Lost Right Here
Still haven't had my long hot soak in the tub, though I keep trying. Been getting sufficient sleep instead. I was close the last couple nights, getting everything else I wanted done. Fascinating stuff, eh? Self care can be so inconvenient to one's schedule.
I like the gray season, there is something strangely comforting and calming with the shorter days which here greatly tend toward overcast skies, lots of strong winds, and rain. Is it the remembrance of watching the storming sea from the snug windows of the house I grew up in? Or is it more primal, a feeling of safety going back to my Celtic and Norse roots, feeling more secure when marauding forces were much less likely to be marauding, and when there was no immediate drive to go out marauding either? I like the second possibility better. My martial background or romantic side I suppose. Maybe it's less likely. Who cares. If you think it is all a flight of fancy, that racial memories are all bunkem, well you can... Well, just bugger off mate. Okay, we may be right. Again, so what?
I saw Michael J. Fox's interview on Inside The Actor's Studio last night. Impressive path he's on -- I'll let you watch it. One of the things he said, was something along the lines "Two plus two is four. It's always the same. Where's the discovery or fun in that?" It's at once a simplistic and elegant view of the futility of mathematics. I'm basically a mathematician, and writing code like any applied mathematics is not generally linear and straightforward. Still, to write code against a marketing database targeting certain behavior in customers is finite. Given a dataset, the same rules, correctly written code should give the same results for anybody writing the code. I know there are some database programmers out there, who might quibble, but I'd say you just need a better specification and the results should always be the same.
I totally understood what Michael was getting at. It is what I like about theatre, and art in general. There is no 'right' answer, just truth. Even truth is not something which be described with any sort of mathematical precision. Therein lies the beauty.
I'm feeling a little ache. Not the physical aches from back and legs, but a deeper yearning. ETI is filling that ache a bit, but it is also waking me up to so much more. Today I'm feeling that oh so important question I went on about last month of "What do I want to say?" is rather inane. Right now it seems the mode or level of communication I am striving to learn is what matters. Finding a profound way to express my disgust at the righteous cowards running our country, or getting people open enough to see the painfully obvious amorality feels shallow. Communicating on that deeper level feels like it should be the end. Why? Will it make be better able to push my ideas or insights? Will it make people more open to thinking for themselves? I don't know. I don't know which possibility is more important. I thought I did until I explored the two thoughts. Then I got to thinking is either one really important. I don't know.
We were talking about something during lunch break on yesterday or Tuesday. One of my classmates commented very emphatically that I am extremely smart. It was something in the more tangible realm, some connection or solution I suggested. I nearly went into self-deprecation mode, for other than my old habit. I realized what she was talking about, came up short, and sincerely said "Thank you." That kind of brightness enables me to easily build and design sets and props as well as program away my life force in high tech. I was thinking about art and questions like that in the previous paragraph, which is why I nearly denied the compliment. I do not feel terribly brilliant in that realm. More like I'm lumbering about in total darkness, not even sure if I'm indoors or outdoors. Why don't I feel incompetent? Why do I love careening into unseen walls, sometimes painfully, even when I misinterpret their significance over and over, possibly getting closer to the truth.
I feel like I'm lost in a strangely familiar landscape. Sometimes it is like an old and dear friend, other times an enigmatic and dangerously frightening stranger. I feel blissfully lost in a forgotten landscape.
I like the gray season, there is something strangely comforting and calming with the shorter days which here greatly tend toward overcast skies, lots of strong winds, and rain. Is it the remembrance of watching the storming sea from the snug windows of the house I grew up in? Or is it more primal, a feeling of safety going back to my Celtic and Norse roots, feeling more secure when marauding forces were much less likely to be marauding, and when there was no immediate drive to go out marauding either? I like the second possibility better. My martial background or romantic side I suppose. Maybe it's less likely. Who cares. If you think it is all a flight of fancy, that racial memories are all bunkem, well you can... Well, just bugger off mate. Okay, we may be right. Again, so what?
I saw Michael J. Fox's interview on Inside The Actor's Studio last night. Impressive path he's on -- I'll let you watch it. One of the things he said, was something along the lines "Two plus two is four. It's always the same. Where's the discovery or fun in that?" It's at once a simplistic and elegant view of the futility of mathematics. I'm basically a mathematician, and writing code like any applied mathematics is not generally linear and straightforward. Still, to write code against a marketing database targeting certain behavior in customers is finite. Given a dataset, the same rules, correctly written code should give the same results for anybody writing the code. I know there are some database programmers out there, who might quibble, but I'd say you just need a better specification and the results should always be the same.
I totally understood what Michael was getting at. It is what I like about theatre, and art in general. There is no 'right' answer, just truth. Even truth is not something which be described with any sort of mathematical precision. Therein lies the beauty.
I'm feeling a little ache. Not the physical aches from back and legs, but a deeper yearning. ETI is filling that ache a bit, but it is also waking me up to so much more. Today I'm feeling that oh so important question I went on about last month of "What do I want to say?" is rather inane. Right now it seems the mode or level of communication I am striving to learn is what matters. Finding a profound way to express my disgust at the righteous cowards running our country, or getting people open enough to see the painfully obvious amorality feels shallow. Communicating on that deeper level feels like it should be the end. Why? Will it make be better able to push my ideas or insights? Will it make people more open to thinking for themselves? I don't know. I don't know which possibility is more important. I thought I did until I explored the two thoughts. Then I got to thinking is either one really important. I don't know.
We were talking about something during lunch break on yesterday or Tuesday. One of my classmates commented very emphatically that I am extremely smart. It was something in the more tangible realm, some connection or solution I suggested. I nearly went into self-deprecation mode, for other than my old habit. I realized what she was talking about, came up short, and sincerely said "Thank you." That kind of brightness enables me to easily build and design sets and props as well as program away my life force in high tech. I was thinking about art and questions like that in the previous paragraph, which is why I nearly denied the compliment. I do not feel terribly brilliant in that realm. More like I'm lumbering about in total darkness, not even sure if I'm indoors or outdoors. Why don't I feel incompetent? Why do I love careening into unseen walls, sometimes painfully, even when I misinterpret their significance over and over, possibly getting closer to the truth.
I feel like I'm lost in a strangely familiar landscape. Sometimes it is like an old and dear friend, other times an enigmatic and dangerously frightening stranger. I feel blissfully lost in a forgotten landscape.
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