A Few Old Little Ideas
I just found a many-years-old list on my hard drive called ‘Ideas,’ most of which I remember coming up with.
As I went through it, a few of the ‘computer art’ ones seemed doable pretty quickly, so I did them as a lark and they’re included inline here.
The rest aren’t quite as interesting to me as the things on which I currently want to spend my free time, so I’m brain-dumping these into Tumblr for something’s sake.
- use the four-up mode in PhotoBooth to replicate the ‘Brady Bunch’ opening credits
- take an album’s song’s ratings in iTunes and turn them into a treadmill elevation pattern that I have to run while listening to the given album
- GIF: keep typing number signs on the iPhone dialing keypad to make a fence that gets further and further away
- GIF: an emoji heart in a text document, use the OS X Find Text highlighter, and keep finding it to make it beat — DONE!
- a photo of somebody dangling off a cliff, with a dialog box saying ‘Save’ and ‘Don’t Save’
- icons of figure skaters that ‘skate across the ice’ when you scroll through Finder’s Cover Flow view — DONE!
- use Finder’s QuickLook with custom MP3s, moving up and down to make a song
- a rainbow of icons in the OS X app switcher — DONE!
- iPhoto event mouseover flipbook
- Facebook photo album flipbook: take photos that form an animation, arrange them in order, and then hold down the arrow key while viewing the album in Facebook.
- rotate a PDF of a newspaper in Preview to imitate the ‘Extra! Extra!’ spinning newspaper animation — DONE!
- audio installation where attendees receive microphone earrings that randomly feed into a house system to present random bits of dialog
- iTunes zebra: a script that takes two albums and makes playlist that alternates their tracks
- series of shaken, unexposed Polaroids
- photo of people holding printed-out parts of a lens flare at the right angles
- Photoshop people into shoes hung over telephone wires
- one photo per day for a year of the same subject, but at a different time of day each day; adding 3.9 minutes to the photo-taking time each day to get 365 of them divided into a 24-hour period
- last shots: pictures of the camera about to be destroyed (falling off of a cliff, the bottom of a shoe, a car’s wheel, etc.)
- gradient of emotions: a photo of twelve people in a line showing different emotions: angry to peaceful, happy to depressed
- time-fracture photography: a single photograph with different sections of the film exposed at different times of day
- forever sunset/daily sunset — take a picture of the sunset every day at the exact same location, so that the sun is in the same place but the clouds and surroundings change
- take picture of the sun at the same time each day but from very different locations, so that it stays constant but the surroundings change
- in-museum wiki: accessible on your phone, so you can find out a lot more about the piece you’re looking at
- movie masher: rearranges a film’s parts by frame or second (dark to light, silent to loud)
Thought I felt your heartbeat
It was just my counting
This is such a perfect line (and such a perfect album). It struck me the first time I heard it and I’ve been meaning to write about it ever since.
The opening run of disappointments in ‘Dance Slow Decades’ is inspired, a beautiful and palpable take on the typically simplistic day-night-happy-sad-angel-devil trope. Angel’s list of mundane mistakes—forgetting her watch, or a dream—is so effective because of the way it matches ordinary error with the cognitive distortions of worst-case-scenario fear, how stupid little failures reinforce the perception of bigger ones, how the obsessive worry keeps itself alive—it was just my counting.
Not to mention the delivery; the plainspoken admissions of misunderstanding alongside the cry of “it took me down” is… well, you have to hear it.
Thought I had a clue
It was passing by
Thought I had an answer
It was just a sigh
Thought I had a dream once
Don’t remember what
Thought I had some time here
Left my watch at home
Thought I had ideas once
They were all on loan
Thought I conquered something
And it took me down
What I thought I heard clearly
It wasn’t sound
Thought I felt your heartbeat
It was just my counting
And to what thoughts will
my life be amounted?
I’ve been taking photos of all the springtime happening in our neighborhood on my morning dog-walk.
Friday, March 14th was the last day of my job. I took a week off to tie up loose ends and relax, and now I’ve begun freelancing. (So, hey, if you’re in need of top-notch frontend web development, I’m on LinkedIn and you can email me.)
Last week I booked an hour and a half in a float tank. A float tank is a sensory deprivation chamber; a tub of water completely saturated with salt in a sound- and light-proof room. (I’d heard about it from watching a Portlandia video on YouTube.)
Float On (‘the largest float tank center on the West Coast’) happens to be a five minute drive away, so I reserved a tank for 9am on Tuesday morning. I walked in, was shown to my room, told how it all worked, and wished a great float.
I rinsed off, climbed into the tub, turned the lights off, lay back, and immediately got ‘The Piña Colada Song’ stuck in my head.
(I have a memory of then getting ‘Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer’ stuck in my head, but that sounds so unbelievably ridiculous that it can’t possibly be true and must be a false memory.)
As I tried to breathe more slowly and empty my head, the bridge of my nose began to itch. I tried to ignore it, but eventually had to scratch. I got a drop of water in my eye, which stung like hell. I stumbled around in the dark for the right edge of the tub, turned the lights on, and climbed out to wash my face and head.
I got back in and tried to relax. I couldn’t. The room was 97º and extremely humid. My head would bump the edge of the tank as I floated, and I could hear every strand of hair crinkling against the edge of the tank from inside my head. I felt itches on my back, on my shoulder, on my scalp, on my face. As much as I tried to ignore it, as gingerly as I attempted to scratch an itch, I would inevitably get salt water in my eye or my skin would be begin to crawl to the point where I would have to get out and shower off again.
After having to shower off my head and face for a fourth time, I gave up. About forty minutes had passed, less than half of my allotted ninety. I explained to the guy at the front desk that I had a really hard time, that I guess my skin is just too sensitive, that I guess I run a little too hot for this. He told me not to worry, that “it’s far from over” and that I would reap the relaxing benefits for the rest of the day.
I’ll just take a nap next time.