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.