522. Collection at the Intersections of Science and Poetry (and Song)

First off, to say this is a touchy subject for me... because all my poetry and lyrics are deeply embedded in thoughts and themes of science. The question is, how have science and poetry become so distinct, so divided? As I was scrounging around through the internet, I learned that a lot of early scientists and explorers expressed their knowledge through art and poetry. Haeckel is an obvious case, Darwin wrote a prose adventure novel on the origins of the species... and I encountered someone who wrote poetry about developmental biology. Scientific expression through artful means was rather common.

But then somehow through time, science and art started to split to a point in which scientists and artists in the same room would look at each other like they just sited a pack of aliens across the room. Milton Love and I even discussed this theme... somehow through time, the structure of scientific expression transformed from artful and emotionally driven to logical, robotic, emotionally-absent, highly precise, verbiage that no one intuitively enjoys reading, including scientists themselves (me being one). I told Milton that writing a scientific paper became meaningless as I discovered that it was like filling out a form and that only 10 people in the world was going to read it. But then again, as I discovered the difficulties of publishing POETRY and SHORT STORIES, I started to realize that ... well, at least I get my scientific paper published, and THANKFULLY ten people read it. I announced to Hector in the car a couple weeks back, "It is officially easier to publish a scientific article than a poem," and then my heart sunk as I scratched my head, "And a lot of the published poems SUCK, the poets already established a big name, and they say nothing in particular... geee, this is really sad." And THEN, I realized the SOLUTION to this double-edged sword (as I spoke with Barry Spacks) was TO MAKE A FILM ABOUT BEING REJECTED BY DOING SOMETHING MEANINGFUL AND BEING ACCEPTED DOING SOMETHING THAT HAS LOST MEANING OR VALUE. And that, would be meaningful! *Sigh*

Captions from Above Slideshow: Collection at the Intersection of Science and Poetry (and Song). Well?! I've written over 500 blogs, I can say it's extremely surprising that I'm covering such a topic "so late in the game." I've bene having a long-term discussion with Barry Spacks on the intersection of scientific knowledge and creative storytelling for the last two years now... and have learned sooo much... but at this point, I am paying particular attention to the inter-relationships between science and (specifically) poetry, as brought to the forefront through NCEAS'-Santa Barbara Poet Laureate gathering last June of 2009 (where Barry presented a poem, I was so excited to review it before its presentation!). In addition, as an undergraduate, I happened to run into a few oddball poems in the middle of my science textbooks and handouts... so I just started to save a few snipits of other people's work, and I sincerely hope the collection grows!

The Poetry of Science. June 5, 2009. 8pm. Fe Bland Forum at SBCC. Sponsored by The National Center fo Ecological Analysis and Synthesis. Santa Barbara City College Creative Writing Program. Santa Barbara Laureate. My professor Barry Spacks (or poetry pal?) presented a poem and the only metaphor I remember out of the whole event (a year later) is how scientists behave like swarms of bees. Some snipits of Barry's poem: “Mostly she likes to count, to fill spreadsheets, to sample populations, invent software,” he read, garnering laughs from the audience, including Ryan, who stood on stage with him. “Oh, scientists so like to count! And foremost to get it right! While we slovenly poets need wild elixir for our work..." Noozhawk wrote an article on the event HERE. :

PDF of the Poetry of Science can be found here: http://sites.google.com/site/stokastika2/poetryprogramfullfinal5inorder.pdf.

"This is How Shxt Happens" Poem that I yanked off of Dr. Raul Suarez' office door to make a photocopy. We both tried to find the source of this poem but it was futile (one of Dr. Suarez' predecessors). Most likely it was an imitation of a well-known poem of "This is How Shxt Happens" in the corporate world. Fall of 2008. (probably will include in an essay in Ecology of Scale / Environmental Metaphors). Written on the Blog 105 .

"When a Fellow Needs a Friend" icthyological (fishy) poem by the esteemed Dr. Milton Love. Found in the book "Probably More Than You [Ever] Want to Know About the Fishes of the Pacific Coast." This poem captures the miniscule parasitic male clamping onto the gigantous female of anglerfish. Whacky and very sexually exploritative! Uploaded Fall of 2007. Blog found at http://www.biologicallyincorrect.org/2007/09/two-and-half-poems-by-dr-milton-love.html (Two and a Half Poems by Milton Love).

"Reproductio Ad Absurdum" icthyological (fishy) poem by the esteemed Dr. Milton Love. Found in the book "Probably More Than You [Ever] Want to Know About the Fishes of the Pacific Coast." This poem explores the bold and edgy notion of sex changes in fishes (wrasses, basses specifically). Uploaded Fall of 2007. Blog found at http://www.biologicallyincorrect.org/2007/09/two-and-half-poems-by-dr-milton-love.html (Two and a Half Poems by Milton Love).

Page 1. "Sweet Parasite Lovin'" Spoken Word by Martin Moretti, as found in my Parasitology Laboratory/Handbook from Dr. Armand Kuris' epic UCSB course... back in 2003.... Sigh... I still wish I were still an innocent undergrad... (missing poem Ode to an Alga)

"Digital" Lyrics by Mia Doi Todd. Last quarter I had the golden opportunity to watch her and Michel Gondry perform at Spaceland in Silverlake, California, though unfortunately she did not sing this song, which is potentially my favorite of hers. Though the lyrics metaphorically detail some form of intense male-female relationship, the metaphors evoke scale in a scientific fashion.

The one very weak spot in the entire tune is use of the term "plastic bag lubricated safety tube." All lyrics were surreal and metaphorical, and then this moment of precise, literal, and TACKY language destroyed the essence of the song--the worst part is that Mia ACCENTUATES these words when SINGING! I cringe every time I pass through this part.... Maybe that is why this song is not super famous, which it deserves to be. I think a more benign, and metaphorical term like "love glove" would be more appropriate... and the strange thing is that she had NO RHYMES to constrain her word choice... and still decided to use such gnarly words!

Refer to BLOG 454, an analysis of "The Fish" by Elizabeth Bishop.

"Science and Poetry" is like this whole can of worms I just opened... A can of worms so large I feel it's even worth exploring for an entire quarter, like in a College of Creative Studies Course (e.g. Bruce Tiffney and Hank Pitcher go out to Sedgwick Ranch and both offer commentary on landscapes when designing artwork depicting landscapes).

Here are some websites and names that may serve as starting points:

http://www.firstscience.com/home/poems-and-quotes/poems.html
Classic poets address science in their works.

http://www.helpstoknow.com/html/ps/
An attempt toward a first e-zine devoted to the intersection of science and poetry. Seems pretty dead right now, but it's certainly the right idea!

Of course, there are endless resources on Ecocriticism, "Nature Poetry" (like in Orion)... etc...

And then... just in the last hour I encoutered more than enough media classified in the "LAME" category... or "SUPER LAME" and "SUPER TACKY" category. For example, I encountered this Youtube video entitled "The Symphony of Science," and it was essentially old footage of science figureheads (Carl Sagan, Richard Dawkins, Lawrence Krauss, Michael Shermer, to name a few...) with altered voices to make it seem like they were singing to some techno music track. Ummm... I'm sorry, if people were inspired by this piece (as state on Youtube comments), I could say this was more disturbing than inspirational. There was no sense of artfulness in the visual aspects, though quite a bit of technical music skills were portrayed (plus a lot of patience to dig through old video footage)! I'm trained as a scientist and I could barely watch any of these music videos. In all truth, I am appalled that there is recycling of old footage "old science icons" rather than generating new icons, characters, adventures...

Another tacky hit I got was a video called Science Cheerleader and it ended up being a bunch of ditzy blond (some were blond) high school girls waving pom poms and narrating "fun facts" about physics and chemistry and advocating that science was cool. Ummm... this honestly to me... was a bit degrading... to both parties... the cheerleaders no longer looked cool and the scientists were being associated with ditzy cheerleaders supposedly saying intelligent things (without demonstrating much comprehension of their knowledge).

So, the reason is that WHY I am in environmental media, is because the old "science and society stories" are OLD and the ICONS are the same old icons... and novelty is needed.... I'm also environmental media because I want to make Tackiness and Lame go EXTINCT.

521. Emerging Collection of Photography "Biologically Incorrect's Photographic Compilation of Crazy Signs"

Caption: Emerging Collection of Photography "Biologically Incorrect's Photographic Compilation of Crazy Signs"
Emerging Photography "Biologically Incorrect's Collection of Crazy Signs." Sometimes I go buy that epic indie signage (or grafiti?) that I wished were distributed on national billboards... The least I can do is place them on this here blog. Sigh.... (This collection used to be on my StokastikaPortfolio Picasaweb album, but then came to realize how in appropriate the location was).

519. A Random Videographic Adventure with Alexander "The Great Raguzi" and Ron "The Voice" Jackson at Pechanga Casino, April 10, 2010

Picasaweb Caption That Goes with the Images: When I first met Alexander "The Great Raguzi" on Thursday, Midnight, at a Rite Aid Parking Lot, in Riverside, California, and we ended up talking and yapping for about an hour, I think both of us were probably looking for something new, something random, something different, something unexpected in our own lives. As my poetry professor Barry Spacks started a short story, "Change your life, until your life changes." And that is what exactly happened--both our lives changed, even to the smallest degree, through our own interaction--before I knew it, I was doing videography and photography work for Alexander at Pechanga Casino on a Saturday afternoon--it was my first, small-paid video/photo gig--and it was just wonderful to jive with someone that you never met before, but a few days later, you felt like you knew them for your entire life. I left Alexander in a big smile with my work. A new resume item: "I even astonished a magician with my video work!"


Youtube Caption: Adventures with the Great Raguzi, Magician: Collage of Magic Acts at Pechanga Casino, April 10, 2010. Shot and edited by Victoria Minnich.


Youtube Caption: Adventures with the Great Raguzi, Magician: Act with Lights and Dove at Pechanga Casino, April 10, 2010. Shot and edited by Victoria Minnich.


Youtube Caption: Adventures with the Great Raguzi, Magician: Act with Knots and Candle at Pechanga Casino, April 10, 2010. Shot and edited by Victoria Minnich.

It was Thursday night, and I was determined to participate in Duke University's "Green in Three" video contest. The only problem was that all my 30 hours of rock crab footage was in Riverside, and I was in Santa Barbara that week. So, after having a superb photographic discussion with Shannon Switzer (she'll be a conservation photographer for Destination Three Degrees, two elite surf kayakers traveling through the Hawaiian islands to raise awareness about plastics in the ocean), I started to head home to Riverside, with the worst traffic ironically in Santa Barbara. I was going crazy because I couldn't buy a rock crab at the Ranch 99 market in San Fernando Valley, so I started to improvise my initial ideas and head home. By the time I reached Riverside, it was 11:30pm at night and I needed to get some sugar free candy at Rite Aid. So, I go about in my usual routine and I'm sitting in the car, moving my cell phone around to get it charged, and this man approaches me--he's tall mid-aged, very-cool looking African American wearing some hip clothes that were kind of like funk army-wear--and he asked me to roll down the window. "Excuse me for asking, but you went on a road trip?" There was a hesitating part in me at first--I'm wired up to editing a film with a deadline for the next day--and some random guy I don't know wants to discuss a road trip close to midnight at a Rite Aid parking lot! Well, the hesitation started to melt away, as I began telling him about how my friend Shannon and I went around the Pacific Coast, but not the midwest or East Coast--which this guy's from Chicago--but maybe in the future we can take a longer trip. I was quickly learning that this person was very kind, intelligent, open-minded, had a charming personality, and though we were two random people we ended up having a lot to talk about. I soon learned that his name was Alexander Germaine "The Great Raguzi," a professional magician who was about to do an opening act in Pechanga Casino, and Alexander learned that I'm a graduate student in science and art--with film training--and then I learned that one of his sons was accepted into medical school at UCLA and UCI (his son worked with Dr. Neil Schiller at UC Riverside, who I knew through my younger tennis days) and my eyes bulged because I had a few friends from high school who tried to get into medical school and they ended up having to go all the way back east--being rejected by the programs in California... my gosh.... Before I knew it, Alexander was performing magic tricks right in front of me--with a handkerchief and a few coins--as I was left flustered wondering how he performed these tricks (increasingly frustrating for a scientist, eh?) as he was explaining to me the philosophies of magic: (1) the whole goal of a magician is to practice tricks to a point in which the audience experiences a sense of astonishment (from experiencing the unexpected, from being innocently fooled) and that (2) magic is a combination of blending math, science (physics), engineering, and most importantly... psychology. In addition, the word "magic" is always a word of attraction to people. Always luring people to watch. And I even learned some more of Alexander's background: how at a certain point in his life he was involved in engineering but received a two-year grant from the Chicago Arts Council to pursue magic full time. And that's when his pursuits led him to California. Alexander also trained with Siegfred and Roy and worked with tigers! (that's probably how he learned how to stay cool on stage; it's easier to perform in front of other humans instead of tigers, who can attack you if they sense any fear around you) (and operated an organic restaurant).

As I am learning there is a whole tight circuit of magic entertainers out there... Alexander is the first magician I have gotten to know well, but I also encountered a fellow UCSB graduate by the name of Jason Latimer, back in April of 2009 through Dr. Lawrence Krauss at the Origins Conference. Jason was proclaimed to be the World Champion of Magic, and at the time I didn't know the significance of this "title;" it sounded a little to glorified for me especially upon first encounter with a guy who could exchange little balls in three cups at a fancy party in Arizona. I just visited Jason's website and now I understand better this entitlement, and how he is blending academics, technological innovation with psychological illusion. Jason's work is at the cutting edge of BOTH the science, technology, and art of magic. Jason's the same age as I am and he's built an entire empire around himself! And so it goes with my accidental, strange encounters with magicians, eh? Random academic party in Arizona and a Rite Aid parking lot in my Riversidian hometown!

Before Alexander and I parted, he recruited me to videotape and edit his act at Pechanga this Saturday, and I was to call him the next day so we’d both confirm. It was like a reward was waiting for me after the stint with the 30-second rock crab video to Duke. He flat out told me that he admired my sense of enthusiasm, my energy, and excitement. And me? I sensed his knowingness… and his trust. He was not someone who talked the talk. He walked the walk.

When I drove home to pick up my black bag full of rock crab footage (you'd think it was full of a million dollars stolen from a bank, from the outside looks of it), I couldn’t help thinking how glad I was to keep all the “Roadtrip Nation” orange paint on my car. This interaction was by far the best conversation ever started with my roadtrip nation signage. Over the year, I had thousands of strange looks but only two people approached me and asked what exactly Roadtrip Nation was… but this is the first time Roadtrip Nation led to new friendship and even a job-line on my resume! I have my mom and a few fisherman friends on my case to get all the painting off the car, but now they have to think twice about giving me such kind of advice. I probably wouldn’t have met Alexander otherwise!

I am really glad that Randomness happened. It happened at the right time. I was also prepared to see Randomness—I was in a groovy film-making mode. I was in the “change your life, until your life changes” mode, even if it’s as subtle as making a new friend. But then again, who said making friends is a subtle process? The whole experience felt like a Michel Gondry Moment (MGM). I like to call them Michel Gondry moments, the whole pursuit of finding the magic of humanity in the cold and ordinary, always with a pinch of surrealistic mysteriousness…. Heck, it was midnight! Recently I had been taking photographs of “famous people,” including Gondry himself (also Malcolm Gladwell and Barbara Kingsolver). I look at those pictures, and I felt a sense of impersonality and distancing. I felt that my assumed role was just another body count to purchase and consume their books and movies. And that is why I felt like an unwelcomed "paparazzi" rather than a welcomed “photographer.” I look at the photographs above of The Great Raguzi and his sidekick Ron The Voice Jackson, and I feel warmth and love, and that I was embraced as a human and a part of a production team, and that means a lot to me, especially after this string of encounters that embodied alienation….

This interaction all happened amidst my 30 second rock crab film frenzy. I started to realize that editing my film footage is my cocaine, my crystal meth, my ultimate high. I’m an editor addict. When I start, I don’t stop. I don’t eat, I don’t sleep until I finally finish my film that I intend to create. When I was swiftly editing away into the wee hours of the night this rock crab film, I was thinking that this society makes film production such a BIG DEAL, and that for me, film editing is so easy and intuitive that I perceive the process as a sequential arrangement of moving photographs (which I did before I was actually filming, making arrangements of photographs to tell stories). At one point I felt like I was mindlessly arranging flowers blowing in the field… and ANYONE can arrange flowers… at least in my mind. Then again, I have to remind myself I’m a freak. I’m a right-brained, left-handed person in a largely left-brained world.

So, Friday night after my rock crab film frenzy, I called Alexander around 11:40 pm and said I can do it. And the next morning he gave me some general logistics… I was supposed to look for Timmy D at the casino. And through this conversation, I learned the concept of negotiating price. I gave Alexander two prices. The bare minimum student price for labor and products, and the bare minimum stipend appreciation price because I really want to do this, and this is partly an experiment and a training session so we can feel each other out, and I can gain something on my resume. I told him, “I’m stating two prices because I want to show you that I don’t want money to be an issue. I want a token of appreciation for my effort, but I really want to film your magic show and I don’t want price to be much concern.” And Alexander and I were both fair to each other. I received the stipend appreciation price (plus a tip and a coffee!!!) divided into initial halfway payment then final payment upon delivery of the goods. And later on Alexander said he would be prepared to write me into the budget so I’ll be properly paid! I’m glad that I was able to be upfront about this issue. I myself have a hard time discussing price, especially as an artist who wants to be inspired, not motivated to make money (but money is a matter of survival, the money is used to keep my visceral components alive so I can do art). My visceral self (my agent, my bulldog manager) is negotiating the contract and my artistic self is in performance.

I watched my fishermen friends Ernie and Jules in operation in terms of price and negotiation. Ernie and Jules are two people who love their jobs. Their profession is 50% work and 50% hobby, adventure, and pure fun. But they have to have this visceral side to them where money has to be upfront such that they can sustain their work, their fun, their adventurous livelihood. Ernie strategizes to have people pay right before the boat takes off on the sportfishing trip, so that the business side is over and done, and then it’s all about having fun! Jules keeps close tabs of his receipts, and he acts as a distributor of seafood, which eliminates some of his reliance on middlemen. It’s amazing I have learned so much about the psychology of business just by watching my fellow fishermen interacting with their customers. I would have never learned this through school. I would have had to see independent businessmen in action.

On Saturday, April 10, 2010, I drove down to Temecula from Riverside and showed up to Pechanga around 12:15. There was some bizarre freeway traffic before the entrance (probably a bunch of wine snob tourists) and I had a hard time finding the showroom. Alexander accidentally told me I was supposed to be at the “ballroom,” not the showroom… but that was straightened out fairly quickly. The ballroom was bizarrely empty. No one was around for some corporate Survivor’s meeting.

My walking through Pechanga Casino was a strange, novel experience. It was the first time I entered a smoke-filled, flashy casino in CALIFORNIA. I mean, it was a classic Nevadan, Las Vegas experience, except I was in California! My brain was not used to such displacement. Everything in Pechanga was neat and straight and looking brand new, the usual fantastic flashiness of Vegas. Lots of employees, lots of customers, lots of business. I passed by hundreds of people dribbling away their money to slot machines, as if they were playing to dream, playing, losing money in order to win a dream. Gambling felt like a displacement for hard work, for earning your money. I felt it was a place where the value of the dollar was completely lost… but then the casino makes so much money that they could afford a fancy-super amazing, professional showroom that holds really big gigs, ranging from Jerry Seinfeld to David Copperfield to Jamie Fox to the Gypsy Kings to many many more! So, other people waste away their money to win their dreams while some of this money is displaced to the world’s top entertainment! I don’t think that’s a bad thing… partly…

The Pechanga Showroom was extremely high-end professional. Everyone there had their place and if one person screwed up with their job, everyone screwed up and looked bad. Everything was super-organized. And for some reason, when I was walking around, I felt embarrassed for not knowing who was doing what and why, and I felt I needed some kind of stage production course or at least some one-hour training session so I felt more comfortable knowing everyone’s places and operations. Professionality was of essence especially when I saw all the posters of the big names in the backstage area. I told Alexander I was back stage at the Arizona State University arena, in which I sensed professionalism in the production of the Origins conference, but I didn’t feel that same wired tension of “if you screw up, you’re screwed.” The operation felt like there was room for glitches, and it didn’t even matter if you did mess up. The university is a place where mistakes are partly welcome. That's how you accidentally discover new things!

I signed in and received a cloth sticker from the police officer, stating that I was legit. I could tell that this officer and a few others who worked at Pechanga held some Native American blood in them; you could see it in the structure of their faces, the darker tone of their skin. It was cool. I finally hunted down Timmy D and Alexander and met his sidekick Ron “The Voice” Jackson, who was a professional heavyweight boxer (?) in the past. Alexander and Ron look like two peas in a pod. I had to borrow a monopod for my camera (good thing I did because it’s hard to do good hand-held work when shooting at a distance). It turned out that my clothes were a problem—I was wearing a nice shirt and nice shorts—but I didn’t know I had to be in uniform. Production crew was supposed to wear black: black shirt and black pants… and I myself was an eyesore. I was a white sheep. Ooops. Alexander didn’t know either. But we resolved the problem. I borrowed Timmy D’s production shirt and I blended in with the crew afterwards. Now I know for future reference. Crew are men (and chickas) in black. I explained to Timmy D that I’m used to doing film work on boats and in the field, so I didn’t know that there was a standard dress code.

After getting used to the fancy arena and stage area, I spoke with the audiovisual director to make sure where I can and can’t be, to make sure I’m not stepping on his toes or the production’s toes, as well as not being a nuisance to the audience. The director also gave me an overview of the show, in order to know what to expect (a little bit), which helped me in filming. Pechanga tapes all shows sometimes for commercial purposes, but mostly archives the tapes more so for legal purposes because in Power Player, a contestant could possibly win a million dollars! It turned out that I could be in the “front area” and the front sides, but these areas (especially the front) were largely horrible shots and I ended up finding a niche in the very back, toward the middle (with slight angles), such that I didn’t interfere with the audience whatsoever.

As the show started, I was thinking of a way on how I was going to retrieve multiple angles (as I am a one-camera girl). I retrieved establisher shots of (1) the stage area (2) the audience (3) the band (all distant and close-up). During each act, I stayed put in one area and largely filmed The Great Raguzi at full-body or ¾ body. I began to realize that magic on film would only work if you film it continuously—to make the magic tricks believable. I couldn’t create shot diversity within acts, but among acts. In between magic acts, I transferred my position to get a new angle. As Raguzi was marching through several acts, from Act of Lights and Doves, to Act of Ropes, Act of Flags, Act of Handkerchiefs and Knots, Act of the Guillotine, and Act of Cards with the Snake… I started to notice how smooth, professional, and modest Raguzi was, especially in his suit with a jacket of long coat tails! Most magicians are very fast and jazzy and showy, but Raguzi present himself as “this is who I am and this is what I do, and can you figure me out?”

I could say that the Act of Knots was most impressive because Raguzi chose the most superb audience member who was totally jiving with the tricks and the show in general. This kid looked like a stage performer himself! I retrieved the best footage for this act! I had one technical difficulty in my part, but I managed to adjust in just enough time. The brightness and contrast was a huge issue due to the spotlight effect on Raguzi, and I ended up having to adjust shutter speed, and since that moment all of the film came out in full quality…. All of the acts were choreographed to superb music, much like Jason Latimer’s shows, and it was a very cool, and classy assemblage of music, ranging from classical to jazz to modern Cirque de Soleil soundtracks.

Before I knew it, the show was done, and I rushed back stage to meet up with Alexander and Ron. We “cooled down” and talked much more. I ended up taking some phiotographs of Alexander and Ron and the doves and not only that, we reviewed the video footage and did on-the-spot editing. That was an excellent move in my part. It’s so important to review and reflect upon the footage right away! The audio was superb with my Seinhausser! About an hour later, I left the stage very happy, and so was the great Raguzi: “We need to take good care of this girl!”

It took a while for me to wind down after what happened. To shut out my state of being stunned and exhausted, I ended up calling three or four people, and my friend Connie called me for a photography gig at her wedding this summer! My golly! What fun! Finally, around sunset, I mozied over to a 24-7 Kinkos (Fedex Office) off of Winchester (it’s a wonderful Kinkos, nice and big and lots of space), and I went straight to downloading footage and photographs, marking the best footage, and editing the necessary and needed and most aesthetic. I knew that emotions and creativity were spontaneous creatures (or beasts) inside of me and all of us humans, and that I had to feed off of the emotional recency. Otherwise, this project would become another buried piece of material that would be difficult to unearth. Sitting on this project was NOT an option.

And I suppose in this brief window of time, which ended up being around 10 hours, I learned the most about myself. I learned about my workflow in photographic and video editing. How fast I was able to sort and edit and compile and make a final product. In total, I think it was a 12-hour photo-video editing and uploading gig. I really felt in this round of video work, I was learning the most about myself. I was creating an optimized, orderly workflow for myself, such that if any future client off the street wanted video work, I could create a neat operation. Any possible way to get a few gigs every once in a while to have a little bit of income and keep the student loans down to a minimum *gulp.* At first I felt vulnerable because I was thinking about how I needed to learn much more about Final Cut Pro, but I decided to make the best of what I knew at the time.

A brief review of my workflow process: (1) download all footage (2) arrange footage in nice, neat folders (3) reviewed the footage (4) place markers around the footage that I liked (like identifying the best photographs of the heap) (5) dissected the video footage to its elements (6) dissected the audio to its elements (7) mentally identified the best footage and recordings (8) took a step back and decided what elements to resynthesize into my own products based on (a) what the client wanted and (b) what I wanted to do (9) each new project got its own timeline in final cut pro. Footage and audio editing was to the extent of (1) some audio adjustments, when the recording was too soft or too loud, not in the range of -12 to -6 db (2) some video adjustments, cutting out shaky footage, changing the contrast when the footage was too bright and (3) added some cross-fade transitions (4) added some showy Livetype.

By the time I had the idea for the collage, it was around 3 am in the morning. My mind was still going through an adrenaline rush, but it had NO ABILITY to be exacting and precise. I retrieved all the best footage and barely managed to arrange it into a coherent 37-second collage that complimented Ron “The Voice” Jackson’s introduction to The Great Raguzi at the very beginning of the show. I sped up the timing of some acts in order for all footage to fit as well as make sure that the Guillotine Act was well-timed. I called this timeline a “Pizza Collage” because I was so mentally out of it I was essentially assembling material in a state of subconsciousness. I could not precisely correlate the video and audio such that it could have a form of music beat to it—which is what I would have done if I saved the project for the next morning, but I had no time to procrastinate. Procrastination was not an option with this project.

By the time everything was done, and I was packing up, it was 4:30 am. Just me and one worker at the Kinkos. I drove home happy and had a fake white caramel powder coffee drink from Shell for “dinner” and by the time I reached home in Riverside the sky was turning from dark to dusk. My parents were already awake when I came home, and I crashed for three hours on my sister’s bed. I woke up at 9 and started working on downloading the footage on Youtube and burning DVDs for Alexander and Ron. It took a while for me to upload four videos because of several snafoos (1) I had to create an extra email to create an account for “TheGreatRaguziMagic” (2) Youtube was not uploading some of the larger-sized “mov” files (3) there was a music copyright issue with the Act of Flags that Youtube detected right away! I can’t believe it! That unfortunately took another three hours of my life. Maybe I worked longer than 12 hours. More so 16 hours… a full day of editing life on a total high.

(Called Bob) I then finished stuff, went jogging around 3pm. I met up with Alexander at Starbucks Canyon Crest around 4pm when I told him over the phone “I’ve got the goods!” I show ed Alexander the work and it turned out that he REALLY LIKED the short collage I made! Alexander was so happy with the collage that he said he would use it for part of his Magic Act Reel. What an honor, a compliment! As a magician who is in the business of being astonished, my work has managed to astonish the magician, Raguzi! Pro bonus for my resume and one of the most interesting compliments I have ever received. I may work with Alexander next weekend for a prom, but there might be a conflict with work back up at UC Santa Barbara.

After the business part of our discussion, I ended up showing him my new 30-second rock crab film (30.08 second rock crab film) to Alexander and he was impressed with the diversity of footage (it took a long time to collect… over 9 weeks in the summer of 2007!) as I explained to him what price transparency was and Gwaz’ ingenius environmental advertising idea. Then we had fun talking about photography. Alexander showed me his relatively new Canon Rebel SLR camera with two very nice lenses. That camera was very nice. I really enjoy the colors and the sharpness of the images that the camera was producing. Maybe my next “real” camera will be a Canon. I’m not sure… it’s a long way from now. Alexander was considering in taking a photography course through a camera store, but I offered to take him out for free and expose him to the basic elements of composition. And a final cherry on top—I was taught my first magic trick of “misdirection” with two pennies. He was thinking of using me for a levitation trick and I told him I loved lights, plasma lamps, lava lamps and such.

We parted in our separate ways, with both of us feeling good. “Change your life, until your life changes,” Barry Spacks’ voice whispered in my head, and I think both of us walked away feeling changed, even just a little bit. The initial randomness at the midnight conversation in a Rite Aid parking lot didn’t seem so random after all. As Alexander says, “We are here for a purpose… it was meant to be….”

It’s interesting to explore human relationships that are partly professional and partly fun and friendship. I am learning how to balance both. I think this whole experience has made me realize how personality-driven I am in terms of meeting people. I am more intrigued by personalities and outlooks to life than by people’s content. So it goes to show I don’t hang out much with graduate students at UC Santa Barbara. I think I’m at a phase in my life where it doesn’t really matter what discipline you are. If you have an optimistic, unique outlook to life and an original assemblage of skills and knowledge—it doesn’t matter what job you have or discipline you are in—I will most likely be your good friend.

So it goes to say I never thought I would be involved in “magic.” I think the pursuit of science and advancing knowledge is the process of demystifying the magic and mystery and mythology… and such is the long-term relationship between science and mythology anyway… from the mystical and supernatural and unexplained shifted to the scientific and mechanical understandings of the world…. It’s hard to for my head to wrap around the question, “Where does magic fit in my life?” For me I find that sense of “magic” in myself when I go through that adrenaline rush of losing myself in the activity of creative film editing, as well as the magic of mind in attempting to explore and de-mystify human-environmental relationships.

And then I came to realize that the The Great Raguzi’s mindset is not magical or mystical whatsoever. Magicians are not mythological shamans who have a supernatural understanding of the world. In fact, Raguzi has mechanically and artfully learned how to create the “magical experience” for the unknowing audience. Magicians are very exacting, precise people who have a blend of knowledge in science and art. They are people who know how to precisely, mechanically manipulate objects and subjects such as to (1) astonish people, (2) fool and deceive people, and (3) essentially screw around with people’s heads. In all honesty, I think magicians are essentially the professional and legal versions of cheating and breaking the rules of human perception…. They have found loopholes in our mind’s construction of reality…. Something like politicians and boards of directors on megacorporations (they’re very good at disappearing and re-appearing-in-other-places acts), except they’re actually entertaining. Coming to think, you have to be a very sophisticated person, and very talented person to pursue the construction of magic as a career. I feel like Raguzi is a fascinating character who just stepped out of the documentary Fast, Cheap, and Out of Control, by Errol Morris.

I think I can learn a lot from Alexander’s… or Raguzi’s… perspective... this intention to astonish and screw around with people’s heads. These are my intentions when I edit my films: (1) to expect the unexpected and (2) to mess with people’s heads with existing ways of reality. But in my case of exploring coupled human-environmental systems, my magic tricks don’t involve handkerchiefs and decks of cards. They are about human-environmental problems… they are political and scientific problems. And this is where I see the bridge of Raguzi’s magic into my life… we have the same intentions, but I need to learn how to metaphorically overlay his tricks with the real-world tricks of human-environmental change. As Alexander said, he was willing to perform a fish magic trick for my Fish-in-a-Box film.

Besides learning magic tricks, I’m sure I can learn so much about stage production and tactics of mainstream entertainment…. It’s been a beautiful few days, two people with different roads in life have an unlikely encounter and develop a friendship…. And yes indeed, it’s a game of paying it forward; these have been Michel Gondry Moments, making the extraordinary out of the ordinary… like reality has its own magic… only if you choose to see it.

518. The Ironies of Floatopia Isla Vista and the Marine Life Protection Act, Some Initial Thoughts....

By the time it's spring quarter, my mind opens up with happiness. The days are getting longer and it's getting warmer. Summer is just around the corner... and from the history of the Blue Horizons science-film summer bootcamp... I am developing an itch, a bug, to film something... go outside and pursue a few film projects.... It seems like this filming in spring and summer is becoming an annual ritual in my life, as if filming coincides with my annual metabolism. Then again, summertime is when no one bugs me, and I can give the university the finger (politely) and say yipee! I can do whatever the hxll I want! And when I realize what I want to do, it ends up being something related to the university.... But at least I want to do it!

Last week I slaved away at a grant (that I don't want to publicly talk about yet, because grants are a bunch of to-do lists and I would rather show people to-done lists, which end up being boootiful and edutaining... or at least I try to make them pretty and edutaining). This grant also included a proposal to produced two public service announcements (PSAs). And alas, my dentist, Dr. Dart, announces to me this morning: "Don't go to Isla Vista this weekend! It's Floatopia!!! Facebook has the announcement!" And perhaps to my dentist's dismay, my eyes beamed and I announced, "I gotta go! I gotta go!" I gotta "undercover" film the event! It's footage I need for the PSAs! He looked at me strangely, and then I continued justifying myself to his assistant, Lynn.

I want to film a short, short film that has a complex thesis. It has multiple twists, which is what I like, which is what I thrive on. Which is the epitome of Biological Incorrectedness.

In short, "Floatopia," which is based off of "utopia," is an epic annual spring beach event in which the twenty-somethings college crowd have found a loophole in the "no-drinking-on-the-beach" law by floating on Costco-grab-inflatable-rafts right along the shore... with beers, wines, and other forms of alcohol at hand. The tradition is fairly recent (within the last few years, apparently started in Isla Vista), but the participation has expanded tremendously into thousands upon thousands of people.... Floatopia events are now being held (or considered in being held) at Pacific Beach, San Diego, and San Luis Obispo (SLOtopia!)... and I'm not sure if anything's happening in Orange County or Los Angeles.... (tragic, Wikipedia knowledge, I should probably compile a series of news reports and police records to increase the accuracy of what I'm saying).

So, here comes my mixed up thesis. For one, I think this concept is epically brilliant! It's the continued Animal-House-like tradition of finding any form of loophole in the existing law to come out and having a smashing, alcohol-binging public party! I also think it's amazing how communities can come together and organize public events, create their own fun and adventure independent of "the grid" of consumed entertainment. Self-generated entertainment, Michel Gondry style (I think drinking beers on floats by the masses in the shallows of the ocean could only be a brilliant Gondry music video, it's absurdly hilarious!). In fact, I think Floatopia is SOOO clever that I bet right now some fortunate, high-paid Hollywood screenwriter is now working on a script to make this event as some form of modern Animal House film! Look, I just gave the idea away for free. Talk about the corruption of people in LA getting paid for ideas... *whatever* Sigh. As long as I get some nice, minimum wage academic-public-outreach related job in the future, where I can freely spread ideas and still pay my rent and health insurance (ahem, thank you Obama), then I'm happy.

And so there is a sad second part of the thesis. Unfortunately Floatopia in Isla Vista has a sucky side.... It has negative consequences. I just finished participating in a year-long political process in the design of marine protected areas in southern California, and a group of hardworking, educated citizens (fishermen, scientists, conservation groups, government agents) decided to place a marine protected area right outside of UC Santa Barbara and Isla Vista. It's part of the Integrated Preferred Alternative (IPA) plan and it will probably become official in 1-2 years. I just find it so ironic that people have worked so hard in this political process to largely restrict fishing, and place reserves in areas to reduced exposure to water pollution, but what about the general public? What about public awareness, public use of the ocean? How is that managed and restricted? Apparently extra enforcement will be placed this weekend out on these beaches, plus restrictions at beach access points, but this county and local enforcement... for a "public nuisance" event, not state law. And god knows about human impact of this event. Most visible is the trash left behind. Secondly, my fishing buddy told me that I should interview a bunch of people coming out of the water and asked them if they peed in the water. When you drink beer... you pee... a lot. And so, we come to directly, visibly see how the ocean is treated as the collective toilet bowl... most of the time perceived indirectly... and now... both can be visibly, tangibly linked.

Three messages.

One positive. Floatopia as community building and self-entertainment. The Epic College Party experience, Animal House, Gondry style.

One negative. Negative environmental impact on masses of people of the ocean, trashing, peeing in water.

One twisted. Political irony. Another living proof that the MLPA process was largely a fish-o-centric process, in which it was largely emphasizing fishing restrictions without much consideration of many other human impacts on the ocean... including the smashing Floatopia events.

The audience would be two-fold (1) to inform participants in the MLPA process of other ocean hazards besides fishing, and (2) to inform college students about the negative environmental impacts of Floatopia, the incoming marine protected areas in their backyard, and their reconsideration of the way how they choose to party, with a level of environmental consciousness?!

A good article I found was KCOY (and of course, even a graduate student resorted to being educated through Wikipedia).

Some questions to ask partygoers (1) Why do you participate in Floatopia? (2) How did you hear about it? (3) Did you pee in the water? (4) Do you know what a marine protected area (MPA) is?

517. A Continued Multi-Media Narrative for "California's Fading Wildflowers: Lost Legacy and Biological Invasions" By Richard and Victoria Minnich

Basically, last quarter I had an opportunity to attend a panel discussion of the University of California Press (with Naomi Schneider, Chuck Crumly, Niels Hooper, Jenny Wapner, and Lynne Withey), and my heart was thumping, my eyes burning with flames of anger: "Who in the hoohahey was drunk or tweaked or high or stoned enough to publish a WILDFLOWER book with BLACK and WHITE pictures?" (My father's book here: California's Fading Wildflowers: Lost Legacy and Biological Invasions, in which I was the ghost author of the existential last chapter). One kudos though. The book cover, which highlighted a meloncholy landscape hue of purple lupines and faint orange (poppies?), was very well artistically accelerated. No complaints there. But the black and white interior...?!!

Well, given the current economic crisis of nearly all publishing houses, I had to calm myself down, lower my blood pressure, take a step back and say... no, maybe people weren't drunk or tweaked or high or stoned (even my committee member Dr. Milton Love told me that he had to apply for an extra grant from the Packard Foundation in order to have his UC Press fish book published in color)... but this is clearly a case in which economics forces people to make irrational decisions, like publishing wildflower books in black and white!

At first the UC Press told my dad there would be an insert within the book of color images of wildflowers. Then that was taken away and all images inside would be black and white. And then many black and white images were edited out, which is absurd because it doesn't cost anything at all to include more black and white images (at least in self-publishing venues). My current environmental history professor said he will be allowed ten black and white images per chapter for his book. Lucky him, I think that's an even better deal than my dad's.

It turned out that I never asked the black-and-white image question to the UC Press panel back in March. I couldn't say that I chickened out, but I decided to ask a more pertinent question: "My name is Victoria Minnich, and I'm a Ph.D. student in environmental media. I am surrounded by a generation of students who are not only information overloaded, but they have greater tendency to process information visually and multi-media formats. What is the UC Press doing about this to account for this shift in information processing? Is multi-media packaging crafted with each book? And what is your response to the creation of Logicomix, a graphic novel on the history of Bertrand Russell's life?"

The response of the audience and the UC Press panel was overwhelmingly positive. When I was asking the question, I ended up watching people in the crowd nodding their heads in agreement. Naomi Schneider, who has worked in several prestigious New York publishing houses before joining the UC Press, stated that she would be very interested in seeing a graphic novel. Not a bad idea for a graphic novel Ph.D! Naomi heavily emphasized the NEED TO BE GENERALIST AND INTERDISCIPLINARY when submitting a book idea to the UC Press when the vast majority of academia is polarizing itself toward the opposite direction of hyperspecialization... and a graphic novel would definitely be a work of broadening horizons.

Chuck Crumly, a senior editor with a biology background, also mentioned a little snag in the process. Chuck flat out stated that the acquisitions and marketing team would be ECSTATIC to have a graphic novel come in as a project, but the DIRECTORIAL BOARD of ACADEMICS would most likely RESIST the idea. Chuck stated that we would need more turnaround time to eliminate the old hoagies and insert the newbies who would then be much more willing to embrace multi-media representations of academic topics... including graphic novels. Which is truth down to the bone demonstrating that academics and science is not truth, it's just the politics of common agreement on ideas. So sad.

Then again, when outer discourage starts to form Sylvia Plath belljars around me, the mind of environmental media, the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS) conference comes to town (in San Diego), and I meet a potpourri of people who are ecstatic about what I'm doing, and I receive nothing but encouragement. Someone I met at this meeting who was most encouraging was Stuart Greenwell, the Art Director for Science Magazine! Lucky me to meet him! I ended up helping Stuart out as a volunteer at the "fancy, sophisticated version of Kinkos," or the room full of cubby holes containing press releases for the latest and greatest of scientists doing presentations and getting drilled by the nation's top science journalists. Stuart gave me an orientation of the room. "See all this? It's analog. This is a generation that is going to phase out, die out like dinosaurs. You (as an environmental media student) are on the right track. What you are doing right now WILL be the future."

So now, I guess it's just a matter of phasing out the incumbent, old professorial dinosaurs in analog mode. Why wait for the clock? Why not dominate? Why not accelerate the process of their extinction? Why not be that invasive species biological bully of environmental media? I don't like waiting. I like doing... now....

I always carried the idea with me to continue this black-and-white book of my father (talking about "fading") in living color, through multi-media narrative--including photography, film, even cartoons--especially since the spring of 2005, when I shot my first solid set of images of the historic once-in-a-hundred-years wildflower bloom (mostly of the deserts of southern California). The photographic collection (included below) demonstrated at the time a mastered set of compositional skills, but unfortunately at the period of life I was technologically primitive: I only had a Nikon Coolpix 5700 and a laptop computer with limited processing skills. I didn't even know how to use Photoshop back in 2005! I was a a technological IDIOT! Now I am working with a new computer of high processing power, which allows me to shoot and work with RAW images. Yay, technology is allowing Josie Schmosette Consumer (that be me) to go pro!

But this dormant little seed re-emerged and blossomed to pursue once again for four reasons: (1) direct, face-to-face contact with the source of the black-and-white images, the UC Press (2) expanded technologies and workflow (as discussed above), (3) SPRING BREAK took me to places that were overflowing with wildflowers (okay, only in Baja California, southern California was pretty weak with wildflower blooms). Amen for spring break! and (4) my friend Shannon Switzer (Girl Chases Globe) gave me advice that she received from members of the International League of Conservation Photographers (basically, a whole bunch of famous National Geographic type photographers)--the advice being that it's best to know a region, a subject, very, very, very well (like your own backyard), and this is the way how you will master storytelling of a system, in photography and written word, and this will be your ticket towards bigger and better things.



Caption for Portfolio 1 Above: California's Fading Wildflowers: Lost Legacy and Biological Invasions (Portfolio 1). By Richard and Victoria Minnich. A continued multi-media narrative based on Dr. Richard Minnich's book published by the University of California Press in 2008. Portfolio 1 is a "warm-up" for the more intensive and extensive portfolios. Unnatural is Beautiful at Emma Wood State Beach, just north of Ventura, south of Carpinteria, California. Invasive mustard (brassica nigra) dominates the eroding slopes by the coast, interspersed with a few patches of native Encelia californica. April 2010.

Key words: multi-media storytelling, richard minnich, California's Fading Wildflowers, Lost Legacy, biological invasion, Naomi Schneider, Chuck Crumley, graphic novel, Logicomix, University of California Press, Stuart Greenwell, analog versus digital, analog versus multi-media, American Association for the Advancement of Science

516. "Strings, Boxes, and Plastic Wrap" A First Poem from the Bahia de Los Angeles

"Strings, Boxes, and Plastic Wrap." First poem written from the trip to the Bahia de Los Angeles, Mexico, with Jules, March 18-26. The PDF can be found here:

http://sites.google.com/site/stokastika2/stringsboxesplasticwrappoem.pdf.

What can I say? This is the first time I am writing in my blog for a long time. This is the first time I am sitting in my room in Goleta--my clean room, I finally cleaned up thoroughly (removing about 500 spiders, I'm sure!) this past weekend--this is the first time in over four months I am not running around like a graduate-student-maniac, and I am purposefully slowing myself down to inspect every thought.

This poem is an example of a slowed-down inspection. My mind invented a poem this morning when I was jogging along the beaches of Ventura, and I managed to hammer it out to some final version a couple of hours later. This poem is a metaphorical comparison of the lifestyles of "first world" and "third world" countries, and the resulting question is: who is more deprived? I feel I have much more to write about with our trip to the Bahia de Los Angeles, except I am feeling unhappy and creatively stifled being here in Santa Barbara. I will continue my travel writings tomorrow.

535. "Uncertain Moments in Commercial Fishing" Manifesto at the Brink of Summer Vacation

Uncertain Moments in Commercial Fishing" Manifesto Monologue came about on June 16, 2010, though I chose the posting to be in April of 2010. The PDF can be found here: http://sites.google.com/site/stokastika2/uncertainmomentsincommercialfishingPDF.pdf.

Last night, June 16, 2010, was the first time in five years I was going through a noticeable, visible panic attack. I was in San Diego, now I'm in Santa Barbara. I was at Jx's house, and I was feeling weak and vulnerable, for I just started working through the instruction manual for Logic Pro music software (I'm trying to transfer from Sonar Home Studio) and realized that my venturing through the mechanics of music audio production would finally lead me to my salvation of bare minimum professional multi-media production, but then had to be interrupted by the realities that I had to head back up to Santa Barbara, because the following day entailed the initiation of a root-canal process and two meetings with two different professors. Then again, my being in San Diego embodied the first time of my escaping from Santa Barbara for an entire month of brutal labor of "reviewing the previous literature and paying homage to all those who did work before me... spending a significant fraction of my life worrying about what other people think rather than further developing what I think." Fxck! I hate literature reviews.... But nevertheless, I do learn new things and somehow I do build character in the process... then again... I feel more institutionalized... more so a part of the establishment... lovely.... To take things back even further, I had come to realize that this entire academic year I had been mentally bulldozed and riddled with a bunch of unfinished projects, but I emerged from my being in the midst of the intellectual academic hurricane with new directions, digging extremely deep inside myself and feel that I have the answer to the question of "what's next in Victoria's life" whereas in the previous summer I did NOT feel that way. So I've spent the ENTIRE LAST 9 MONTHS HOLDING MY MENTAL BREATH and it's the first time I've had the opportunity to ask "WHO AM I?" and "WHERE IN THE HXLL AM I AT?" being in San Diego, far far away from Santa Barbara, the utopia vacation land, yet riddled with my own academic problems... It's a paradoxical landscape at this moment... and last night was the LAST thing I wanted to do, drive in the middle of the night back to Santa Barbara to wrap up loose ends, talk to professors, and have the worst and most graphic and physical dental operation I had ever experienced in my 10 years of sitting on the dental seat. So here I am, uncovering the hidden prison of my mind--Logic Pro Music software--uprooted from my internal vulnerabilities, forced to return to the land of academidrama I didn't even want to think about and then right before I leave Jx vents to me about his concerns with the "conditions" of the ocean and how the last three months have not been money-makers, it's the first time it's ever happened to him in his entire fishing career... miserable April, like usual, then these blasting red tides with no ocean circulation, and now small vessel advisories due to excess wind.... There's no break in bad weather.... Jx vented pretty badly and then reminded me to be a bit more considerate with my use of coffee cups and the tiniest of things, combined with his fishing concerns (see the manifesto above) just placed me in this super ultimate vulnerable emotional state, where I feel everything is swirling and unstable and that everything in the whole world is "my fault" and then I find myself in this mode of uncontrollable heavy breathing and crying and wailing alone in the car at night, my sleeves covered with snot and these gang-banger cars passing by me with heavy loud rap music right outside the Lemon Grove Starbucks, in which I ventured in, trying to stay bare minimum composed though my face was blotched with brown-redness and the two insensitive women (or do I say bxtches) behind the counter inspected my one-time re-use coffee cup from the Albertsons down the street as if they were holding an envelop possibly containing anthrax, and with the immense uncertain snootiness the older woman rejected the possibility of a 50-cent refill because "it's not the same store" but then she mumbled "but we have coffee brewing right now, it will be about three minutes... but don't worry about it, I'll just bring one out to you," and though this seems to be a kind gesture in words, the older woman's tone of voice was of alien disgust, as if I were contaminated by the Gulf Oil spill or something, and I just burst into tears right then and there in front of those two snooty girls and barely handled my cup, sat down at a table right be the doorway trying to compose myself, but it was a miserable failure... just this ultimate moment of vulnerability where my exposure of uncontrollable emotion is greeted by insensitivity of the humans around me, I just knew, yes yes, this is a Post-Modern Moment (or Post Modern Second or PMS), or so I now know... Victoria Anonymous, Terra Anonymous... one and the same... human indifference to anyone and anything they don't know and are not attached to.... I'm staring at a few hundred humans across the street at the farmer's market, and now I feel like I'm staring at round stones rolling down a hill, I'm staring at tumbleweed blown across the Mojave Desert, I'm in a city and I feel more desolate and alone than when I'm out on the Pacific Ocean or at the Bahia de Los Angeles, so I was sooo uncontained that I just walked out the Starbucks and stormed away, back into the car, without picking up any coffee, it was the perfectly wrong moment to encounter ultimate bxtchiness of lady Starbucks baristas.

Before I left in the dark, I called Jx one more time and he calmed me down some, reminding me that we all need to vent, it's a part of the process... which is very true, but my vulnerability was unbearable at the moment.... He cheered me up with some text messages and cartoon ideas, and after about a half-hour of driving I was calming down... though just that half-hour before I was crying and wailing and short of breath that I could barely hold the steering wheel, let alone see through my watery eyes. As I continued driving up north, parsing the drive into "counties," from San Diego to Orange County (south and north) to Los Angeles, then Ventura and SB, Jx's manifesto sat heavier and heavier in me. It was so sorrowful to me, to give up.... To give up a passion, a self-carved profession that was half labor, half hobby and play, that had worked successfully for over ten years, and for a multitude of reasons all feeding off of each other... this profession no longer works, no longer viable... for more than a few days... an entire season? One thing I can say for sure, it is one thing for a scientist to write about how "all fishermen have to do is change their profession" in the literature in cold, nonchalant text, and then it's another thing to experience the venting worries of a fisherman or fishermen who have become close friends. These include worries... to a point of depression (worse than a bad funk). This distant, cold fine print problem in the literature suddenly becomes magnifyingly personal. A visua-emotional landscape mapped onto the impersonal... it's the least I can do in my life: experience the fine technical print, not just read it.

All the reasons as to why Jx is a commercial fisherman in the first place welled up in my mind: (1) to escape humans, escape civilization (2) to escape the absurdity of having a job in a box, a cubicle (3) to integrate mental and physical labor (4) to be your own boss, impose your own labors on yourself rather than do the labors of another human's will: all the ideals of such work just tapering away... to succumb to the drudgery work of a machinist society, where everyone is working for everyone else and not for their own brains.... Oh but there must be other fruitful and meaningful and connected forms of labors out there... It just takes a while to poke around and figure out where they're at. I spoke with Peter about this manifesto, and he informed me that many natural resource users feel this way: they are under the gun, at the whims of the agents of the environment, and then society comes down on them with additional layers of constraints, it can be unbearably overwhelming... like me... having a panic attack. I just think that "living your passions is no longer financially viable" is a sin of a mass-scale economic system. People are behaving to satisfy the vicious metabolism of a giant machine, rather than fulfilling their inner needs, exploring their inner souls. We're all being swallowed by the giant machine... if only we could somehow survive being at the fringes of the grid. I was thinking about the sportfishing option for temporary work... "You might as well catch people to catch fish. After all, there seems to be a lot more humans than fishes, so you might as well catch naive, vacation-going humans instead..." but then some of the charms of the labors of commercial fishing vanish.... What was the means of livelihood metamorphoses to Disney entertainment of the ocean (in part)....

It's toward the end of June 17, 2010, and somehow I have survived the day. I had the roughest dental work done on me... a root canal at the UCSB on-campus dental offices... lost so much of a molar.... I'm still sore... the dental assistant was a bit of a ditz, but the dentist was hard core. Today I was a phenomenal patient and Dr. Montgomery said he liked to "divorce the patient from the tooth," (quite existential!) so I'm a great patient with a troublesome tooth. It turned out that one of my four tooth tunnels inherently calcified, "nature's root canal" which was against the grain of textbook procedures. After that I had a super discussion about ecocriticism, Literature and the Environment with Dr. Shewry, and then wrote most of this blog at Kinkos in Goleta, and then talked with Dr. Alagona about marine environmental history and a whole bunch of other cool stuff (in which he cheered me up, as usual) and here I am, a little less bummed than before....

520. "Colors Before the Sunrise" A Song? A Poem? A Piece of Vispo? (Plus A Discussion on Vic's Commitment to Cartoons)

"Colors Before the Sunrise" Poem / Song / Vispo in Poetry Format. The PDF of this poem can be found here: http://sites.google.com/site/stokastika2/colorsbeforesunriseSONGPOEM.pdf.


Image displays a typical state of pre-sunrise (dusk, so they call it?!) at the Bahia de Los Angeles, Mexico. Image taken toward the end of March of 2010.

A quick effort toward VISPO for the song-poem "Colors Before the Sunrise."

The end of March seems far off (it's now the end of April). I was in a state of a massive, tangled knot from winter quarter of 2010. I was intellectual roadkill that needed a giant restoration project. But Jules swept me away to his and Duke's place to the Bahia de Los Angeles for a good 8-9 days. It was a much needed calibration. Just crossing the border from the United States into Mexico, venturing into brand new territory for myself (south of San Quintin) opened up my eyes, loosened me up, and brought me into a state of establishing new inner-outer perspectives. The people of Mexico barely had any resources and they made the most of what they had. I noticed that people were more attached to each other simply because they truly needed each other's help... whereas in the United States... it seems like visceral attachment to others has been largely replaced by technology, and so there is not much need to communicate and collaborate with others. We commune with machines instead. For about a week or so I was thankful for some clean water and a flushing toilet. I was surrounded by a land of unfinished and abandoned projects... which kind of felt like my mind... externalized.... Quite soon I started realizing that things in the United States are a bit too easy for our own good and once we get in our habits, it's sooo easy for our minds to take for granted what we have and not realize that we have what we need....

So Jules gave me the best possible present... that even my parents haven't given me for so long.... He swept me away into a foreign land full of empty, serene landscapes and depravity/scarcity of human resources.... His presence allowed my inner self to unravel and untangle a little bit... and re-prioritize.... I largely focused on taking photographs in RAW format (man, I'm officially professional now... well... almost...) and downloading music and photography software... which took me a couple of days (even internet was a scarce resource!). I became a sensual, visual creature, visually absorbing the landscape, ignoring the Spanish (I actually enjoy being in a foreign country where I don't know what the hxll anyone is saying, so I view humans as chattering monkeys and end up only visually processing the landscapes). So I took lots of photographs and soaked up the landscape as much as possible--which was a strange ecosystem indeed. Bahia de Los Angeles is a desert right by an inland Sea of Cortez (hence in my poem "desert's ocean"), which totally threw me off because you don't get these kinds of ecosystems in California (or combinatory ecosystems--desert and ocean right next to each other?!!).

Also when I was down in Bahia de Los Angeles, I figured out how to use my new SANSA mp3 player, and retroactively, I'm quite happy I purchased it. The new versions of the IPOD shuffles are appallingly bad (way too small, no control of audio on the device, forcing you to wear ear buds which hurt my ears in an ergonomic sense). I went on fantastic jogs along the beach and through the salt marsh, even one jog from the LA Bay dumpster site all the way down the hill back to Duke and Jule's house. The final jogs I took were toward the south end of LA Bay toward Larry and Lois' house. There was a lot less traffic (quite a bumpy dirt road!) and the last structures I passed were open-ended houses where squid fishermen were staying... and even a micro squid processing plant. And it was these jogs where the poem/song started formulating. The idea of "Colors Before the Sunrise" came to me in my half-sleep I think on the 4th day of the trip. I told Jules and he liked the title. Then during my last two jogs along the bumpy dirt road, out by the cordone cactus and the spindly cirios and other interesting vegetation structures I was listening to a song entitled "The Passenger" by Iggy Pop (to be honest, I was attracted to the initial melody but I had no affinity with the vocals) . And through this happy backdrop melody (with a few minor chords), I began to formulate my song/poem. It took two jogs along the same road to get the main bulk of the poem worked out (plus a few ideas in my car drive home, back to Riverside and Santa Barbara to start spring quarter). On the last day at the Bahia de Los Angeles, I woke up extremely early in order to have the opportunity to take photographs of the sunrise (which I was procrastinating to do) and last minute images of Duke's neighbor's yard (Carolina's?), which is where the above photograph came from....

I suppose I had been sitting on this song/poem for a while because of my personal epiphanies on how to channel my energy in this society. After my initial experiences in approaching "literary journals" with my poetry and short stories, I had become increasingly frustrated. I talked to Barry Spacks about facing my "string of rejections" with poetry and short stories, and not only that, how literary journals are now failing to respond to the input of work. What a complete waste of my time, waste of my life to endlessly send off pieces of writing to literary journals, only to receive thousands of rejections, and more "no responses." Barry Spacks commented that "things are starting to slip"--that the sacredity of human transactions is vanishing as we interact as if we are in a plasma state as a pinball machine only found at the center of the sun. The Rejected Life is the only life that most writers know nowadays. Barry told me that if he were stranded in the desert for seven days without any food or water... he would crawl to the nearest computer and his death words would be to write a very polite rejection letter to all the people in the world he never had the time to respond to (given that he were an editor of a literary journal), wishing them well, hoping that one day their poetry and short stories would finally find a home. This was so visually striking to me, I hope one day to make a short film featuring Barry and the Rejected Writer Life. Good advice for all his students... in the form of a flick!

After that conversation, which was about a couple weeks ago... how Barry said this society was "slipping" whether it was about even providing a nice or even RUDE rejection letter... it was that moment where I just completely gave up on the idea of submitting my poetry to places (except every once in a while to particular people and specific circumstances). My poetry is published here on this blog. What more could I possibly want? Literary journals are not my venue, not my audience. What is the chance that any literary journal editor would understand the fusion of science, art, creative writing, and human-environmental change? 0.000001%. Sorry, it's a nearly stone-solid truth. Most "creative writers" don't have much comprehension of science, let alone incorporate science into their writing or processing of everyday life. So, whatever. What a waste to deal with people who don't even know how to diagnose your validity and contribution to society.

The other problem is that anyone can be a poet or a writer. Little ten-year old kids can write poems and short stories, let alone little old ladies on their 20th year of retirement who have nothing else to do but sit on their porch and write the 5 billionth poem on the metaphorical representation of sunsets in their lives. Writing is analog. Linear.... But combining writing and art requires one to think spatially-temporally... non-linearly... in essence... right brain left handed. And just through this thought, I am eliminating 90% of the population of storytellers, which consist of linear-thinking, left-brained people who express themselves in writing. And then to combine words with images to tell a story with a consistent set of characters, settings, and plots?! I think I am eliminating 50% of the remaining right brained people. And then for this story to make a contribution to society and the environment? Basically, there is close to no one left. I have no competitition. My Biologically Incorrect Cartoons are so unique that they stick out like an eyesore. And if I want to write a poem... it's gotta be in cartoon format. I can dump most of the rest of my artwork into cartoons. I have my own niche and close to no one having the ability to compete. I just have to keep chugging along and cranking out as many cartoons as possible, while simultaneously building a compilation of emails of people who I know will appreciate the cartoons and can provide editorial advice in the process of making my first few hundred cartoons (before expanding to a subscribed email list service).

Plus, through all the pressures of my Ph.D. committee meeting in February of last quarter... combined with an overstimulating environmental history course with Dr. Peter Alagona, Terra and Buz became fully resurrected into my mind... except this time, it was a near-completely visual format (rather than a long manuscript). I came to grips with the notion that the Question Reality manuscript was not a failure. My Question Reality manuscript will never die. It is the fundamental baseline for all else to grow with my cartoons. I will give interested folks a piece of my mind in mentally digestible cartoons (a little bit every day), that will create a continuum of experience form the QR manuscript to my acquired knowledge as of today....

The other thing I noticed in the publishing world is that to approach a publisher (for writing), you need a literary agent. But to approach a publisher of independent or alternative cartoons? You directly submit to the editor and publisher. It goes to show there aren't that many in the pool of storytelling through cartoons. Bless my right brain... take good care of it, and give it a work out every day! Nevertheless, writing is always a part of the creative process, I will still have to write to even evolve my cartoons and films! It's just that in order to make my WRITING financially viable, I am going to have to prove to people that I am unique and that I'm going to have to EARN MY RIGHT TO WRITE through multi-media arts (cartoons, music, film) before I return to the pursuit of writing... safely... with a little bit of financial compensation....

And after a week of panicking before my Ph.D. committee meeting, I established my own SI Units for cartooning. Fine Point Black Sharpie. White Computer Paper. Portable Scanning Machine. Photoshopping the Fine Details. Black and White and One Shade of Gray and Occasionally a Gaussian Blur Effect with Lighter Lines to establish a Hierarchy of Lines. My cartoons are evolving to higher quality... and slightly different proportions... just like how Calvin and Hobbes evolved. Barry has been very supportive and I send him lots of my cartoons "fresh off the press." We agreed that once a narrative has become apparent to the reader with my cartoons... and/or once I reach about 200 cartoons, we will choose 12 of the best cartoons and approach the Santa Barbara Independent to start a weekly run... which would be so exciting (Barry knows two editors and I know two editors, one editor overlaps)! Barry recommended I check out the "independent" magazine scene, with"Village Voice" being the top (in New York?). He said that incorporating the themes of science into cartoons in a very satirical, but mentally digestible way... is unique and a very valuable pursuit, especially in these times, eh?!! Ya... Science should be culture. But American "culture" is so divorced from science. We have become a user-friendly-push-button-gossip-about-your-neighbor's-clothes type of society... and it's rare for conversations to go much deeper than the shallow schmoozing... even at a university donating charity event loaded with nerdy professors (which I witnessed LAST weekend).

So, here I am, bitterly Blog-publishing this poem that expresses my "inner soul" at a given point in space and time, which separate from standards of society--is a beautiful thing to pursue, self-expression--except that society has destroyed the enjoyment of self-expression through the persistent psychological devastation of Rejection Letters (or No Response, better yet), only to redirect my thoughts toward the abandonment of efforts toward being rejected 5 million times in attempt to publish poetry and short stories through the traditional BS avant garde avenues (though Barry said it would be a grand idea for me to start a science-art multi-media literary journal, scientific research exploration through multi-media arts--so the door is not completely closed!). And then I am again redirected toward the positive route of cartooning about science, politics, and human-environmental change through my charming little innocent kids, Terra and Buz.

I didn't expect all this information to come out on this blog, but stream-of-conscious venting is all for the better for my own clarity of thought. I am going to have to now condition myself... mentally divorce the PROCESS OF WRITING POETRY AND SHORT STORIES from the PROCESS OF PUBLISHING. I have to convince myself that none of my ideas are in final form (or an audience magnet) unless they take shape of a cartoon (or a cartoon-driven poem-short-story), a piece of music or performance slam poetry, or a film. It's amazing to think that my mind can construct any story format--ranging from scientific articles to poetry to short stories to photographs to cartoons to paintings to pieces of music to film to websites to whatever the next new medium is--but I'm starting to feel the pressures of establishing a unique niche in society--the need to be perceived by society as a "needed storyteller" that needs about $20,000 a year in order to have health insurance and a roof over my head to continue storytelling. Certain doors are "closing" (but not completely) right now but other doors are opening full-wide open. Creative survival is a matter of desperation. As one of my recent cartoons discussed my need to avoid the MacDonald's hamburger flipping treadmill that close to everyone else is pursuing, whether in a science lab or at MacDonald's.

I have more to write about with my positive experiences in the Bahia de Los Angeles... plus LOTS of PHOTOGRAPHS! This poem was just an introduction.