004. to ride faithfully the impulse to create
The maker is also the material, shaped by the process of creation.
Greetings [:
Well/wow, january 2021 was fast. I keep thinking and saying that sometimes time flies, and sometimes it’s such a drag. I don’t know what to think about time anymore. Do you think Time likes it that we keep thinking about it?
I don’t think life is meant to be thought about as a function of “time”. I’ve come to see, especially so in the year that passed, how we think about time — how we talk about it and feel it — shapes the way we live. I caught 3 films last year, both old and new, about time: Tenet, Interstellar, and About Time. This zooming in on the theme of Time was not planned though I would say that these ponderings on time have always been somewhere in the background on my processor, always whirring, in part because I found myself always waiting. Waiting, for something. Waiting, impatiently, for the world to return back to normal.
Metaphors and sayings about time proliferate through culture and pepper our lives; they shape the way we experience our lives. I think we accept them too mindlessly; we should be less blasé about it. Just to name a few: wasting time, out of time, whether something is worth thy’s time…and one of the most intriguing to me — buying time. It is intriguing because it seems like we spend time to buy time.
Anyways. I can drone on and on about time and it feels like a subject for another time. I brought it up because I was reflecting about picking up a new skill and creating/making — two processes which I feel are profoundly influenced by our personal ideas of time. When pressed for time and harrassed by notions of its scarcity, we become less forgiving, more impatient, less tolerant of uncertainty. There is little room for failure, so we favour certitude and convenience. Sometimes, that means forgoing opportunities to learn and create.
What am I offered? What is the carrot that is being dangled in front of me? Is it worth my time?
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Anything that animates us creatively in a positive way — be it the grand design of a great architectural wonder or the Big Bang of a child’s drawing — is a re-enactment of the original creation story. Whether we realise it or not, making art is a religious encounter as it is our attempts to grow beyond ourselves that energise the soul of the universe. — Nick Cave.
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These images below are generated with p5.js — something I picked up recently after chancing upon creative coding, a field that is more concerned with using code as a form of creative expression in Generative Art or Design, beyond its function of deriving something of utility. It is a process of creation where one is in partnership — in part or in full — with an autonomous random or rule-driven system. First I learn to speak the language of the computer so that my commands may be received. I set up my canvas and then turn to my choice of tools and brushes. I pick my constraint of choice — i really enjoy the function random(): here’s where I let the will of the programme take over. The second and third piece were created this way.
It has been interesting, studying this process of picking up a new skill. First comes an incessant need to feed ourselves with inspiration through aesthetically pleasing and emotionally resonant pieces. In our infancy and in the absence of familiarity with the material/medium at hand, we ask: how can I make it look/sound/feel this way? The temptation to reproduce the beauty we had initially encoutered in a piece of creation. Amidst that, whilst aware of the tendency for mere reproduction, the next question beckons: what may/can I, as an instrument, lend to the process? The conversation between the medium and the artist, the material and the creator, is a precious one.
Other than an increase in screentime, there has definitely been bouts of tedium and frustration. As with picking up any language, programming or otherwise, the learning curve is so steep. But but, having said that…i am thankful for any impulse that tickles my fancy. Some days, I am exhausted by the idea of greater callings; nothing feels more important or appealing to me than to be attentive to the now.
I want nothing more than to be able explore, experiment, and create without urgency. Being carried along by the impulse to create and at the same time, looking my frustrations in the eye. I want to do this without being hastened along. I want to saunter, and meander.
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J got me something 2 weeks ago — a little kit that would allow the mobile phone's camera to function as a macro lens, and also as a microscope. It's amazing how we're able to see in such detail with these small lenses. Not to the depth of a cell nucleus of course...but good enough. The zooming in.
(These images are blur because i don’t have a built-in stabilizer in me…but they are the close up of the flowers of a plant we have at home, and a seed pod from a tree in the neighbourhood.)
I really appreciate every opportunity to see the world in new ways and the people who continuously push this boundary in curious ways. J got this days after our conversation about fractals in nature — a pattern that the laws of nature repeat at different scales. The snowflake, the way a tree branches, river deltas, growth spirals. Sound fractals. Maybe you will have some fun with this Mandelbrot explorer here, it is quite delightful (:
You know, boredom is essentially a declaration: I've seen everything there is to see. We all get bored, sometimes, but I hope we always recover our abilities to see. And that our sense of wonder is always and perpetually renewed. I am an idealist at heart: I believe that there is a vitality that will perfume all the work that we choose to do, all the endeavours we choose to partake in should we be a wholeheartedly attentive participant. I believe that the maker is also the material, shaped by the process of creation.
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The weekend that just passed was quite cold and also very sunny. The canals are finally open for skating, frozen sufficiently and so safe enough. I had a lot of fun and I am enjoying winter more than I think I would. 3 cheers for fresh air and blue sky days. Yay (:
I hope you, my friend, are doing well too.
This is your assignment.
Feel all the things. Feel the hard things. The inexplicable things, the things that make you disavow humanity’s capacity for redemption. Feel all the maddening paradoxes. Feel overwhelmed, crazy. Feel uncertain. Feel angry. Feel afraid. Feel powerless. Feel frozen. And then FOCUS.
Pick up your pen. Pick up your paintbrush. Pick up your damn chin. Put your two calloused hands on the turntables, in the clay, on the strings. Get behind the camera. Look for that pinprick of light. Look for the truth (yes, it is a thing—it still exists.)
Focus on that light. Enlarge it. Reveal the fierce urgency of now. Reveal how shattered we are, how capable of being repaired. But don’t lament the break. Nothing new would be built if things were never broken. A wise man once said: there’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in. Get after that light.
This is your assignment.
—Wendy MacNaughton, Courtney E. Martin
Thank you for reading this, it means alot to me to know that there is someone on the receiving end; as much as I write for myself, I also write for you. I hope this has enriched your life in one way or another. Feel free to reach out, drop a note, or something. I’m here, promise [:
If you know another kindred soul who may enjoy this, do spread the word. There is much weaving to be done.