What the Bleep.

So the movie get-together was fun!

We ordered pizza and watching most of the movie. The dvd player in that room is awful, so we switched to Youtube halfway through.

The movie itself was... interesting. I liked the story, but wanted less of the commentary.
The quantum physics stuff was neat to listen to it.
I lost interest in the movie, though, at the wedding scene. It was... weird.
Very weird.

I am...

Before, when I did the "Who am I and why am I here" assignment... I couldn't. In fact, I was a little bit angry and upset about it.
I don't know who I am. I don't know why am I here. I don't like that people expect me to know these things. I don't think I'll ever know who I am. That person changes every day.

Now, though, I think I might be able to give an answer, though it certainly isn't the kind of answer I would consider an answer.

I am a woman, a daughter, a granddaughter, a sister, a niece, a girlfriend, a friend.
I am 25 years old.
I am an accident.
I am a student.
I am an artist.
I am a bit of a gamer.
I am a geek.
I am hated.
I am loved.
I am my God's child.
I am.

I am all these things and I am above all these things.

I am here because of my parents.
I am here, at this school, to learn.
I am here because God put me here and led me here.
I am here because I want to be here.
I am here.

The book.

May I start by saying the altered book is a neat idea... and it would have been much nicer had this been a full 16-week semester.
Six weeks just wasn't enough time. Not when I've got other classes and a job to keep up with as well.

As it is... I ran out of time.
I didn't get to do what I wanted with the book and even with my compromises, I had to make more compromises.


Ultimately, I tore the pages out of the book and turned the covers into a simple little box, which I spray painted white. To me, the cover, the outside, that shouldn't be important. Not the most important. I don't want people to know what to expect of me when they see me, so a blank slate seemed a good place to start.

The plan was to burn the ashes of the book. However, the pages weren't regular paper and I didn't have the resources (or the time) to spend getting all those pages down to ashes. So instead, I went out and hunted for some dark, fine glitter that didn't cost an arm and a leg. I finally found some and used that to symbolize the ashes. The pages were the inside of the book. I hate some things about myself and many of things are on the inside. Burning them symbolizes my overcoming these perceived shortcomings. I put a orange paper crane in there, as a nod to the Phoenix who is reborn from the ashes.

There's half an egg shell in there to symbolize the Egg and the Eye.

I doodled on the side of the inner box for Polly Wolly Doodle All the Day.

There's an arrow with Z's on it under the egg for Sleep on It.

The paper crane Phoenix is me, for Who Are You and Why Are You Here?.

Some of the ashes I did manage to create from pages were sprinkled on top, for the 50 What Ifs...?.

There's a bit of the paper from the book with the word "Rule" on it, being gripped and broken by a crawdad claw (I collect and create jewelry from strange things).

I took another page from the book with an image graphic on it and made it look like an iPod with sound waves across the screen for Taste the Second of a Sound.

I found another page with the word "Absolute" on it and wrote "Failure" under that. I placed it under the Phoenix, for the FEAR assignment.

And for Bliss.... a video game controller cut from another page.



I wanted to do a lot of different things with the book... But for the sake of money and time, I couldn't. For these reasons, I'm not happy with how the book came out. But I know what limits to push and this wasn't one of them.
For this reason, I feel good about the result of this assignment.


On the notes of an "altar" to the self, I was and still am uncomfortable with the idea of describing it as such. It's against my religious views and my personal beliefs to hold myself in any high regard that would merit an "altar". I understand it was a clever play on words, but I felt it necessary to voice my discomforts.

• What is your opinion of combining technology and the human body as she did in the video?

I thought it was really neat. Wonderful imagination. Not quite my cup of tea, but I can appreciate it.

• What is your opinion of combining a media arts and science project with your own body?

I would never do that with my own body. I don't like my body and I don't like my self and that's probably not ever going to change. I like when people like my art and my creativity, but I want them to focus on that--not on who or what I am.

Bliss

I don't know if the cover of the book is really the most important thing.
"First impressions" and all that, sure. I understand that.
But for the book that is supposed to be the "altar" to the self... I know I'm not the prettiest thing out there. That's the surface of me.
I would hope, though, that after people spend some time with and get to know me, they see whatever beauty might lie within.

These were my thoughts before doing the bliss assignment and they still are my thoughts after doing the bliss assignment.


The bliss assignment, though, was nice. Spending time with the people I love is always a joy.

Fear Pt 3

Everyone had such wonderful and thoughtful projects. I think the one that hit home the most for me was Spencer's project.

I am a rather insecure person (though most people who see just the surface don't believe that). I dislike myself and many aspects of myself greatly. I know this hinders me and my creativity, but it's very difficult to move past something that can be so crippling--like hating oneself.
Spencer had me put that into perspective by writing my insecurities down on a piece of paper and then symbolically destroying those hateful thoughts by shredding that paper and those written ideas.

I can draw a lot from Spencer's project (And it does remind me of my own project, since some of the insecurities I harbor stem from the fear of failure). It still resonates in my mind and, I think, it will for some time. Next time I'm feeling the urge to just trash whatever I'm working on, I hope I'll remember shredding that paper. I hope the memory will be enough for me work up the courage to stomp down my fears and let them chain me no longer.

For this freeing experience, I must thank you, Spencer.

FEAR pt2

Conduct the Experiment -

My experiment was, well, simple.
I had a piece of poster board on which I'd written "FAILURE" and a few other words. "Failure" and these other words, all of which pertained to "failure" except for "bees", seems to be at the root of my fears. I'm afraid of letting people down, disappointing my peers, "not being good enough", not being accepted... and it all boils down to that one word.
So I rambled about this briefly to the class and then took the posterboard and laid it on the ground. On top of this, I set a collection of markers. I then invited everyone to write their own fears down on this poster--to let out those secret fears and to put my fears and their fears in perspective. We're all afraid of something, so why should we let it drag us down?

I predicted that a few people would do it, but I thought it might take a bit of time before people felt more comfortable to get down on the floor and draw or write on my poster.
I was wrong.
I was very surprised by the seeming eagerness of everyone. Nearly every person in the class surged forward at the same time and grabbed a spot on the poster. The couple of people who waited behind eventually joined once there was room for them.

Given the opportunity, I would love to see this expanded. Make it a mural and give everyone more time and more media to choose from to contribute to this. Afterwards, I would have liked to take a can of spray paint and paint the whole board white again--symbolically "cleaning" our fears from our minds and freeing us to be creative in our own way on a blank canvas.

Prediction

I think the response to my project will be generally "normal". By that, I simply mean that I don't think people will react strongly one way or another. I think most people will participate in it.

In retrospect

I look forward to the end of this semester.

I'm still stressed and I don't handle stress very well, I think. The constant assignments from this class and my other class, in addition to the looming move that happens--oh, my gosh--tomorrow, in addition to other more private matters of my life has me fighting headaches, impending dramatic outbursts, and general unhappiness.
I do wish I'd been able to take this class during a full 16-week semester, but I might not have had the time even then.
I wonder how my book is going to turn out.


That said, while nothing stood out in particular to me yesterday, I really liked the stumbling across the open piano video. That was pretty wicked.
Using something for a thing other than its intended purpose is a good way of thinking outside the box. In fact, the video was very inspirational. In what ways can I "break the rules" of use, in order to create something new?
I wish I had more time to explore this idea, but, unfortunately, I won't for a couple weeks. It did, however, remind me of this movie:

August Rush.

The project I hated

So the project was a neat idea...

BUT I HATED IT.
I hate to say it but... it's true.

I worked my butt off last night drawing and recording this, only to run into every single possible thing that could mess up.
One of the files got corrupted.
iMovie refused to work.
Youtube seems to have forgotten how to process a video.
Blogger doesn't understand how to movie..


etc.


Anyway, Tasting the Sound of a Second..


I decided to draw something (Big shocker), but the focus of the project was not the drawing itself. No, it was the sound the creation of the project produced.
So I have 45 minutes of the sounds of pencils and markers sliding across a paper surface.
The subject was an hourglass, with an Eastern Asian dragon and a tree encompassing it.
The lung dragon (Eastern Asian cultures view dragons as good omens, representing water and heaven) and the tree (nature, earth, life) are holding time.
The sounds created were, in my opinion, lovely. I found myself trying to listen as I drew, but I was still surprised by what I could hear in the recordings. It wasn't just the sound of pencil and pen on paper, interrupted by the occasional sniffle (blah, sick). If you listen hard enough, you can hear me breathing.
And probably my tummy rumbling.

Broken rules

It was interesting seeing how everybody went about breaking the rules. I liked some of the projects that came out of it, too -- music, art, concepts.

The idea of breaking the rules can be taken as such a small thing or expanded into a grand endeavor. Some of us, like myself, broke personal rules. Other people broke societal rules and others toed the line of the law.

The freedom (or ensnaring chains) that are consequential to the breaking of rules is also of significant importance. Sometimes the consequences were inconsequential or completely unnoticeable. Other times, rule-breakers may face persecution or resentment from others. Sometimes the rule-breakers become the start of change in societal standards--revolutionaries that eventually alter the fundamental ideas of a community.

It all comes back, I feel, to this video on Youtube. Every time I watch it, I notice something else, some new message.

I feel that movie addresses many societal concepts.

Most noticeably is perhaps the theme of music. Art can be a beautiful thing to one person, but other people may not understand. Moreover, a society may not be ready for a particular artist's ideas. A person with a new idea might do anything to get that idea out, consequences be damned. And regardless one's voice may be silence, their ideas yet live in the minds of others.

The speakers, too, were significant. What designates your daily ritual? What does one hear, versus what does one want to hear? Is the "man behind the curtain" the be-all-and-end-all? Or are there others even higher up with whom to contend?

The monotony of an artless society, the aged colours on the table underneath the blade and the chopping block, the repetition for something as simple as a door cushion, the shared name and unique number, the clean environment that was at the same time dirty and old...

I just love this movie.

Breaking Rules

I broke a rule. Well, several rules.

They were self-imposed rules, but still rules.


When I draw using traditional media, I have unspoken rule to always work in graphite and always sketch out something first. Usually, I should have an idea of what I'm going to draw.
Afterwards, if I like the drawing, I may go over it using my inking pens (Always use the XS, S, and F ones. NEVER use the Brush pen.).

So I picked up my sketchbook. Didn't know what I was going to draw.
I reached for my tools and passed right over my pencil. instead grabbing an inking pen. I grabbed the Brush pen.

I looked at my paper--so white and clean--and set the pen to it.

I started with a long vertical curving line.
Decided to make that line a bit thicker.
Then I draw more lines branching off of it, all of them also curved. I smoothed the transitions between the lines and drew more branching off those.
Can you guess what I was drawing now?
Beth spoke of how her vision of "God" was a tree. I was drawing a tree.
Leaves came in and I told myself I'd fill everything in, so it was all silhouettes. I changed my mind on that and gave the tree a mixture of black leaves and white leaves.
The tree was lonely, so I draw in some birds.
I drew some grass and regretted it, but left it alone.

Looking at the finished product, I can't say I'm completely happy with it, but I am satisfied and somewhat surprised. I lost patience a few times and screw up the lines, but the imperfections seem to work.

Rule 1: Have an idea of what you're going to draw--
happy accidents don't happen to you.
Rule 2: Always start with a pencil sketch.
Rule 3: If you decide to use inking pens over the sketch, NEVER use the Brush pen (Because you don't know how to use it properly).

So yesterday we talked about the "Who are you and why are you here?" homework assignment.
I didn't much care for most of it because it was focused on myself and, afterwards, I felt my flaws more pronounced. We did talk a lot about self-improvement. Self-improvement, however, can be difficult, especially when dealing with something that, unfortunately, makes up a very significant portion of myself/my personality.

However, the overarching themes we discussed reminded me of one of my favorite youtube videos: Bartholomew's Song.
The idea of breaking the rules, doing things out of the norm because there's not much saying you CAN'T, etc. I don't remember how I found this video, but I do know that I absolutely love it. It's beautiful. The idea of going against the system, society, the rules, etc--it's so freeing.

What if...

What if I place the book in a fishtank filled with salt water?

What if I paint every page in the book white?

What if I tear out every page in the book and fill the empty space with a sheet of foam?

What if I draw all of my characters in the pages of the book?

What if I cut a hole in every page of the book?

What if I paint a picture on every page of the book?

What if I cut out a square in the pages of the book and fill the space with treasures?

What if I fill the pages with origami pieces?

What if I digitize the book and burn the original?

What if the book were attached to a chain and dragged behind a car for 1.5 hours (As long as it takes me go home to my parents')?

What if I turn every page in the book into a paper airplane and released each one into a storm?

What if I tied a rock to the book and dropped it into the pond behind my apartment?

What if I burned the book and sent the ashes into space (Not possible, but I wish I could)?

What if I do something amazing with the book, burn it, save the ashes, and have the ashes of it mixed with mine when I die and am cremated?

What if tear out all the pages and layer them into a poster sized frame with a painted overlay?

What if I tear out all the pages and turn them into a papier-mache sphere filled with tiny little knick-knacks and etc.?

What if I lay all the pages out into a giant sheet onto which I paint a scene?

What if I used an acid wash to burn away the images on the cover and burned away the edges of the pages?

What if I freeze the book in a giant block of ice and carved the ice into a broken heart?

What if tear out all the pages, paint them white, and write letters to all my friends and family, and send those letters out through the postal service?

What if I painted all the pages black, then used subtractive art tools to scratch away paint and reveal images from my imagination?

What if I tear out all the pages, paint or print my own pictures on them, and sell them as heART prints at the conventions I plan to attend next year?

What if I whited out the pages and used the book to tell the story I've been writing for the last ten years?

What if I did nothing with the book?

What if I set the book in a shallow tank and sealed it in clear resin?

What if I turned the pages of the book into complicated origami koi fish and created a koi pond scene pop-out between the empty covers?

What if I blacked out everything but one word on every page, in order to convey an idea?

What if I whited out all the pages, then used the blank pages to animate the drawing of an image?

What if I glued all the pages together and turned the book into a brick?

What if I hide the book in the ceiling tiles and leave it there for as long as it lasts?

What if used the pages of the book and some tape to continue the efforts of Operation Beautiful?

What if I turned the book into a posable dragon sculpture?

What if I used foam board and turned the book into a shield and sword?

What if I white out the cover, tear out the pages, and replace the pages with the pages of a book I love?

What if I white out the pages and fill the book with zen doodles?

What if I white out the pages of the book (CSS Made Easy) and write my own code in its pages?

What if I use the pages of the book to make a dress?

What if I tear out the pages, cut them in half (and half again?), and cut the size of the cover, and turn the pieces into a Pokedex book?

What if I fashioned the pages of the book into a paper lantern(s)?

What if I shred the pages of the book and used them to build a bird's nest?

What if I used the book as material to create a cosplay costume?

What if I white out the pages, tear them out, write messages "from the future" or "from 'aliens'" on them, and leave the pages lying in places people will find them?

What if I write a "What if... ?" question on every page?

So yesterday we all journeyed to "The Cave", a media lab in the locked side of the building. I've been there many times and, frankly, would have liked to skip out on it (at least initially).
However, I actually found myself having fun. Though I didn't try out anything, I had a great time watching everybody's reactions to the motion detection in the AVL and the Oculus Rift.
Though I felt largely detached, I liked seeing everyone else having fun.

Why did I feel detached? I'm not sure. I've been feeling it a lot lately.
It's like I exist on the peripherals and can't quite be a part of the world.

So I put this off until the last day and quite close to the last minute. Why?

Well, the question to answer seems simple enough: "Who are you and why are you here?"
In the literal sense, I'm Tiffani and I'm here (in this class) because I wanted to take another class with Beth. I'm here (at this school) because Ball State wasn't approved for the financial aid I'm receiving. I'm here (on this earth), because God put me here for his purposes.

..But who I am? In the meta sense--beyond "Tiffani, female, white, 25"? I haven't a clue, really.

I could say I'm an artist.
I could say I'm a below-average gamer.
I could say I'm a creative person.
A Christian.
A writer.
A consumer.

But I don't know if any one of these actually define me. I'm still exploring. I'm still undecided on what I really want out of life.

So how can I really know who I am, or what defines me?
When I do the book part of this assignment, I'm curious to see what comes of it.

I thought it was really interesting listening to everyone's reactions to "sleeping" on their book. Some people had weird dreams, some people came up with different solutions around it to accommodate for the size of their book, others subconsciously rejected being so close to the text.

I, however, had no trouble sleeping with my book. I didn't notice its presence all night. In fact, in the morning, I almost forgot to take it with me to class.
This could be because I'm dealing with a lot of other things in my life right now that are far more important than a book I dislike. It could be because of the reason I dislike my book--it's a guilt thing. Or maybe it's just because I'm already feeling somewhat unattached or disinterested in this class, though I don't know why exactly that is. I enjoy the class, I just feel as though maybe its more of a peripheral part of my life right now.

A semester-long assignment has us taking a book we really don't like and changing it, altering it into something new.

The book I've chosen is not one that I hate, per se, but I do have strong feelings concerning it.
It is a CSS instruction book.
Don't get me wrong, I love CSS! Coding web pages is a lot of fun. But that's not what this book means to me.
Around 10 years ago, I started getting into web design. I didn't have any teachers, so I was learning through Google searches and reading web page sources. My dad saw me struggling with it in some areas, so he went out and bought two books: HTML 4.0 CliffsNotes and the CSS instruction book. I was ecstatic. Finally, something that will show me what I need to know!
Well, I tried to read and understand these books and I just couldn't wrap my head around them. So they sat for 10 years, unused.
This was something that my dad went out of his way for in order to help me with something I loved. And I didn't even use it.
The guilt of that has haunted me ever since.
Looking at these books, which are outdated and largely useless now, reminds me of that guilt.

To me, the book represents the guilt. Looking at it, I feel ashamed I didn't make a better effort to use it. I feel like I must be some kind of ungrateful child for not making that better effort.
That's what the book means to me. It's a weight on my shoulders and on my heart. And it's time to change that.

Yesterday, we shared our "Egg and Eye" projects. It was interesting seeing everybody's interpretations of the egg -- life, self, iconic game characters...
While my project wasn't necessarily unique (I'm not the first to drop an egg in a jar of vinegar), I still feel good about what I did with it, because it reflected myself (at the time).
Our further discussion of synchronicity, serendipity, surrender, and spontaneity brought me a little closer, I think, to really understanding how the four exist and work together. I feel like I'm closer to synchronicity and serendipity; I use them more than I do the other two. It's difficult for me to surrender myself and I can't be spontaneous (At least, I can't when I try).
Speaking of serendipity and synchronicity... I'm still curious about that piece of paper that had been left in the room before class started...

... the egg ...

Our new assignment, we were given an egg. Just a simple white chicken egg, likely from the grocery store. What it meant and what we were supposed to do with it was up to us find out and decide. It was a completely open assignment... centered around one egg.

I thought. And I thought. And I thought some more.

Should I microwave it? Make a huge mess and have fun cleaning it up? Nah. It didn't feel right.

Should I freeze it? That's what I was going to do. Freeze the egg and bring it to class, frozen and peeled. I was going to write a neat little narrative, too, from the egg's point of view. Something about being trapped in a strange cold place that only gets colder. Nah.

Instead, I put the egg in a jar full of vinegar.

The fun thing about this experiment? The shell of the egg is slowly removed by the acidity of the vinegar, but the membrane remains intact.

It reminds me of me, actually, and how stress, anxiety, and anger work against me.

Little things that shouldn't matter slowly tear away at me, and I let it just build up, bottling everything in. I try to keep from breaking down, or exploding, but it's difficult.

The vinegar, that looks on the surface like harmless water, eats away at the shell of the egg, until only the membrane is left to protect what's inside. But what's inside has become bloated, filling up with gasses and just ready to explode. 

Eventually, something... something small, will set me off and all that frustration or irritation will be released in a mini-nuke of emotion.

Just like it doesn't take much to burst the membrane of the egg.

Another day is done. Today we shared our Doodle assignments.

I have an apparent inability to surrender myself to mindless doodling. I have an apparent inability to surrender myself to anything, really. I like to be in control, or at least have a goal I'm trying to reach and have a general plan that is likely to produce an expected degree of success in whatever I attempt:

I'm in the middle of planning to move out of my current apartment and into a different one. It's only across the street, but because it hasn't actually happened yet, and I have a lot I have to do to make this move go as smoothly as possible, it's imposing itself as a huge stressor on my life right now.
I'm taking another class and this class as been most poorly planned. The work load is appropriate for an intro-level 16-week course, but since no tailoring has been done to the study plan as it's transferred to a 6-week course, the work load is daunting. I'm frustrated already and would rather not deal with it right now, but I don't have much of a choice in the matter.

I like to have a plan. I like to know what to expect, or a general range of what to expect. I like to be in control.

Indecisiveness is crippling and I hate it. "Going with the flow" is a most difficult concept for me to fold myself into.

I've experienced it once or twice, but needed pharmaceutical aid in reaching that point each time. I loved the creative works that resulted from those episodes. But I can't seem to let it go on a whim.

I shall endeavor to change that about myself.

Ugh. I really hate sharing anything... that hasn't been moderately refined. But when one must share doodles, one must share doodles.
Synchronicity, serendipity, spontaneity, surrender... Success! Maybe not quite success, but I've certainly got some things to work with here (A couple of which I plan to keep working on).
I'm still not entirely sure how these four s's actually work together, but the idea is a pretty one.
For the first half of this thirty minute session, I doodled while listening to some of the videos. That certainly had an affect on what I drew, as did what I was looking at.
I started with the duck. There are ducks in my backyard--I was watching them waddle around when I started the duck sketch. I then doodled a person... thinking about doodling the duck.
Then serendipity got stuck in my mind. The definition is a "fortunate happenstance", according to Google. That got me off on the tangent of fortune and fate, which ultimately led to the cosmic. Hence the planet and comet.
Then someone in the videos (I lost track of which one I was on at this point) talked about the window to the soul, a merging of technology and biology, global inspiration, etc...
Then I went back to the ducks, who were by the pond. Pond = fish. Koi fish.
I don't know if anything I doodled can be attributed to serendipity except to the word itself. But spontaneity and synchronicity were certainly present during this session. Surrender? I'm an artist by nature, but I have a hard time limiting my drawings to doodles. It was easy, though, to just draw whatever came to mind--surrendering myself to, well, fortunate happenstance. And the other two s's.

dayOne

So the first day of Seeing Sideways has come and gone. I've got to say that I'm certainly looking forward to this class. I only wish it lasted longer than six short weeks!

I think my favorite part of today was going around and listening to each student talk about him or herself. It gave me an inkling of who some of my fellow classmates were. I found a couple of kindred spirits, too.
More importantly, though, I was able to reassess what my goals for the class were after listening to some other opinions and expectations. I first signed up for this class thinking it might be therapeutic, after listening to some other people describe. My expectations changed when I heard the class was more challenging than I originally thought, and thought maybe it would help with problem-solving skills. This morning, I entered the room expecting a class that would, simply put, help me find a new perspective, a new lens, through which to look at my challenges. All of these are all well and good, I suppose.
After listening to some of my fellow classmates' ideas and goals, however, my own wants changed. I didn't want just a new perspective. Frankly, I wanted--want--freedom. I want freedom from the chains of other peoples' expectations, freedom from the "rules" of art and development. Mostly, I want freedom from myself. Too often I allow the opinions, anticipated or real, of others to dictate what I do. I allow it to trap me on a set path of creation, in which creativity is stifled to fit the stencil of perceived culture. I do it to myself, really.

Will Seeing Sideways with Beth Lykins help me to snap these chains which bind my wrists? I don't know. But I'll damn well try to see that it does.