Today what I write is neither about science nor writing, but I have been thinking about it off and on all day, that ancient question of good and evil and why/how one or the other of them rises, unstoppable, a tidal wave. Part of the reason is that today I worked on a section of my novel that takes place just before the outbreak of WW2 when Hitler rose to power, but it is also because of what is currently happening in the news.
I had a moment of terror yesterday.
Jump to schedule of events.
Join Leonardo/ISAST at the annual SIGGRAPH conference this year!
Once a year Leonardo publishes the SIGGRAPH journal issue, which is the result of an ongoing collaboration between Leonardo and ACM SIGGRAPH to showcase the community of artists, designers, and scholars working with computer graphics and interactive technologies.
Even though I think I know all about it, a really solid grasp of the distinction between the additive and subtractive primary colors and their separate, nuanced properties can feel just beyond my reach. We tend to work preferentially in one or other of the color spheres, depending on our metier. I’ve decided to explore color by painting wooden blocks. These blocks I’ll paint will have one face with a color from CYMK (cyan|magneta|yellow|black) and one face from RGB (red|green|blue) color space.
“Artistic creation is a voyage into the unknown,” says the writer Peter Turchi in his book Maps of the Imagination: The Writer as Cartographer. “In our own eyes, we are off the map.
As one of the world’s most time-honoured and leading platforms for art, science and technology, Leonardo is being singled out for recognition by the Prix Ars Electronica with a 2018 Golden Nica. Congratulations to all winners! Since the announcement, the Leonardo community has continued to explore and reimagine what the next 50 years of art, science, and technology look like.
Today, the tenth day of my residency here on the Ranch, and I have been transported back to my childhood.
It is the smell of the sun on the earth, I think, reminding me of those endless summer days staring at insects, playing tether ball, dreaming in the crook of my front yard tree. I spun long, epic tales that I cannot now remember, then climbed down the tree and swept the hearth to make dinner for my dolls.
Summer lasted so long then; a day lasted so long.
Waking to strong offshore breezes, I created a new photographic work, mindful of Nick's observation in The Great Gatsby that "... man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation ... face to face with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder."