A student in Colorado, looking for some sort of synthesis--the big picture, encompassing all the strangeness in the universe--but willing to settle for the philosophic or poetic lens.
Here is one final thanks to all of my readers, especially for all of your wonderful comments over the last week. I know I'll miss blogging here. In fact, I doubt I'll be able to stay gone for too long. I promise, (barring any truly chaotic circumstances) that I will return. I may start a new blog then, since I was ready to change themes anyways. I'll find a way to let you know when I return to blogging, even if it isn't under the same "Chaotic Utopia" banner.
In the meantime, you can find me in any of the following places:
Facebook (though I warn you, I'm just barely starting it--it'll be a few before it looks like a real facebook page! In fact, I haven't even figured out how to link to my profile here. I'll update that link when I do.)
Game reviews at JayisGames (This link takes you to my author page, where you can find the latest review by me, even if they are few and far between.)
The Ditch Project (I'm designing the website for this event, as well as preparing labels for a series of historical maps for a museum exhibit. It's fun, but the project probably won't be complete until May.)
ChaoticUtopia.com (For now, it looks worse than it did when I moved to ScienceBlogs in the first place. I plan to clean it up and use it as a portfolio site. That update might happen as late as March.)
Writing a historical novel. You can read it when I'm done!
Now, before I go, I really feel like I owe you folks a ton of gratitude. Writing here gave me a place in the world, a community. You all helped me justify my own existence. And that's no small thing. It's like this song, No Rain, by Blind Melon:
I feel just like that bumblebee. Yay!
Now, finally, I'd like to leave you with one last piece of fractal art, and a bit of advice. First, the fractal:
These layered fractals, filled with fractal Brownian motion patterns, were designed to look like these images showing heat being absorbed and emitted by our planet.
While this is obviously meant to show the way heat is trapped in our atmosphere, thus adding to climate change, I'm sharing it for more broad reasons. Dynamic change is an essential part of our world. It's something that happens on not only a planetary scale, but in our day-to-day lives. That's where the bit of advice comes in.These changes are often so complex, that they seem to come in waves. When you are hit by these waves of change, and start to feel overwhelmed, don't fight it. You can battle, but it doesn't get you anywhere. Instead, trust that such complexity can lead to beauty and synchronicity. There is simple approach to any complex problem.
Or, in other words, just ride the waves.
Thank you all and (hopefully) see you later in the year!
This is a little unexpected, I'm sure. I sat down last week, on my three-year blog-anniversary, to put together my banner and start the updating that I've been talking about for a month, but I couldn't do it. I wanted the creative juices to flow, to get excited about blogging again, but instead I hit the same stagnant block that I've been running into for months. The ideas are here, collected on a sheet of graph paper that I keep by my desk, so it isn't really the content that is lacking. Rather, I'm missing the will to do it. And so, I sit, staring at my ideas without the will to bring them to life, and that's when the guilt sets in. Someone is expecting me to blog, and even though that someone is non-specific, I feel as if I am letting them down. So I start juggling, trying to rearrange my goals to fit everything in, so I won't fail anyone. The trouble is, I'm a lousy juggler.
I've learned that I can only keep so many balls in the air at once. Sort of. I've stopped trying to throw in new projects--I just ignore those out-of-the-blueprints that pop into my head, or add them to my much-neglected list of ideas, rather than obsessing over my latest and greatest epiphany. That helped. I've come a long way, learning how to focus my interests. That was supposed to be a good thing... and it is. But maybe not for this blog.
That night, as I lay down to sleep, I was still overwhelmed by blogging guilt. The Chinook winds were blowing--erratic, chilling gusts that blew down from the Rockies and slammed into the plains. They haunted me all night with whistles and whines, shaking the house and rattling the windows. I closed my eyes and tried to shut it out, to let peaceful sleep come and silence both the winds and my guilt. But that only led me to think about classes starting in a week, about the work I've started, and the Christmas boxes sitting downstairs waiting to be packed away for another year. I wondered how I would have the time to deal with everything. Then it came to me. Let it go. It isn't worth the sleepless nights, the pressure, the guilt.
Now, don't get me wrong--this blog has been a wonderful experience for me. That's why I'm taking the time to explain all of this. It has been worth it. Totally worth it. This blog gave me a voice, and showed me how to use it. It gave me a level of confidence that would allow me to succeed and to follow my goals. I'm doing that now, and it feels great.
I gave it a week to think this over, but in the end, I decided this would be for the best. So, now, like the title says, this is goodbye. (Now I'm going to have Moby stuck in my head all week, too.) I might be back someday, if or when I find the time and passion to return. I will continue to do the occasional game review at JayIsGames--that's a different sort of blogging, more of a release than pressure. Mostly, I'm going to keep writing, hopefully for publishing in print somewhere. I'm working on a novel on local developments, as well as trying to publish a variety of other stories and articles that I've written over the years. Hopefully, you'll soon see my name in a byline somewhere!
I still plan to update ChaoticUtopia.com, perhaps more than ever, now. It won't really be a blog, per say, but it will be a way to keep track of my various projects. In the next week or two, I'll post a final piece here, along with links to places you can find me in the future.
In the meantime, thanks to everyone--to my readers, to my friends and family, to everyone here at ScienceBlogs, and the blogosphere at large: thanks for all of your support over the past few years!
Well, here it is the first Monday in 2009, and judging by my inbox, which suddenly jumped to life, it is definitely time to get back to this poor site update. I was ready to dive in, anyhow, since the holidays are finally past, and my son returns to school tomorrow. (Yay!) Besides, tomorrow is Chaotic Utopia’s birthday--my first blog post was January 6, 2006. So, as a present to my blog, I’ll be giving it that much needed facelift. (I’ll admit, I was stymied by a few design choices, but I’ve finally moved past that and know what I want to do.)
In the meantime, check out this series of photographs compiled by the Boston Globe. The entire collection of 120 pictures is incredible. Some are amazing, others shocking, but all are excellent works of photography. This one was my favorite:
In this photo by Irfan Khan (AP), workers are releasing the first of four million black balls into Ivanhoe Reservoir, in order to prevent a chemical reaction between chlorine from water treatment, natural bromide, and good old California sunshine. Thus, they are hoping it will protect the Los Angeles water supply from the carcinogenic product: bromate. It reminds me of a giant plastic pool covering, separated into individual bubbles.
I always get plenty of books for Christmas--more than I’ll ever have time to read, certainly. So, this year, when I started to tear the paper from the corner of another heavy and flat rectangle, it was hard to get excited. But underneath the paper, I caught a glimpse of a cracked cobblestone. The surface of cobblestone was scratched white, as if the pale scratches were emanating from the crack in the stone. The crack seemed to extend to another scratched cobblestone, gently curving like the beginning of a gentle spiral.
Ooh! Oooh! Oooh! Could it be? I tore the paper, revealing the cover. YES! A book by Andy Goldsworthy! I opened it, and began to flip through the pages of ephemeral artwork, each structure more impressive than the last.
"KARMEN! Stop reading and get back to your gifts. Pass it on!" I’d forgotten it was still Christmas. Reluctantly, I closed the volume and passed it around so everyone else could take a look. Would you believe it; I didn’t get to look at it again until I went home that night. Every time I turned around, I’d see several of my relatives crowded around, peering at Goldsworthy’s lovely photographs. I suppose I can’t blame them--discovering Goldsworthy’s art is an experience that begs to last.
I discovered his art a few months back, after being assigned a movie review in my water policy and science class. The assignment was very open-ended: watch a movie about a river, and write an essay discussing the importance of the water to the film. We were provided a list of possible films, but I went for the raw Google search. That search turned up the film, Andy Goldsworthy’s Rivers & Tides:
It ended up being the subject of my review, which I’ve shared below. It seems especially timely, since we’re transitioning from a focus on art and complexity to a focus on water and sustainability. If you enjoy the review, I’d highly recommend renting the video. I rented it from itunes for a few dollars, and watched it on the computer. Even though I was supposed to be doing homework, it turned out to be the best couple dollars I spent all semester. So, read the review, then go check out the movie for yourself!
Well... Santa got in the Christmas Spirit (or was that into the Christmas Spirits?) and now he needs your help to play connect the dots. Yup. It's just what you think: (flash required)
This snarky little film is my way of saying: I’m back, but I’m still busy--you know, being a human, consuming resources, yadda yadda. Since Christmas is only a week away, I’m going to use this time to post nonsense filler (hopefully some of it holiday-themed) and work on the style changes that are now long overdue. Stay tuned for more!
Mumble, mumble, stupid holidays... mumble mumble, final exams... mumble, grumble, not enough time in a day... mumble, curse, mumble...
There must be some corollary to Murphy’s law that states every time I want to do something nice for myself, I will be swamped with other things. That seems to be the theme for the entire autumn of 2008. I want to update my blog and home site, but thanks to family issues, computer problems, and class work, this fix-up keeps getting postponed.
I’d like to say that I have the solution, that I’m finally free, but the fact is, even this note is on stolen time. I have several final exams and a couple of papers to complete from now until Monday. After that, I expect a bit of the holiday rush, but that won’t be fraught with the same sense of intellectual urgency. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get some quality website work done in between rounds of shopping and baking. My head is bursting with ideas, so I’m eager to make the time to work here. Hopefully, this will be the last apology/non-update post for a long time. In the meantime, and once again, I’m sorry for the slowness.
Thanks to my pal, Sara, who recommended this manic turkey shooter for Thanksgiving Day. I know it doesn't make sense, but then again, most holidays don't anymore.
Ok, this is just bizzarre. If you’re easily freaked out, don’t read this. It might start off nice and pretty...
This story begins sometime in the mid-1990s, when I was still young enough to do stupid things with friends who had too much to drink. It involves a sort of tradition for those of us who grew up in the Front Range of Colorado, a world famous natural amphitheater, and a close encounter with the local flora.
It was late on a warm summer night. A group of us had decided, just on the spur of the moment, to go over to Red Rocks Amphitheater, and see who was playing. Now, this didn’t mean going to the ticket booth. It meant parking the car off the side of the road, and climbing over a hill to a place where you could overlook the concert below, and hear the music reverberating off of the monolithic rocks. Every teenager in the area has supposedly tried to do this at some point, although over the years it has become increasingly difficult--or so I hear. I might just be getting old.
Now, those of you who have never visited Colorado might have something of an idyllic view of our foothills. You see photos of aspen groves, forests thick with ponderosa and lodgepole pines... but that’s not really what we have in the foothills, close to the cities. Instead, it is more like a high desert scrub... lots of barren rocks, bristly grasses, stands of yucca, and most importantly (for this story at least) lots and lots of prickly pear:
(Note: I’ve used that picture before. It isn’t actually from Red Rocks, but from Table Mesa in Boulder.)
Ok... so, now, you might see where this is going. They don’t exactly provide nice cleared trails to sneak up into Red Rocks. So, we parked near some small, fenced fossil bed along Dinosaur Ridge, which runs up the right side of this map:
A student in Colorado, looking for some sort of synthesis--the big picture, encompassing all the strangeness in the universe--but willing to settle for the philosophic or poetic lens.
Ooh! Oooh! Oooh! Could it be? I tore the paper, revealing the cover. YES! A book by Andy Goldsworthy! I opened it, and began to flip through the pages of ephemeral artwork, each structure more impressive than the last.
: 
