Wednesday, July 15, 2015

The Key

"For me context is the key - from that comes the meaning of everything."--Kenneth Noland

This quote is one of my favorites. In finding the exact wording, however, I found the original speaker: Kenneth Noland. A 20th Century American abstract painter. Context is incredibly important in everything. It struck me first as a little odd but then as exceedingly fitting to abstract art.

Abstract art has a complicated reputation. People either "get it" or they don't. Many people don't see the point. I used to be one of them. Now, for two reasons, I rather like abstract art. First, you don't have to understand art for it to have meaning. It is the result of a creative endeavor that has been produced by a person. It is because it is. (I realize this is circular reasoning and a rather large logical fallacy.) Second, abstract art is just that. Abstract. Each piece means something different to everyone who experiences it. Like the wind. Or love. Now, you may interpret a painting as just some splotches of paint on a canvas. You may interpret it as the visual representation of a bridge or rain or hope.

This is where context comes in. The painter may have created something abstract because there are no words, or even pictures, that can capture what they want.

This also happens with language. While it is malleable, language is incredibly confining. Pain, for example. Doctors ask, at least in America, to rate pain on a scale of ten. If all your life you've only experienced minor injuries, your definition of what "10" is will be significantly less than someone who's broken their femur or experienced childbirth. Brian Regan, a comedian, has a bit about pain and hospitals, available here.

My point is language is dependent on who is speaking. When I say to my friends, "You're a dork", I don't mean that to be an insult. I generally mean something along the lines of: "I like you. You are funny. The things that make you you are interesting." When I say to my friends, "You're an idiot with a stupid face" (not that I say that but I think it an awful lot), I mean something closer to, "You are one of my favorite people and I miss you." Neither of these statements are said with malice, but they well could be. Context, though, defines their interpretation.

This is not limited to language. I visualize most things, even non-visual things, as snapshots. Every interaction is a polaroid and my brain is littered with them--taped across the walls of my self, scattered across my mental floor, woven into the quilt I wrap my consciousness in to sleep. The stark white borders separating experiences in some places, but in others, I've cut off the borders and taped pictures together to form a whole. The smell of freshly brewed coffee has two notable pictures: one from elementary school and one of my grandparents. The pictures of York are borderless and stitched together haphazardly; they spread across my mind like dandelions in a yard.

Meaning is derived from context. A fact has meaning because it was chosen and because it is being used. Nothing exists in a vacuum. Who we are is defined by our experiences. The language we use, and the definitions of the words therein, are defined by people over time.

Context provides depth. It is the difference between wading in a puddle and swimming in the ocean.

Monday, July 13, 2015

Retail Life

The thing about working retail is that it makes you, at least in my experience, more understanding. There is nothing to make you nicer to other retail workers than dealing with jerks. From angry people on the phone to screaming children to people who leave things where they don't belong (either two inches away from its proper space or the other side of the store). You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat their cashier.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said, "You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him." While I wouldn't say retail workers can do nothing for the people in the stores, the idea remains. If you are rude, your cashier isn't going to go out of their way to help you. If you demand the worker "look in the back" for something, you're not getting what you're looking for. If you get mad at the person on the phone trying to transfer you to the correct department, well, they aren't going to try terribly hard to connect you. And I'm sorry. That's probably not what you want to hear. But, you might say, I'm the customer, I'm always right. Sorry Charlie. You're not.

Picking up after people is not my job. I don't get paid to pick up empty beverage cups or the toys left in my area. I don't get paid to fold the clothes you decide to leave inside out on the top of hanging racks yards away from where they belong. There are fitting rooms if you want to try something on. It is not job security for me. It is simply more work. "Keeping the salesfloor looking neat" is not the same as "picking up after guests".

This is reading a lot like a rant. And I guess it sort of is. I know most of you aren't the kind to act this way. I wasn't raised to treat people that way, and if I didn't own it, I wasn't supposed to touch it. (I will admit, there are times when kindness and understanding is not possible, but, generally, kindness helps.)

And that brings me to my point. I have a life philosophy that we are here to make life easier for others. Not, like, in massive self sacrificing ways. Because you do need to take care of yourself first; like on airplanes, put your own oxygen mask on before helping others. But in little ways that are not hard and don't detract from your quality of life. Like saying hello to you cashier before you tell them how many of something you have. Saying thank you when someone tells you they'll transfer you to the person you want.

People don't often. Which is why I'm not terribly surprised when, at least in America, we still have to fight for basic rights. If you help someone, or increase their quality of life, you are not losing something. It's not like you have a limited supply of "thank you's" and rights are not zero sum.

Working retail has shown me a number of reasons to despair about society. But it also gives me hope. Talking to my work friends, who deal with the same people and are tired of the same things, but who are still nice and kind when it matters, who are, by and large, good people, balances out the bad. I've learned a lot about myself and about people working retail.

So, how do you treat your cashier?

Transmedia Narratives

As most of you have probably grasped at this point, I love narratives. And, once again, I'm going to blog about them.

I know I've blogged about the "Lizzie Bennet Diaries" and "Emma Approved" (which, if you've not watched one or both, do yourself a favor and start). This time, I want to discuss "Green Gables Fables" and "Classic Alice".

First, "Green Gables Fables".

When I was in elementary school, we had reading programs that were based on "reading levels" and I hated them. I liked reading OK but the idea of having to take a quiz after reading a book was stupid. Who cares what Character A did in chapter 4 when it has no bearing on the meaning of the book? Part of my problem, I realized, was my reading level was above grade level, and eventually, higher than the books in the library. In short, I was bored. Then, in sixth grade, my mom introduced my to "Anne of Green Gables" and the other six books in the series. And I was hooked. (In hindsight, most of the books I read prior to Anne were about boys, and, really, how was I supposed to be interested?) In the last decade, I've learned a lot of people have read the first book, but not the rest. And the last one is amazing.

As you might be able to guess, "Green Gables Fables" is a modern-day retelling. The transmedia aspects are extremely well done. The second season is starting soon--but the Twitter accounts are still tweeting. I love how they've taken the characters from the late 19th Century and put them in the 21st Century. I'm looking forward to the upcoming videos.

Second, "Classic Alice".

As opposed to the other three series I've mentioned, "Classic Alice" is a completely different take on classic novels. In the series, Alice is a college student who wants to be a writer. In order to write more realistic stories, she reads books and lives according to the stories. Which is more difficult than you might imagine. Like the other series, the creators of "Classic Alice" have made Twitter accounts and such for the characters. The accounts keep the story going in between the videos. Of course, following them on Twitter isn't necessary to understand the story arcs, but it doesn't hurt.

One of the things I like best about "Classic Alice" is the commitment to the fans, and the fans commitment to the series. Both the series I've written about this time have had fundraiser campaigns to be able to fund further "seasons", and while I'm not in a place where I can support them (I hope to be eventually), a lot of people are. And I love that. People see something, like the thing, and, when the thing needs support, support it because they want more of the thing.

"Classic Alice" recently passed a follower milestone and decided to offer a free transmedia experience to anyone who signed up. Of course I was intrigued. So I filled out the form, including the character I want to learn more about (Cara, if you're wondering). The transmedia experience is diary entries--the first of which was mailed to me, the rest will be email.

And this is why I'm excited. New ways of telling stories are always exciting. Instead of just reading about the characters, or seeing them in a vlog, transmedia series allow the "viewer" to see more of the characters. With the twist in "Classic Alice" we can see how a fictional character interprets classic literature and how the lessons/ideas in those books can be translated into modern times.

Of course, I'm not making any original points here. I just want to share how cool it is. There is an excellent TEDx talk on the topic, and how it relates to our lives available here. So, go forth friends, and watch some vlogs!

Big News

So. I've not blogged recently. Oops. But, I've some big news, if not exactly recent news. In the fall I will be returning to school. Yay! I'm doing a Masters program at Simmons College out in Boston. Yay new places! It is in Gender and Cultural Studies and I'm super excited. I'm excited to go to a new place and meet new people and learn new things.

To answer a few questions: No, I've never been to Boston (although my dad and I are going out for a couple days next week). Yes, I already have a Masters degree. No, two isn't too many; if anything, one isn't enough.

But, you say, why this program? What's interesting about Gender and Cultural Studies? Everything, I say. It is interdisciplinary and looks at related fields to determine why we are the way we are. What our story is and how we tell it.

I can't explain it well, but, hopefully, I'll be able to explain it more as time passes.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

1776

One of my favorite musicals is 1776, which, as you might be able to guess, is about the Continental Congress' decision for American independence. And, other than the singing and dancing, it is incredibly accurate. I originally say 1776 at Ford's Theatre in 2012. I then listened to the film's soundtrack and have since watched parts of the 1972 film. (Notably, John Adams is portrayed by William Daniels, and seeing Mr. Feeny sing and dance is excellent.)

There are a few instances where historical accuracy is fudged for dramatic reasons, which is always the case. Some of the characterizations are manipulated--composites made of various men, later personalities imposed on younger men. Some members of the Congress are not included. Conversations within meetings of the Congress are largely based on later writings of what occurred or conjecture.

The songs are the best part. From the hilarity of "The Lees of Old Virginia" to the tragedy of "Mama Look Sharp" to the brutality of "Molasses to Rum". With a couple of others, these are my favorite songs. "The Lees of Old Virginia" is funny--it's light-hearted and comedic--and provides a plethora of adverbs. "Molasses to Rum" details the Triangle Trade that dominated the trans-atlantic economy.

If you are looking for an unconventional way to celebrate Independence Day this year, I would greatly suggest listening to the soundtrack.