate):
split screens / player1 vs player 2 as Coupland's inspiration for telling a single story from the persepctive of at least 2 characters in many of his novels.
sequencing: When faced with a screen, we only have the attention span of the length of a Beatles song (2min45s)/i.e. we can't help but click, look elsewhere, open a new window within that time.
[I'm impressed I can even write this blog without checking Facebook].
In general, post-modern life is just a series of sequences (something that only humans can do), and with the digital age become more of a way of life than a mere phenomenon, we have less and less down time. And no down time can be bad - because our lives will slip by very quickly as we'll experience time as moving much faster. In a sense then, technology has partly lengthened our lives, but also shortened it...
fiction as timeless: it speeds up time. And it is great at taking us through ideas rather than preaching ideas to us (like lectures do!)
money as the physical form of our human desire to speed up time and somehow ultimately escape it.
[I also bought his book for $20.95, which really opens up a whole other realm of interesting philosophical conundrums].
pessimism is much more interesting than optimism. Realism is worst.
I also was introduced to Doug's Law:
"You can have information or you can have life, but you can't have both."
And with that I shall close my windo, let this informative internet world collapse away so I can go LIVE.
Toodles!
- Vish
Douglas Coupland made a fine point after a lovely reading of the first chapter of his 5 hour/5 chapter book Player One. We, as a live audience, even got the pleasure of watching the author himself sift through minefields of long sentences, chuckle under his breath after getting lost in punctuation - who put that comma there? Oh, I did! - and sip on his water before returning to a very witty narrative about five strangers meeting in an airport lounge during a world catastrophe (there will be blood).
This year's lecture was the first to date to be under the fiction category.
Topics of question included (without much expansion here, because I'll let you all use your imagination, as Coupland would probably appreciate):
split screens / player1 vs player 2 as Coupland's inspiration for telling a single story from the persepctive of at least 2 characters in many of his novels.
sequencing: When faced with a screen, we only have the attention span of the length of a Beatles song (2min45s)/i.e. we can't help but click, look elsewhere, open a new window within that time.
[I'm impressed I can even write this blog without checking Facebook].
In general, post-modern life is just a series of sequences (something that only humans can do), and with the digital age become more of a way of life than a mere phenomenon, we have less and less down time. And no down time can be bad - because our lives will slip by very quickly as we'll experience time as moving much faster. In a sense then, technology has partly lengthened our lives, but also shortened it...
fiction as timeless: it speeds up time. And it is great at taking us through ideas rather than preaching ideas to us (like lectures do!)
money as the physical form of our human desire to speed up time and somehow ultimately escape it.
[I also bought his book for $20.95, which really opens up a whole other realm of interesting philosophical conundrums].
pessimism is much more interesting than optimism. Realism is worst.
I also was introduced to Doug's Law:
"You can have information or you can have life, but you can't have both."
And with that I shall close my windo, let this informative internet world collapse away so I can go LIVE.
Toodles!
- Vish
September 10, 2010
workload (n.)
A new month has just begun, bringing with it a new workload.
I started the MPub program I've been raving about to all my friends - and it's fantastic.
I felt a rush of euphoria walking out of the Harbour Centre today, feeling like I was living the dream.
For once it was MY dream!
However, the euphoric moments are yes, mere moments, and my brain somewhat explodes with the thoughts of the workload ahead of me.
However, in the wise words of my friend Alyssa: ONE THING AT A TIME.
And so today, I did a bunch of singular things, which have accumulated to be, well, quite a lot and very important.
I've time-managed as well as I can by purchasing my go-to anti-procrastination device: the personal planner. Now, I always tweak these things to suit my use (pasting calendar spreads, dog-earing pages, making mini bookmarks, and filling it with words of encouragement). And today I did just that. It was an impeccable feeling to know this new school year is Starting Right.
After printing a manuscript for an editing assignment we have due next week, (and after my heart fell into the deep recesses of my stomach when the printer just wouldn't stop printing), I began reading.
I read a lot.
And I'm going to read a lot tomorrow.
And the next day.
And the rest of the month
and semester
and then I will no longer have
the time
to
procrastinate
with
poetry.
(and with blogging?)
Remember, word of theweek month semester: workload
and:
workload - load = work
and this is why it is important to love what you do. And I am thrilled to admit that I am loving the work in MPub.
Now, I'm off to take the load off and read more!
I started the MPub program I've been raving about to all my friends - and it's fantastic.
I felt a rush of euphoria walking out of the Harbour Centre today, feeling like I was living the dream.
For once it was MY dream!
However, the euphoric moments are yes, mere moments, and my brain somewhat explodes with the thoughts of the workload ahead of me.
However, in the wise words of my friend Alyssa: ONE THING AT A TIME.
And so today, I did a bunch of singular things, which have accumulated to be, well, quite a lot and very important.
I've time-managed as well as I can by purchasing my go-to anti-procrastination device: the personal planner. Now, I always tweak these things to suit my use (pasting calendar spreads, dog-earing pages, making mini bookmarks, and filling it with words of encouragement). And today I did just that. It was an impeccable feeling to know this new school year is Starting Right.
After printing a manuscript for an editing assignment we have due next week, (and after my heart fell into the deep recesses of my stomach when the printer just wouldn't stop printing), I began reading.
I read a lot.
And I'm going to read a lot tomorrow.
And the next day.
And the rest of the month
and semester
and then I will no longer have
the time
to
procrastinate
with
poetry.
(and with blogging?)
Remember, word of the
and:
workload - load = work
and this is why it is important to love what you do. And I am thrilled to admit that I am loving the work in MPub.
Now, I'm off to take the load off and read more!
July 15, 2010
boring (adj.)
Today, and after some time (as always), I decided to return to you (all?). In doing so, I noticed that I had bookmarked my OWN blog under a tabbed folder entitled
"Bored."
So, I pondered, "If I'm bored, how can I expect others to be interested in my blog?"
On behalf of you all, I will answer this question:
It's because the world we live in today, while far from boring, is boring us out of our minds.
The moment we move our cursor to the "Internet Explorer," "Firefox" or "Safari", we enter a web portal that justifies our very existence of subconsciously being bored. It opens up a platform on which we lie down, stretch out our legs, and take a little vacation, on a little safari, if you will.
Sure, there are many interesting things to be explored on the world wide web, but insofar as we are building curiosity, we are also illustrating the "real world's" lack of stimuli.
How many of us can attest to actually having laughed their butt off at the immaculate, unobstructed view of the funny fat kid next to us on the rollercoaster? Or when does an actual trip to the farm end with a piss-in-your-pants laughter at the sounds of the man-goat? And how about libido - who out there actually enjoys this much sexy booty in their face? That just might just get a little too firefoxy for my PG blog.
Yah, modern life can be a bit BORING so (or because) we turn to the Internet for an entertaining solace, a compounded effort to reach beyond routine and mediocrity, the errands of the everyday.
And so, my conclusion stands: We're bored, and so we click. I just hope you've clicked onto the right place and I've sucked you out of your boring life for at least a few minutes.
And if not, at least you may have seen some booty.
And just in case you haven't, here it is again folks:
www.google.com
(what, too bored to do it yourself?)
"Bored."
So, I pondered, "If I'm bored, how can I expect others to be interested in my blog?"
On behalf of you all, I will answer this question:
It's because the world we live in today, while far from boring, is boring us out of our minds.
The moment we move our cursor to the "Internet Explorer," "Firefox" or "Safari", we enter a web portal that justifies our very existence of subconsciously being bored. It opens up a platform on which we lie down, stretch out our legs, and take a little vacation, on a little safari, if you will.
Sure, there are many interesting things to be explored on the world wide web, but insofar as we are building curiosity, we are also illustrating the "real world's" lack of stimuli.
How many of us can attest to actually having laughed their butt off at the immaculate, unobstructed view of the funny fat kid next to us on the rollercoaster? Or when does an actual trip to the farm end with a piss-in-your-pants laughter at the sounds of the man-goat? And how about libido - who out there actually enjoys this much sexy booty in their face? That just might just get a little too firefoxy for my PG blog.
Yah, modern life can be a bit BORING so (or because) we turn to the Internet for an entertaining solace, a compounded effort to reach beyond routine and mediocrity, the errands of the everyday.
And so, my conclusion stands: We're bored, and so we click. I just hope you've clicked onto the right place and I've sucked you out of your boring life for at least a few minutes.
And if not, at least you may have seen some booty.
And just in case you haven't, here it is again folks:
www.google.com
(what, too bored to do it yourself?)
March 26, 2010
incohesive (adj.)
Yup, that's my word of the day. The patchy sky with its spittings of rain is making me feel wobbly today. It's three o'clock now, and I realized that when a scrumptious vegan chai cashew bar can't fix your appetite for life, it's time to reach for the laptop and give this "blogging" thing another go.
Granted, my blog hasn't been the most cohesive thing on the planet, I think it somehow seamlessly illustrates my confusion in life.
I was recently accepted into SFU's Master of Publishing program - pretty fancy; the only one in Canada; my super intelligent and more-genius-than-me friend got put on a waiting list last year for it, and I got in, first try. I'm pretty thrilled, but rather than being inspired and hopeful, I am worried.
Maybe it wasn't popular this year.
Maybe they needed to fill spots, after a bunch of very smart people realized that BC's arts funding cuts will adversely affect the publishing industry - so what's the point of being in it? Let some other academic wannabe get into the program.
But, then again, maybe I'm brilliant, and if I work hard at it, I won't have to be accepting internships, honorariums and stipends; instead I'll be torn apart by potential employers who want ME to do IMPORTANT HIGHLY PAID WORK.
I guess where I'm getting at is that I'm in a very "incohesive" place because the world is just too uncertain and every path is a hard, uncertain one.
Hell, even as I write this, blooger.com wants to tell me that "incohesive" isn't a word. It damned better be a word! (Otherwise, why am I going into publishing?)
And since when did "blogger" make it into a colloquial dictionary before "incohesive" did?!
(Maybe that's why I'm going into publishing.)
Granted, my blog hasn't been the most cohesive thing on the planet, I think it somehow seamlessly illustrates my confusion in life.
I was recently accepted into SFU's Master of Publishing program - pretty fancy; the only one in Canada; my super intelligent and more-genius-than-me friend got put on a waiting list last year for it, and I got in, first try. I'm pretty thrilled, but rather than being inspired and hopeful, I am worried.
Maybe it wasn't popular this year.
Maybe they needed to fill spots, after a bunch of very smart people realized that BC's arts funding cuts will adversely affect the publishing industry - so what's the point of being in it? Let some other academic wannabe get into the program.
But, then again, maybe I'm brilliant, and if I work hard at it, I won't have to be accepting internships, honorariums and stipends; instead I'll be torn apart by potential employers who want ME to do IMPORTANT HIGHLY PAID WORK.
I guess where I'm getting at is that I'm in a very "incohesive" place because the world is just too uncertain and every path is a hard, uncertain one.
Hell, even as I write this, blooger.com wants to tell me that "incohesive" isn't a word. It damned better be a word! (Otherwise, why am I going into publishing?)
And since when did "blogger" make it into a colloquial dictionary before "incohesive" did?!
(Maybe that's why I'm going into publishing.)
October 23, 2009
paper smock (n.)
The moment you set down the idea To Write, the blank page is daunting. It calls out like a chore, seeking to envelop your hand and it's inky pen, to make it shed its innards onto the page. It's very self-destructive this choice to Begin To Write. It becomes an obligation, with no merit, no warrant for affection or personal achievement. It is like an appointment with the doctor who must examine you in your paper smock. You feel naked, exposed and without words as his eyes gaze at his instruments that describe you with numbers and decimal points. You are Healthy in body.
To Do List
- 3pm Dr. Marger appt.
- Safeway
- rant on my blog "tick"
Do I feel healthier in mind?
I guess. I did something for myself today. I bled a few thoughts, wore the paper smock and stained it with ink.
To Do List
- 3pm Dr. Marger appt.
- Safeway
- rant on my blog "tick"
Do I feel healthier in mind?
I guess. I did something for myself today. I bled a few thoughts, wore the paper smock and stained it with ink.
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