• A sensory depravation chamber
• Frumpy (to some), knit cardigan
• Very tight, clearly manufactured curls
• Givenchy
• Being uncomfortable with inherited wealth
• Falling on the floor
• Meeting Tony in a dream and then in the principal’s office
• DNA
• Smoking a cigarette
• Passing a baby to your mother
• Being in a plane to New York
• Pulling hair out of your beehive to frame your face, but only your right-hand side
• Budweiser and champagne
• Being taller than average
• Shipped over from LA
• A small tattoo on your back, by your right shoulder-blade
• A wide kitchen table
• A solitary viewpoint, through which action moves
• Linoleum
• English weather
• Humiliating your daughter
• Making a sandwich
• Empty threats
• Empty threats manifesting (!)
• A gold-coloured chain with a Venus symbol being worn as necklace

…on a Monday.

How was the week? Busy, but feeling more manageable at last. Sort of like I have a blindfold on – first two weeks I was grabbing at empty air, but now I have my hands on something. No idea what it is, but I have it by the edges.

I loved the post about New Zealand’s rivers, and it reminded me of this. The Tree That Owns Itself (capitals, please) lives in Georgia, USA. The history is shrouded in mystery but the generally-accepted story is that it was given its independence in the early 1800s by one Williams Henry Jackson. The deed read:

I, W. H. Jackson, of the county of Clarke, of the one part, and the oak tree … of the county of Clarke, of the other part: Witnesseth, That the said W. H. Jackson for and in consideration of the great affection which he bears said tree, and his great desire to see it protected has conveyed, and by these presents do convey unto the said oak tree entire possession of itself and of all land within eight feet of it on all sides.

The legalities since are boring and take all the fun out of it, but the story has given the people of Athens, Georgia an enormous amount of respect for the Tree’s autonomy which is really what matters most.

via Wikipedia 

At the bottom of the article I found a link to a page on plant rights which is fascinating enough on its own, but also makes reference to the river. How tidy.

A question: what exactly is post-humanities?

Also: I’ve hired my dad. I mean, that’s generous – I’m making him read Bogost too. It’s a bit cruel but he studied science, so I’m curious to see how a brain that learnt from that perspective interprets that reading. Perhaps he has less of an impulse to attach a narrative, and I can learn something about interpreting data in other ways from him.

And did I watch my movie? I did. I watched Bring It On and had a lovely time.

• Ask questions of my peers, mentors and myself
o Make comments on three peer blogs
o Make a comment on each of my posts AT LEAST 24 hrs after I’ve posted it, reassessing it
o Write at least one thing down on the brown paper to ask Adrian
• Work through problems and fears
o In my soundscape group, take one task that’s outside of my “skillset”
• Communicate where I’m at, what I’m doing, what I aim to do
o Write a summary blog post on Sunday night of how the week went overall, in & out of class
• Self-care
o Watch at least one fun, dumb movie
• Be interested in what I’m doing. Get excited, be curious
o Write a blog post, also on Sunday, about everything that caught your eye / ear during the week, in or out of class. What would you like to learn more about?

On how (almost uncomfortably) inevitable and detailed it is:

And some stray, written thoughts:

• “A geography of what happens” – how everyday life emerges: rhythms, agency, illogicality
• Pockets – look for space to open, look for that pregnant pause and what it will / might mean
• Worlding – it feels like non-verbal, almost collective unconscious type stuff, that we all pick up on as a sign or an excuse to create what we’re going to be and how we’re going to live in our own atmosphere
• Is it possible to pick up on this minutiae if you don’t know the place? Or can you guess the subject from its shadow in spite of never having seen it?
  • Is there something more to it? Will you notice things – that are or aren’t there – simply because of the lens you look through?
• “Atmospheric life”  and attunement. Is it deliberate? Sort of, but not really. More instinctual
• It all seems depressingly inevitable…
• …Attunements lead naturally to other specific attunements – you notice things others wouldn’t because you’re in that space, on that path

 

Lists of objects without explication can do the philosophical work of drawing our attention toward them with greater attentiveness.

Let’s work on definitions first.

• “Lists of objects without explication”
  • Explication is, according to Google, “the process of analysing and developing an idea or principle in detail”
  • So, a list of objects without explication is a list of objects cobbled together without proper thought
  • But what is an object, for that matter? Are we talking about literal, physical things? Surely not; that’s so narrow
  • An object can be defined in two ways: “a material thing that can be seen and touched” or “a person or thing to which a specified action or feeling is directed”. Both very interesting and very different in this context. I wonder
• “Philosophical work”:
  • How is that different to regular work?
  • Philosophical: “relating or devoted to the study of the fundamental nature of knowledge, reality, and existence”
  • Work: “activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a result” or “a task or tasks to be undertaken”
  • Philosophical work, then, is effort undertaken to further knowledge
• “Philosophical work of drawing our attention toward them”:
  • Does the notion of philosophical work, as defined above, still make sense in this context?
  • I’m getting a little stuck on the necessity of the word philosophical and how it changes the sentence — what am I missing here? I would
  • Question to ask in class (or I’ll ask it now if you’re reading and wouldn’t mind commenting, Adrian): what makes philosophical work different from regular effort?
• “Greater attentiveness”:
  • Attentiveness: “the action of paying close attention to something”
  • Straightforward, and in context implying that less attention could be payed in other situations

This is my interpretation so far. There’s a lot to untangle but, if I were to rephrase it, my version of the question posed would look like this:

Vague lists of stuff make you pay more attention

My next two questions, which will probably make up the bulk of my essay, are therefore:

Really? Why?

And how is this going to relate to my soundscape? I hope we do get the extra week to think about that, because I’d really like to have a finished product to think about than a hypothetical.

This is a question that’s bothered me since the first day of my media degree. Not necessarily in a bad way; it’s pestered me, like a small, adorable, irritating child. Something I struggle with (and talk about ad nauseam) is the fact that I don’t want to be a filmmaker in a degree that is heavily skewed towards that craft. I chose Media over PR or journalism or even an Arts degree because I wanted to get my hands dirty. I wanted to be up to my elbows in making — which I’m not very good at, as I’ve said. But I felt like I needed to understand the practice to be a better communicator. I still do.

This is where I start to feel awkward. How can I, then, feel like I have the right to criticise my peers’ work when I’m not really, actively engaged in it like they are? But, on the other hand, how can I not? My ultimate goal is to be in cultural management, getting the good shit out to the public. I need to be able to assess what that good shit actually looks like.

It’s something I don’t have an answer to. I think it’s the critic’s curse (more realistically: the low-level creative grant approver’s curse). I sit there and judge, thinking simultaneously: “how dare I” and “but I’m right”.

Maybe the only way to avoid hypocrisy is to critique work based on its ability to communicate: a message, an emotion, an atmosphere, a colour. If I can engage with the work (or not engage at all, if that’s the point) then I can at least assess it against a criteria that’s fair, since I’m also assessed on my ability to clearly communicate. I mean, I don’t pretend to be the kind of expert who has to deal with anything scarier and more specific; I love her and want desperately to be her, but Margaret Pomeranz I am not (yet). For now, I’ll make my peace with that.

Last week, I was quite unwell. I’ve been thinking about it,

Day Negative One

• I feel weird. I am lethargic and grumpy

Day One

• 6.00am – wake up with a sore throat. It’s right in that little dip of my neck. It’s an inconvenience and I know it could mean getting a bit sick… but nothing yet
• 6.00-10.00am – lethargy. Not atypical for the morning. Sore throat isn’t much better – nor helped by getting an iced latte, which was an idiot move. Back to bed
• 11.30am – feeling better, but wary. Head to Coles and stock up on vitamin C: a juice, a whole thing of blackberries, two nectarines
• 12.30pm – Throat is sore, and not appreciating the sensation of food travelling through. Weird metallic taste in my mouth, like childhood tonsillitis. This does not bode well
• ??? – fall asleep trying to watch movie for cinema class. Why did I watch it in bed?
• 1.40pm – wake up, disoriented and gross. Film isn’t over but it’s time to gI’ve up. Very lethargic, shoulders sore
• 3.30pm – pass out under the air conditioner
• 6.00pm – wake up to dog barking at passerby. Fair enough. Feeling extremely dehydrated, threat sore, sniffly and sneezy, shoulders aching. Dose up on psuedoephodrine (can’t spell that)
• 6.30pm – feeling fantastic
• 8.00pm – sleep. Comes easily. Lots of Vicks Vaporub

Day Two

• 10.30am – wake up to dog barking to be let out. Fair enough. Discover I’ve left the air con on all night. Terrible disaster.
• 10.32am – remember I’m sick. Feel better than last night
• 11.00am – Am I actually getting better? Spend day meandering round the house, getting bits off assignment done
• 1.30pm approx – sneeze into dough I’m making. It’s gross. Maybe not as well as I’d hoped
• 4.00pm – definitely not.
• 8.40pm – decide to make it an early night again. Actually fall asleep around this time, which must mean I’m pretty bad since I went to sleep so early the night before

Day Three

• 10.00am – wake up. Download that phone game where you match the dots to make them disappear. It’s actually pretty good. I really like the music
• 11.00am – actually get out of bed.
• 11.30am-3.00pm: mess around with finishing touches for assignment. Turns out found footage is really laborious. Who knew? (Everybody knew.)
• 3.00pm – you know what I deserve? An episode of Downton Abbey
• 7.00pm – Downton‘s such a great show
• 7.15pm – notice that I don’t actually feel that bad any more. The wellness crept up on me. Eat and actually enjoy dinner, and I’m glad because it’s sushi from that nice place down the road
• 11.45pm – submit assignment. The upload is not fast.
• 11.46pm – shit, did I forget to put a title in?
• 1.00pm – bed, bed, bed

Day Four

• 7.30am – I wake up and discover I am a functioning, healthy human once again