In my work, seriousness was essential, otherwise the jokes fall flat.
In my work, jokes were essential, otherwise the seriousness would dissipate.
Why do I compare a joke to a poorly-made cake?
Why do I think seriousness is a gas (a form of matter, ungraspable, boundless, evanescent, chaotic and ghostlike)?
Continuing my obsession with that Picasso picture, I’ve created three small glitch-gifs.
I’m using a small processing app.
Adapted from some code found online.
I don’t see myself suddenly becoming a “glitch artiste” (ahem). But it is a fun aesthetic; even when the results are crap they can still be quite dynamic. Cheap thrills!
My end-goal is to adapt these processes to images of text, and then see where that leads.
To those ends, I started cataloging some glitch/processing-glitch sources.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I used to scribble on post-it-notes and then scan them in.
Once, I combined the images into a gif:
and even put it online.
I’ve since lost the original images, or have them buried on the hard-drive of a computer I haven’t turned on in a year.
But gif-explode.com just got them back!
Here’s the revised gif:
original, for reference:
They’re not in sync, since the speed is faster on the revised version.
(larger size at flickr.)
This was the back-page ad from … some magazine. The (c) is 1997, but it could have been between then and 2000 when I tore it off and put it on my cubicle wall. It’s been there, on every cube or office I’ve been in since. Well, minus the xray-specs which were hanging elsewhere, until BWING: some particle pings off of some neuron. Plus, filters added in Picassa (hah!) and poorly-taken photo from my crappy phone.
There’s something to be said for crappy phones. I loved my old clamshell that a job provided. It was 0.3 megapixels, and had a crappy lens. The photos could be awesome! My current phone is a “feature-phone” which means it has a touch-screen and enough functions to be annoying, but not enough to make it user-friendly. And no flash. Which totally sucks. But it is always in my pocket, so there’s that.
(The only Macintosh I ever owned was a sad-faced classic Mac [that would only boot to the sad-face]).
Over lunch today, I twiddled with the image some more in Picassa (because: (1) why not (2) I no longer have Photoshop installed and (3) the GIMP is just too awkward and long-loading). And THEN I started working with Processing:
The core of the pixellization routine was originally from Jeffery Thompson but he is in no way to blame for what came later. Color averaging code was based on an answer at StackOverflow. Animation courtesy of mothereffinganimatedgif.com.
Future work might include generating gifs from inside of Processing [update: DONE], and tiling from the CENTER of the image, instead of the upper-left. This would allow for cropping the image to fit a specific canvas size.
Code is on GitHub.
See, even when I do post something other than an animated GIF to this blog, it’s still an animated GIF.
I haven’t done any sketches in a while, but I have continued to think about them, and how to create|invoke|provoke interaction with the reader/viewer.
A word I’ve used in the past is “frustrating”, as in “frustrating the reader,” but I always felt uncomfortable with that.
I’ve more wanted to entice the reader to continue.
Not the right word.
The frustration I was working with was by obscuring the text, and only revealing parts of it when the reader interacted.
Frustrated, as in “the reader can’t see the (whole) text without (some, minimal) effort.”
There’s another word, just can’t get back to it now.
Thoughts again today looking at the work of Darius Kazemi.
Check out his “game” At Dawn. NOTE: when you reach the center of the screen, keep walking to the right.
I’ve also been trying to figure out how to reward the reader — as in, what’s the payoff for reading? Solving a puzzle? Defeating the final boss? Following the narrative flow through to it’s conclusion?
In the absence of the last two, and difficult puzzles, I’m not sure what that payoff might be.
Perhaps I’m overthinking this.
I enjoyed reading and interacting with these texts.
Most people aren’t going to get the same reward from viewing them.
But I do, and some others might.
That should be enough.
UPDATE 2013.09.23: I wrote the above about a month ago, and haven’t edited it much, much less come up with the words I thought I wanted. So these words will have to do (like Xanadu).
Interrupting all programmes
This is radio pipe from pirate satellite
Orbiting your living room, cashing in the bill of rights
Cuban army surplus or refusing all third lights
This is radio pipe on pirate satellite
This sound does not subscribe to the international plan
In the psycho shadow of the white right hand
Then that see ghettology as an urban Vietnam
Giving deadly exhibitions of murder by napalm
This is radio pipe tearing up the seven veils
This is radio pipe please save us, not the whales
This is radio pipe underneath a mushroom cloud
This is radio pipe, you don’t need that funeral shroud (Why play?)
Forces have been looting, my humanity
Curfews have been curbing the end of liberty
Hands of law have sorted through my identity
But now this sound is brave and wants to be free, anyway to be free
This is radio pipe on pirate satellite
This is not free Europe
Nor an armed force network
This is radio pipe using audio ammunition
This is radio pipe can we get that world to listen
This is radio pipe using aural ammunition
This is radio pipe can we get that world to listen?
This is radio pipe on pirate satellite
(This is radio pipe) Orbiting your living room cashing in the bill of rights
This is radio pipe on pirate satellite
This is radio pipe everybody hold on tight
(This is radio pipe) A-riggy diggy dig dang, dang
(This is radio pipe) Go back to urban ‘Nam
Originally sprung on the world on Google+
A few months ago — late March, apparently, BoingBoing had a post about using IFTTT to automate collecting wonderful things. I stuck it in my open-tabs, and there it resided for some time.
Finally, earlier in July I implemented the ideas in it.
Basically, use the automation site If This Then That to take new photos (animated-gifs, in this case) from a public DropBox folder, and make a new WordPress post out of them.
Not life-saving, and not world-changing. However, like a lot of other people, I am fond of animated gifs, in ways that I don’t fully understand. But in order to explore that fondness, I’d like to post some of the gifs for later perusal. But… I don’t care enough to save the gif, open the WordPress dashboard, create a new post, add media, yadda yadda yadda.
But with this recipe, I can just save a gif to a folder, and IFTTT does all that annoying grunt-work for me.
There are some drawbacks: gifs remain in dropbox, with an image-link to them, not uploaded as media to the blog. So they can’t be displayed with lightbox, f’r instance.
The post has an odd sequence of divs added:
<div> <img src='https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/iguwidtgvjqoocm/usa.gif' style='max-width:600px;' /> <br/><div></div></div>
At least one of the extra divs seems to be required. I no clear idea why. And don’t really care enough to dig deeply into it. But it’s a bit of a nuisance when staring at one of the posts. Enough to note it, but not enough to fix it now.
So, this is why you may now see more animated gifs on this blog than posts with words in them. Any individual animated picture may be worth less or more than one thousand words of another blog post, but they are a lot easier to post.
Also of interest: a list of IFTTT recipes.
Pierre Gordeeff’s The Built From Scratch Apparatus is the general title for a series of projects by Pierre Gordeeff initiated in 2006. Composed of parts salvaged from the trash, yard sales and equipment purchased from bankrupt hospitals, schools and factories, Gordeeff’s work has slowly evolved into an ornate sculpture and light show along with amplified moving parts fed into a mixer.
The Rhizome article also has some audio & video.
Okay, so there was some early digital paintbox stuff going on:
Video review of Jones’ Instant Design: A Manual of Graphic Techniques
The GoogleBooks entry for Instant Design has no pages available, but their poorly-OCR’d text is a joy to behold:
Best known through his own magazine, i-D, but also internationally recognizedor his work with Italian and German Vogue, Donna, Mexx and Fiorucci, Terryones has been one of the most influential graphic designers of the 1980s.is style, rooted in punk, exemplifies much that is characteristic ofontemporary British design. This book, designed by Jones, explores andxplains “instant design”, the use of readily available techniques such ashotocopying, typewriter faces, Polaroids, handwriting, type and pictureistortion, computers and block graphics. Jones’ current work in televisionnotably Reportage and 01 for London) and video is also covered. Hundreds ofxamples show the extraordinary range and creativity of his output. Captionsnd a multi-layered introduction provide the context for some of the decade’sost copied graphics.
I first ran into this book in 1993 in the library of the School of Applied Arts in Budapest, Hungary. When I returned to the US I got my own copy of it.
Don’t get me wrong — I also had a David Carson book at one point, and do/did appreciate his/that style. I like the use of type-for-types-sake, it ventures into blurring the boundary between text and image a bit more (something dear to my heart), and highlights that text is image, as well. Both of them are beating the image|text dichotomy, bashing it with sledgehammers (or photocopiers and fontshop, I guess) and saying a hearty “f**k you” to linearity and coherence.
I was very much interested in type and graphic design for a time. Ultimately, I realized (very slowly) that I wasn’t particularly talented in that direction. I’m left with a minor understanding of the art, an appreciation for the difficultly, some strongly-held opinions (not much appreciated by my wife, an actual trained, experienced and skilled graphic designer), and the poorly-designed layout of this blog which is more trouble that it is worth to update.
And the nagging suspicion that I should still be blending the visual layouts of my language-based artwork a bit more….
‘F’ is Foucault of ‘Knowledge is Power’.
So remember that phrase when told to ‘Go Shower’
’Cos if you provide some good enough reasons
You can stay dirty for up to three seasons.
village voice > art > A manic-depressive panic attack in the face of profound information overload
Whether you call it the New Cacophony or the Old Cacophony, Agglomerationism, Disorientationism, the Anti Dia, or just a raging bile duct, the practice of mounting sprawling, often infinitely organized, jam-packed carnivalesque installations is making more and more galleries and museums feel like department stores, junkyards, and disaster films. It is an architecture of no architecture, a gesamtkunstwerk or “total artwork,” whose roots are in opera, Dada, the Merzbau, and the madhouse. Whatever the subject — be it bodily fluids, pop culture, or politics — terms that describe this sculptural strategy include grandiose and testosterone-driven.
This is a follow-up to an addendum (labelled a “follow-up”) in a previous post on botlegging artist Eric Doeringer..
It seems that this weekend Mike Weiss sicced New York’s Finest onto him, and the art-blogosphere has been in a (justifiable) tizzy since. Doeringer has the story himself.
Tip o’ the hat that all gentlemen should be wearing in public but aren’t anymore becuase our societal dress codes have slipped into the toilet to Sean Bonner.
Futurism was an international art movement founded in Italy in 1909. It was (and is) a refreshing contrast to the weepy sentimentalism of Romanticism. The Futurists loved speed, noise, machines, pollution, and cities; they embraced the exciting new world that was then upon them rather than hypocritically enjoying the modern world’s comforts while loudly denouncing the forces that made them possible. Fearing and attacking technology has become almost second nature to many people today; the Futurist manifestos show us an alternative philosophy.
Too bad they were all Fascists.
On the difficulties of displaying poetry on the web, or in eReaders.
Charles Platt was suspicious of Nickled and Dimed, so he decided to work at WalMart.