Here's to my trial run as an artist-scientist (from my current writing efforts), an account of my attempt at research before I went to medical school: Luckily, another job opportunity came along. Luckily, I say, for me. I can't say the same for my boss. It's possible that the collapse of her lab and her subsequent departure into administration was a direct result of her undiscriminating choice of research assistants such as myself. The lab was ugly. Such places are made for scientists, meaning that they contain no drapes, sofas, art prints, or nice rugs.
I’m interested in the idea of trash–how we humans deal (or refuse to deal) with waste. At Djerassi there are many gorgeous and interesting art installations that are numbered and mapped for viewing. I want to focus on what is discarded here.
the idea of trash–how we humans deal (or refuse to deal) with waste. At Djerassi there are many gorgeous and interesting art installations that are numbered and mapped for viewing. I want to focus on what is discarded here.
Last night a conversation emerged among a group of Djerassi residents about our feelings on cross-disciplinary interactions—especially between the arts and sciences. Each of us was chosen to be here due to our interdisciplinary background so it is not a surprise that we advocate interaction. Furthermore, there was general dissatisfaction with the current level of interaction we see in the fields in which we participate.
What is writing the story of one’s life if not a diagnostic exercise? We look at patterns, discard what’s irrelevant, and go through the old charts looking for early hints of trouble we’d once overlooked. The best diagnosticians see the whole picture, and within that picture discern connections that others have missed.