"So what’s it like to be me? You can ask yourself, 'What’s it like to be me?' You know, the only way we’ll ever know what it’s like to be you is if you work your best at being you as often as you can, and keep reminding yourself: That’s where home is." - Bill Murray
Originally I was going to write something about nanotechnology - some interesting things going on in that area lately. But I've also come across other fascinating information regarding miniature and microscopic worlds. What got me started on this train of thought is this:
This is not a real community, but one artificially constructed by the man below.
Yes, that is singer Rod Stewart with the model train set up he built.
What is behind the drive to build these miniature worlds? Some modelers apparently strive for a detailed recreation of a real place and time, while others seem to enjoy developing unique worlds for their small trains to inhabit. The idea of building these worlds extend far beyond train sets and is linked to childhood. Psychologists use a technique called sandplay with younger clients to assess their emotional states. The technique is simple; children get to play on a large table or tray set up with sand, often water, and miniature houses, buildings, people, and other everyday items. What kind of world the children create give psychologists clues to how these children view their world.
There's no small element of control involved in building these scenes. Our friend Rod above has built a finely-detailed world of his own - looks to be New York City circa 1940s - that he alone controls. To put it another way, the trains run on Rod's timetable, and only his.
Writers have long known the power of building their own realities and playing God with their creations. George R.R. Martin seems to take devilish glee in reminding fans that no characters in his Game of Thrones novels are safe as long as he controls their fates. Plenty of authors have also taken joy in working in miniature - from folk tales full of "little people", Mary Norton's The Borrowers,Smurfs, gnomes, and the like, to Johnathan Swift's land of the Lilliputians from Gulliver's Travels:
This idea of control and the power to alter reality to one's own liking is part of what drives some artists to specialize in constructing miniature worlds - not real-life models - to their own liking. It can work as therapy for adults as well - as this story from PBS NewsHour clearly demonstrates:
For artists constructing these worlds, some are fantastical, others realistic. Some represent the world as it should be, others are worlds that should never be. Many are whimsical, thoughtful, political, or insightful, but all are beautiful in their own ways and push the idea of what existence is and what it could be:
From Wired magazine: Adrien Broom, Centered. Image: the artist and Ronchini Gallery
Mat Collishaw, “The Garden of Unearthly Delights” (2009) (Courtesy of Merderme)
From Mymodernmet.com: "Architect and photographer William Kass has created a lovely series called Minimize, where he takes miniature toy figures and places them in the regular world. His sweet compositions include men fishing for sushi to a ballerina dancing in a fanciful fountain of a shower head. True to form, each of his photos are more whimsical than the last."
Again from Mymodernmet.com: "Perhaps there is no greater artist out there who can create such believable worlds than Matthew Albanese. For the last five years, Albanese has been meticulously making these highly detailed models for his series called Strange Worlds. “When I was young I was always very, very obsessed with movie miniatures and movie magic and things of small scale,” he told Flickr. One of the most mesmerizing shots is of a lightning storm over a lake. Albanese used a piece of plexiglas, painted black, and etched bolts of lightning on it so that light could dramatically flash through.
Again from Wired: Thomas Doyle, Coming From Where We're Going. "From a distance his works looks like a miniature depiction of the American Dream, but upon further inspection, the disorder in his worlds is evident" . Image: the artist and Ronchini Gallery
Lastly, from Mymodernmet: "Un Petit Monde is the name of the series Kurt Moses has created where he arranges tiny people in a larger-than-life world. Moses does not use tilt-shit photography or Photoshop, rather, he sets up his everyday scenes in the real world using natural light. The photographer, hailing from St. Paul, Minnesota, loves telling stories through his works, which he wants others to help him actively create. 'My goal is simple,' he says, 'initiate a storyline and capture an evocative photo that allows the viewer to draw their own conclusions about the scenes they are observing.'”
It is easy sometimes these days, in our modern Western world, the importance of foot travel both historically and culturally. In England, it was considered a given that historic footpaths give the public the right to traverse private property. Footpaths (and bridlepaths for horseback riding) are mentioned in an 1835 highway bill, but in England these paths are considered to be hundreds of years older than that - some tracking their lineage to the occupation of Roman troops. These paths have long been guides to human movement - showing the human ingenuity of finding the more direct route past obstacles in the quest to get to the desired goal.
In literature footpaths have long played a role as the setting for conflict. Robin Hood meets Little John on a footpath and narrow bridge spanning a river. Tess's downfall comes just off a footpath/bridlepath at the hands of Alec. Untold numbers of highway men, pilgrims, lost children and travelers found their literary fates along paths through forest and field. Poets, like Wordsworth, rambled along these humble byways, finding inspiration for their odes to nature.
Footpaths exists throughout the world and serve not only as a means for traveling from point A to point B, but as a connection to our shared past and a reminder of the simpler, but more physically challenging, lives of our ancestors. They also open a window on to a world that only those who slow down and take the time to move by foot will ever experience. But we can at least view images of those worlds until we ourselves find our own feet on the trodden path leading to... So for now - enjoy!
Photography is one of my things. I've been shooting since college days, and while most of my work - photos and negs, not to mention my equipment, was stolen with my car some years ago, I've been getting back into it lately.
Some of the work will probably make its way here eventually - and while the digital camera is very easy, I do miss the science and art of the darkroom. So many hours spent inside with the little red light, mixing chemicals, and then waiting for the film to process and the print making as unworthy print after print went into the trash.
Of course, not all early "photography" involved darkrooms - or at least, what we now think of darkrooms. One of the oldest, and oddest, yet strangely attractive, of these is the camera obscura.
The term is latin for "darkened room," which makes sense when one considers exactly how the camera obscura works. Cameras, as mechanisms, really perform a simple operation. They have some system of allowing a pinhole of light to shine on a surface - usually a light sensitive photographic plate that captures that light - and the image of the world that comes with it.
As the National Geographic reported a few years ago, Aristotle wrote about this method - minus the actual camera and photographic plate. So did Leonardo DiVinci - being DiVinci, he drew diagrams as well. But they both, and may others in between as well, described how a small hole letting light into a darkened room could project the image of the outside world onto the walls of that room.
Nice, non-DiVinci woodcut showing how a camera obscura works.
The images are what we think of as upside down - building spires and tree tops of a city skyline point toward the floor - as does the same image we see with our eyes - because of the way light is reflected. The situation with our eyes is that our brains process the images so that the sky is up and the ground is down. But since the camera obscura image is unprocessed, it remains reversed:
Central Park by Abelardo Morell (www.abelardomorell.net)
In the days before photographic plates were invented, artists and sometimes party-goers (the camera obscura was a great novelty) would line the walls of the room with tracing paper and record the projected image that way (that is what the gentleman in the above woodcut is doing). Portable versions were built as well, but they couldn't quite provide the "wow" factor of stepping into an image-filled room.
Umm... No.
Because of that "wow" factor, cameras obscura actually became an early tourist attraction, springing up in scenic locations like mountains and seasides.
Santa Monica, California's camera obscura was a semi-bargain at ten cents a visit.
The outdoors, filling the indoors in an unusual way, gives the image captured inside a meditative, dream-like quality that isn't present in today's typical photograpy. As Abelardo Morrell states in the National Geographic article, ""I want to refresh how people see the world".
Morell again with the outside images projected on paintings by Hopper on the left and not sure, maybe Roy Lichtenstein, on the right.
Nice use of the camera obscura and conventional photography
Another version of mixing photography and the camera obscura to get a dreamlike feel. Credit for both images here.
And because of its unique nature, it seems somehow natural that the term camera obscura would become the name of an indie band - and a pretty good one, too. Not really anything to do with photography - but music is another of my things, so let's end today with some music!
Today's my birthday - one of many happy returns of the day. There is a lot I could say and write, but rather, let's keep it simple - some Walt Whitman instead. Though a bit older than the 37 Whitman mentions - I actually feel a few years younger and am in perfect health - perhaps the best health of my life. Therefore, I'll let dear old Walt present my mood and thoughts in his perfect way with some selections from Song of Myself. But please take the time to read the lengthy poem - there is much in there from history to sensual sexuality. But for our purposes on this day, this will suffice:
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil,
this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and
their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never
forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy...
Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the
origin of all poems,
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are
millions of suns left,)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor
look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the
spectres in books,
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things
from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.
I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the
beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
Urge and urge and urge,
Always the procreant urge of the world.
Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always
substance and increase, always sex,
Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed
of life.
To elaborate is no avail, learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so...
There is that in me — I do not know what it is — but I know it
is in me.
Wrench'd and sweaty — calm and cool then my body becomes,
I sleep — I sleep long.
I do not know it — it is without name — it is a word unsaid,
It is not in any dictionary, utterance, symbol.
Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on,
To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes me.
Perhaps I might tell more. Outlines! I plead for my brothers
and sisters.
Do you see O my brothers and sisters?
It is not chaos or death — it is form, union, plan — it is eternal
life — it is Happiness.
The past and present wilt — I have fill'd them, emptied them,
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.
Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a
minute longer.)
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.) ...
I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.
In the late 1800s a former Civil War officer and gold prospector found himself in the difficult position of fleeing from Apaches in Arizona. After a chase on horseback, the prospector, separated from his partner, had to take refuge in a cave. What happened next became one of the most influential tales found in literature.
John Carter lost consciousness in that cave, only to awaken on the planet of Mars, a planet, in the experience provided by Edgar Rice Burroughs (yes, he of Tarzan fame), of beautiful princess and multi-armed foes. Burroughs' Martian stories, like those of Tarzan, were light on anything resembling facts, but full of rousing action and detailed depictions of a once thriving Mars, now a desiccated, dying world.
Burroughs and all those after him that used Mars as a setting for tales of science fiction and fantasy based their images of Mars on astronomical observations. As telescopes became more powerful and the optics more precise, writers describing Mars changed their versions of the Red Planet. Soon the fabulous cities of glass and jewels disappeared, and the Venice-like canals were drained of water, replaced by lonely desert landscapes and dry canyons.
It wasn't until the late 1960s with the NASA missions of the unmanned survey spacecrafts Mariners 6 & 7 that a true picture of Mars emerged - dry, hostile to human habitation, and devoid of native life. Then the science fiction stories turned away from the idea of Mars invaders and Carter-like interactions with native beings, and more to either the discovery of long-lost civilizations, as in Mission to Mars:
or stories of stranded humans struggling to survive on the remote planet as in, for example, the pretty decent film Red Planet:
Yet, despite its harshness, Mars has an almost magnetic pull for the imagination. Its the closest analog to Earth, and relatively speaking, not that far away. Yet it remains alien, but recognizable, strange-yet-familiar, and our next stop in humanity's reach for the stars. The real Mars, although lacking in cities of crystal, is very beautiful in a special way:
"I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious." -Albert Einstein
So much of the information available today on the idea of inspiration and inspiring people seems to center on the business world. Much of it comes in the form of "How to be an Inspiring Leader" kind of stuff. The problem with that, if there is indeed one, is that it assumes that there is some way to externally create inspiration. If only someone follows this recipe - 5 steps, 7 steps., 10 steps - then one can become inspiring. Its almost like saying one can become a successful business person by merely wearing the right clothing.
The trouble is, most of the truly inspiring people aren't individuals we would classify as "leaders", they tend to fall into categories such as teachers, parents, grandparents, close friends, etc. The kind of inspiration that makes us better people, that influences our lives, doesn't come from the media anointed "celebrity" leaders of the culture, but from those with whom we interact routinely and admire for strength and courage.
There is a lot of information regarding inspiration out there, and much of it good, and even more of it ridiculous. But with enough time and effort some themes seem to appear. Here are some of the most common characteristics of inspiring people - not necessarily inspiring leaders - presented in no particular order, since all are very important:
Passion - this seems to be the most cited aspect of inspiring people, and it makes perfect sense. How can one be inspiring if he or she is not inspired? Nothing motivates others like the complete devotion to pursuing a goal, from running a giant software company to raising children, one has to be all in or it doesn't work: It is the soul's duty to be loyal to its own desires. It must abandon itself to its master passion. - Rebecca West
Positivity - A positive outlook on life will help alter the negative view of others. No difficult task can be accomplished if one has doubts, or at least allows those doubts to overwhelm their outlook. We can't control all the events that occur in our lives, but inspiring people control their responses to those events - not the artificial "making lemonade" meme, but rather enduring the rain with good humor because they know there's a sunny day on the way.
The ability to socially interact with others - This always seemed a difficult task for the introverted me. But over time, I've gotten used to working with people in various settings. I've found that being positive, polite but honest, seems to work pretty well. I've got a long way to go, but inspiring people seem to have the knack of authentically connecting with others.
Empathy - Inspiring people have the ability to relate to others on a personal level - which goes with the last point. The ability to listen to, and understand, others is essential in making an impact on the lives of other people.
The strength of character to stay authentic and follow their own paths - Often the stories we most find inspiring is those of people who followed their own paths, sometimes against great odds and criticism, to reach their goals. The thing many people forget is that the "triumph over adversity" often involves a tremendous amount of adversity lasting for years and years. The perseverance and will it takes to keep true to oneself in the darkest of times is what really inspires. It is so much easier in life to blend in with the sheep instead of standing out like the tiger, to bend to the will of groupthink; but would William Blake write a poem like this to sheep?
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Shakespeare's St. Crispin's Day speech from Henry V is often regarded as the template for inspiring talks - it has likely been adapted by almost every football coach in history at one point or another. Here's Kenneth Branagh's Henry V trying to inspire his troops before facing the five-men-to-one odds at Agincourt. Let's see how Shakespeare's Henry embodies the points above:
Finally - tying to be inspiring won't work. Working to be your own unique person will itself inspire others:
"Be yourself--not your idea of what you think somebody else's idea of yourself should be." --Henry David Thoreau
In 1880 a publication called Philosophical Magazine and Journal of Science published an article called On the Diagrammatic and Mechanical Representation of Propositions and Reasonings.
No one probably noticed at the time - it was a relatively obscure publication in a crowed field - but the boon for and bane of visual learners was given birth in that article.
It was in that publication that John Venn, born this day 180 years ago, gave the world his famous diagram. The diagram, usually shown as intersecting circles with data inside, is a way of visually organizing the logical relationship of those datum. The unique thing is that over time the Venn diagram, originally contained within the mathematical fields, has spread to be one of the few tools to cross disciplines effectively. We are all familiar with this sort of thing from our high school math days:
Circular logic!
In English, we inflict this sort of thing on our students:
It's supposed to make things clearer!
For visual learners struggling with the concepts involved with sometimes abstraction relationships between sets of data, the Venn diagram can help clarify things greatly. Sometimes in a surprising way - from the factual to the fanciful:
Thrilling!
Clarity is a must at times like these!
And Venn has made his impact in popular culture with this touching and bittersweet diagram from John Green's bestseller The Fault in Our Stars:
Yes, you can start crying now.
As silly as some of these seem - they can begin the process of seeing relationships between diverse things. Looking for similarities and where points diverge - building patterns - all made much clearer with circles and intersections. So thanks, John Venn, for the diagram that launched a thousand homework assignments - and helping out visually oriented learners like me. Google has also paid tribute to Venn, and I am happy to add my appreciation as well. Happy Birthday, John!
