So I actually had to spend some time doing work and grading for my courses :) and… some detail work on the Flinders project.  I don’t know how I didn’t notice that I placed the keyboard upside down.  Now I have to reshoot those sections.

Crikey, I need a massaging chair and I’m gonna go blind from being in front of the computer all of my waking hours.

I have been trying to keep up with the background work of going through the META and Elaborate categories.  I haven’t had the brain power to elaborate much but at least have reorganized some of the posts and other categories.   This is full time work… really. I wish I could do a find and replace on the whole blog for those damned additional charactes that are showing up on the imported posts.

Still, it’s fine.  I actually feel like the gears in my mind are able to turn without grinding finally. Just have to wait until they develop some more momentum.

And… because I’ve been able to think a little bit, may have zeroed in on what to do for the TSC 2010 proposal.

DNAMemory, originally uploaded by XhyraGraf.

Family…

I love them. It reminds me of why it is important to sift through the crap I’ve collected over the years to make sure I unearth and keep what is good and strong about the genes, therefore kind of mind, I’ve been given.

The world would have me change. That is supposed to be a part of growing up… but who says? What if you were perfect in the beginning and the work of change is really to keep that foundation strong as you maneuver through change, so tht the change is purposeful and not abitrarily assigned.

The world would have me succumb to the vagaries of chance… but why should this be so? There is a thing that keeps the planets in orbit that makes the universe do whatever it is that it does as opposed to what we may think we know it is doing. Does it not make more sense to try to sift through the debris that allows itself to be flung about and center myself on this truly central and stable thing? Does it make sense to grab hold of a tether attached to a flailing, uncertain set of things that are they themselves searching for firm foundations.

I see it all around me… those that act strong and knowledgeable but are really suffused in the stench of uncertainty and looking for a sign. I smell their fear… I know why it is there. Is it not obvious that the certainty they believe they have is just another straw frantically grabbed in the frightening state that is existence born of an uncertainty innately fixed in the very fact that we are finite beings?

Yet I am the one that is accused of being fearful… because I choose to believe something. Of course I am afraid. Fear is not escapable. To not be afraid is to be ignorant and a fool. Acceptance of your place in the reality of things is the only solution to a bit of abatement in the sufffocation that comes with being a speck of infinitesimally small clusters of temporarily enmeshed bits of we don’t know what in a vast, vast universe.

Am I to assuage my fear with the strung together thoughts and words of other beings swimming around aimlessly in the agar… multiplying, spreading, consuming, destroying and ultimately dying?  Should I not hold on to pure moments of being who I am and instead listen to the yammerings of a people just as lost as I they believe me to be?  They say I am holding on to a faith that is external to me and believing in something that I was taught without question… the more polite let slide through smiling though judgemental and hypocritical lips that well, maybe is has not been enough questioning.

All of these things, all of these things said would have some weight, if… I were taught, if I did not come to my conclusions through my own hard won effort, if I had not always looked upon everyone else as ”those who knew nothing more than I do.”  If I have ever listened to anyone other than myself in those moments of my existence that I hold as pure.  I can never remember a time when I looked upon another person and thought to myself, “this one, this one has some knowledge that I may not be able to access on my own.”

The concept of living an unquestioned belief simply does not apply to someone who remembers coming in to the world at least knowing how to find the way and has been trying to build the dam against the deluge of forgetfulness.  These things only have the weight that they do because I allowed myself to become weak… I have been beaten down by this mundane and entrapped version of an existence… and forgotten who I am, that I am, in the moments that I AM.   I forgot to keep the dam fortified because I became fascinated by it all; or rather stuck in the spin of this version of embeddedness am now attached to being here… I know the effort it will take to let go of the attachment and allow myself to surrender to the greater spin. I no longer believe that I am capable of it… so much so that I face the possibility of being stuck in this circle.  THIS CANNOT BE ALLOWED.  I have to find the strength.

An unquestioned belief makes no sense in my situation, I have always questioned this place and the things in it-there is something wrong with a place where life is difficult for someone like me; that can… could do the things I could.  I’ve questioned, if only a version of “and who may you be? What would make you have the answers that I seek? Why would this be when I can see/sense whole things, including that stench of fear, while you can only see parts? How would you then be able to tell me what is truth when you have to give pause and effort to arrive at the solution to the most obvious and simple of things.”  It is then I arrive at the deeper knowing. It is my pride.  It is my pride.  And why do I have this pride?  I know it is probably why I suffer this and continue to suffer this… thisness.  It is my pride that makes me bristle when someone tries to tell me how or when to do things. It is my pride that makes me have to clamp down on the animal when someone who has put his trust in other people’s version of the world attempts to convince me that my version is bereft of truth or substance.  And… I have become attached to my position of holding fast to and defending the memory of myself.  And… a memory is just that, not the real version of me.  The real version of me is lost, here in the battle.

I have to let go of this pride or I will be continue to be lost, trying to prove myself to a people I deep down believe are also lost.  I feel that I am become one of them; lost here… in this impoverished existence.

MindSpace III, originally uploaded by XhyraGraf.

Morning the first day of her 31st year-Kenmore, Scotland:

As she quietly contemplated the water in the loch, something familiar caught her eye.

“Well here it is,” she thought. “Right here in this moment.”

Extending herself into the stillness caused her yet unmoved gaze upon this thing … this infinitely present thing … to also widen across the waters

“Here is all the proof you need for the existence of God.”

With new resolve, she allowed the moment to pass and moved away from the reflection of her being.

Veterans Sculpture Draft, originally uploaded by XhyraGraf.

Made in Second Life and completely digital.

Let me preface this by saying that I adore the military.  I have a special admiration for the people that defend and enforce our freedoms; including all the guards, the police, the swat team, I especially love the marines and lets add the FBI and yes, firemen* to the group.

But… I have never been so unmotivated to do something in my life. Worse than… starting to exercise again because I know the worst of the pain will be my disappointment and being demoralized about how out of shape I’ve allowed myself to become. [Note: I'm used to physical pain. I took ballet for crying out loud.]

It’s just that they gave directions, no… specifications, no… a directive. The surest way of not getting me to do something is to tell me how you want me to or think I should do it. [Note: and the budget is way too low for a sculpture, especiallyone they want finished by THIS veteran's day.]

The directive read, and I quote, “The desired work should include a depiction of a war veteran in uniform, a child, and a wife (mother). Work must be representational in nature.” So besides not being able to present my wonderfully expensive ideas about interactive, solar powered and updateable sculpture with light sensitive and/or switchable glass that can be used for projection of the databased information having to do with the actual families [and, of course, their loved ones in the military] from the surrounding cities** – my hackles rose. Because 1.) it was just too specific for me, Ugh! and 2.) I [yes, I have issues] I immediately got the image of a Stepford wife from this description. Could they have said “family” or “community” or “home” or frickin’ anything else and not been so specific? Are there not war veterans in uniform that are female?

So, I think I’ve managed to circumvent my issues. The woman is in uniform. I was graciously given some images by a female student who spent 5 years on active duty in Iraq and Afghanistan. She’s a beautiful girl. I admit to being surprised when she told me she was in the military. [Hey, I can admit my failings] She told me the story of when she went to a bar with a bunch of male soldiers who were happy to go with her because she had actually seen action where they had not. Only to have a citizen buy a round for all of them in honor of their service…except for her.

Here’s hoping the committee can really imagine what this will look like in metal.

* firepeople?
**Yes, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I love the military because “they stand on a wall and say nothing will hurt you tonight, not on my watch” and because I really can “handle the truth” – Really. As subversive as I am, um… as I seem to be, I believe in discipline. Most of America needs a good spanking. OK, maybe not discipline as serious as a code red.

Ugly unedited video from Flinders Island. Beginning work on rerecording with a female avatar, editing the narration and adding more of the program interface.  

I’ll be sending some nice still images to Dr. McIntyre for possible use at an emerging technologies meeting at Flinders.  Hopefully, if and when we get to move forward to the full project I will work on the web interface of the software.  Something almost ready for use [really, I'm good-knew nothing about database conversion before this and the web stuff is easy but tedious] and a bonus for them since currently it is only able to be used with MS Access.

Ah well, at least the area is open, Janet [Dr. McIntyre] has visited it and she likes it. Now it’s a survey of two

And… I am motivated again.

Note: Have to say MarChrist looks more Maori than Aborigine.  I’ll have to see what I can do about the new avatar.

Flinders PtW, originally uploaded by XhyraGraf.

They opened up the Social Sciences section of the island today… I took a poll of one the result was that the environment is calming.  This is a good thing

I need a place like this to go and sit for a while.

It’s hard work; and simply because I haven’t been doing it regularly.  Going through all this information is tiring. It’s like a realigning of my ability to think and… it’s somewhat depressing.  [I still remember being moved to tears as I found it difficult to read and understand my own papers while preparing to go to Hong Kong.]

On top of fixing all of the little mostly technical things [like those &$$#@(%! characters that were added in because of the upgrade] it just been difficult to wade through this stuff.   I think I gave the perfect description when I said I feel like Michelangelo unable to strike the marble without cracking it – like a dancer who hasn’t danced for a very long time.  Still,  I give myself props for actually doing it.

And…  I give myself props because the pictures actually help to ground me in what I was thinking at the time.  Yay! I’ve proved my theory of art as external memory aids to metacognition – if only to myself.  It feels like the internet/techie version of the process for the MarChrist Collection where I take something old and almost useless [Yahoo sucks! Wordpress rules!] and try to make into something completely new and relevant to where I am now.  I’m indulging that part of my personality that doesn;t believe in throwing things out, that believes there are always lessons to be learned from past thoughts and experiences, that it is important to go back and clarify yourself against the measure of yourself at a previous time – even if it may distort the memories, lol.

Then again this also serves as documentation – as long as I’m honest – of the past thoughts and memories of them.

Will go through some of the ‘pending review’ tomorrow.

Just a short note today:

It’s important for me to remember that I believe that all of these “disparate” topics* are important to the ‘why’ of consciousness – they are all an integral part in answering the question of what kind of functional necessity causes consciousness… in the way that most people mean.

*CPREA paper plus the underlying biophysics.

So, in a sense I trained myself to read by recognising patterns and derived meaning from those patterns. That causes me to come upon the problem of how it possible for language to allow us to communicate while remaining intrinsically error-laden. As usual [for me] the problem and solution are best exemplified with art – the artmaking process vs. the art viewing process. The artmaker being the pattern maker and the art viewer being the pattern user.

The difference between the pattern makers and the pattern users:

The Pattern Maker: understands [hopefully in an aware manner but not necessarily] that the pattern is a representation that may not fit every situation and continues to make patterns through two avenues.  Either to make more [distinctive versions of] patterns/representations so they be come intricately linked to the varieties of meaning meant to be expressed or make less [broader, general] patterns/representations that are given meaning within the context of the situation in which they are presented. [So, let's say it is possible that there may be a combination of both methods and also discarding or substantially modifying a pattern. I want to focus on these two options maybe.]

The Pattern User: [Seems I am having a problem delineating just what a pattern user does] So, I’m going to have to post this as another! thing I add to the Elaborate category.  Just the note: they either decide they need a pattern and go looking ofor one or come upon it by accident usually with a visceral response akin to ‘the pattern is or will be useful to me somehow” which is akin to interest, which is a problem.  This refers to art and aesthetics – don’t think anyone approaches art in a truly disinterested manner anymore.  Unless it’s by surprise.  An aesthetic response that has as a portion ‘disinterestedness’ probably only happens in nature. 

Other note: reread the toolmaker’s paradigm article. I need that todo list plugin…

Read: this post

I’ve moved the Xhyra Graf/Second Life/Journal type entries to The Xhyra Graf.  Supposedly this will alllow me to use this as a more “professional” website. LOL. 

I’ll try to keep this blog about the academic stuff and actual real life artwork having to do with philosophy and consciousness; the Second Life documentary pictures, etc. of Xhyra will go on the other blog. I suppose the Flinders work will be here. 

Everything’s been moved… so now I get to go about deleting all the things that will be on the other blog.

Yeah, we’ll see how this works out.  It’s going to be a little difficult [I think] to work this out cleanly.

*******Just a note: This is leaving the blog somewhat bare.  However, it should make sure that I am forced to blog daily about something academic [yeah, like work toward my PhD] or face self-reproach.

*******So I give my self the task of doing one elaborate/META [add to that a few of the 85+  posts placed on 'pending review status'] and one new post per day… The following post seemed to serve the purpose of grounding me after I read it yesterday so I’m moving it from the Elaborate category to META – Should I just make art & pray?

*******And, Duh!  organizing means that these things have to be organized under the subcategories of ‘Phd’