Sunday, October 30, 2011
My hair looks like this already. I need a trim. If I had a yellow jumpsuit, I'd be April O'Neil. Except I have a laptop, not a mic.
This came from the TEDTalk "What we learned from 5 million books" by Jean-Baptiste Michel and Erez Lieberman Aiden at TEDxBoston. The data are real.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
I am become more aware of how technology and the availability of content are changing me. It is getting harder to sit still. Or have no sounds coming into my ear. I crave information instantly, in shorter bites. What scares me is the day may come when I can no longer spend long hours painting. Then again, I've been listening to one podcast after another as I work.
I know that I still have my sense of wonder intact, but as my standards get higher, I'm afraid that one day I might not be able to meet them.
It's time to change. As I attempt to evolve my art, I am trying to teach myself a new visual language. It doesn't look good yet, so it will be a good while before I show anything. But I think I'm on to something. Just wait.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
I don't necessarily agree with all the lyrics, but the son of the queen's chaplain nails it.
One of the more fascinating TEDTalks I've seen lately.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
I wouldn't call it breathtaking—not early in the afternoon at least—but there was something unnervingly magical about the Dalmaji district of Busan. The description of the road, however, is breathtaking for the wrong reasons: “The Dalmaji Road is the 15 curves road along the coastline scenery from Mt. Wawoo leading to the Songjeong Beach beyond the Haeundae Beach and the evening moonviewing at this place is beautiful beyond belief and it is one of the Eight Exquisite Beautiful Scenes of Korea.”
Starting from the top of the hill dotted by cafes and wedding photography studios, I worked my way down and only realized that I had missed the very thing I had gone there for when I got to the low end of the stretch. I walked back uphill into the side street for the art galleries and came down again until I returned to the beach.
I just had enough time to lose myself but never quite get lost, thanks to the streetside map that I took a photo of. I stumbled on the asphalt and scratched my palm, with only the incline to blame.
There were some interesting pieces and spaces. I only wish I had someone to discuss them with. I suppose that loneliness lent to the romance of the place. All of it still lives in my head.