Come one, come all, and revel as I navigate the ups and downs of the mundanities of my life. Thus far, my stomach-churning has been kept to a minimum, but I can't speak for my readers. You'll be riveted as you're kept on the edge of your seat, wondering, "Will the next post be the one that makes me lose my lunch??" Excitement, she wrote!

Thursday, July 22, 2010

The lessons I've learned...

"Nature uses only the longest threads to weave her patterns,
so each small piece of her fabric reveals the organization of the entire tapestry." ~ Richard Feynman

Since I have learned how to look, I have consistently and without fail found the most mind-boggling patterns that recur in the universe. Once I learned how to look, I couldn't not see them. Just as the human brain has the biological tendency to find a face where there is none - in an electrical outlet, for instance, or a car - I feel like I am now wired to find the manifestation of these universal rules in the way that a trained "seer" cannot avoid seeing a three-dimensional shape mysteriously emerge from a purely two-dimensional Magic Eye poster. Even this phenomenon itself is not a purely anecdotal one. It is subject to the same universal rules but arises in many different forms. Escher eludes to this in "La Mezquita" (left). Look at a series of arches from one perspective, and it is a random lot of pillars and horseshoe curves...but move a few steps to the left or the right - switch your point of view - and as Douglas Hofstadter eloquently writes, "beautiful regularity emerges. You've reordered the same information by changing your way of looking at it." This phenomenon also becomes familiar to anyone who has sorted data in an Excel spreadsheet. Look at a 10,000 KB document of pure raw data, and it is nothing but a messy soup of stuff. But once you learn how to filter, order, and graph, there is again that beautiful regularity, and meaning emerges.

"Since I have learned how to look..." These seven words hold an experience that is indescribably dear to me - possibly one of the things I treasure most about being alive. Just as all learning is, the experience is an ongoing one, and I can only imagine how exponentially more meaningful those seven words will be to me, in ten, twenty, or (if I'm lucky) fifty years from now, perhaps when I am on my death bed. As with all human beings, since being born, it has taken me roughly 21 years to acquire the most basic information necessary to serve as the foundation for this kind of search for meaning. As the Empiricists will tell you, understanding does not occur in a vacuum, and I believe that the richer one's library of experiences, both academic and worldly, conceptual and concrete, the more one is able to get a glimpse of the mammoth yet delicate processes that drive the universe and everything that has ever sprang forth from it, including oneself.

In this developmental vein, there are countless learners whom I have looked to to teach me, but the two figures who have touched me the most - just masters of finding these elegant, recurring patterns - are the aforementioned academic Douglas Hofstaedter, and the comparative mythologist Joseph Campbell. I will not go into detail about their life work and the conclusions they have drawn, as I simply cannot do them justice at this humble point in my life, much less in this humble blog, but Hofstadter has found nature's infinitely long threads weaving through what seem to be the most disparate, unconnected topics - number theory, consciousness, Zen, modern art, genetics, artificial intelligence, and the list goes on. For Campbell, a thread of a different material ties together possibly every human culture that has ever existed, and he finds that the similarities that exist between the mythologies of the aborigines, Christians, Jains, Navajo... again - the list goes on, are too significant to chalk up to randomness. Like Hofstadter, there are fundamental patterns to the universe that Campbell spent his life understanding.

I need to pause this post at this point, because it has already developed a life of its own that will take over my day if I do not put my foot down, temporarily. If anyone is still reading up to this point, I must first thank you for staying with me for so long, and secondly ask for your extreme patience as I continue to develop my thoughts. What I have written here is a first attempt at a synthesis of my inchoate reflections over the last five years or so (since I met Chris, basically - I will let you connect the dots there). I apologize if things are muddy, and in this initial stab many ideas are probably redundant. (Also - apologies to both academics named above for such a coarse-grained representation of their genius.) But I have more to say, and as always, more to learn, so we'll see next time, how I pick up where I left off.

I'll end this post today with one last little recurring pattern for you. In the opening of this post, I quoted Hofstadter, so it is only fair to end on a thought from Campbell. In looking at the tapestry of human experience, and how to reconcile the extremes of human tragedy with the ability to laugh, here is the mythologist's take on learning how to look, and his conclusion:

"The happy ending of the fairy tale, the myth, and the divine comedy of the soul, is to be read, not as a contradiction, but as a transcendence of the universal tragedy of man. The objective world remains what it was, but, because of a shift of emphasis within the subject, is beheld as though transformed. Where formerly life and death contended, now enduring being is made manifest - as indifferent to the accidents of time as water boiling in a pot is to the destiny of a bubble, or as the cosmos to the appearance and disappearance of a galaxy of stars. Tragedy is the shattering of the forms and of our attachment to the forms; comedy, the wild and careless, inexhaustible joy of life invincible."

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Amy Getting Married?

Although it causes me physical pain to do this, I'm going to refrain from giving more minute-by-minute updates on my plants and instead devote a post to something almost as important - the planting of my wedding. I mean planning.

A few months ago, in the initial stage, Chris and I made a trip to Baltimore to scope out a few wedding venues. The locales that ended up leading the pack were the Baltimore Aquarium (pros: holds special memories for me and Chris, great evening view of the harbor, unique wedding venue, guests would have an hour to tour the aquarium), and Chase Court, a 200+ year-old former church that is now privately owned (pros: in the absolutely fabulous mid-town neighborhood of Mount Vernon, blocks away from Peabody Conservatory, has a garden so the ceremony could be outdoors, and has an easygoing but romantic atmosphere that I had previously envisioned.) We ended up going with Chase Court and decided that the Aquarium could always serve as an outing for guests on the day after, and I moved on to researching caterers and ceremony officiants.

Having good food at our wedding is one of the more important
"must-have" factors for me and Chris, and given that caterers are typically charged with rentals from tables to linens as well, we wanted to make sure to devote real attention to finding a good catering outfit.That encompassed making a mini-trip down to Baltimore, which we are almost never hesitant to do.

We stayed smack in Mount Vernon with my good friend from college, Ryan Carroll. (He literally lives two blocks away from Chase Court, so he would have the option of log-rolling up the street to attend our wedding, if that is his want.)
I love Ryan's place because not only has his landlord decorated the curving stairs and walkways of the apartment halls with bowls of candy, but Ryan owns the cutest damn little girl cat I've ever met, a bug-eyed, three-legged little hobbler named Mariah (whose tail is about half the length of Grundton's). Not only was it great to have the chance to catch up with a good friend, but it was such an added to bonus to have a kitty to wake up to, as Chris and I are quite used to. I root for Team Ryan and Mariah.

We had three appointments on Friday that took us from Hunt Valley, about 15 miles north of Baltimore, right back to Mount Vernon. The catering meetings gave us quite a bit to talk about, and for the first time Chris became really invested in the planning of the wedding. After hearing a chef draw up a completely customized menu for us, and seeing fabric options and styles of tables and chairs, there were enough details that Chris finally had something concrete to latch on to, and most of the decisions we were pondering were ones with some depth, not just a back-and-forth of invitation wordings and polka dots versus filigree. In the afternoon, between two of our meetings, we ate a late lunch at Donna's by the Washington Monument and got to discussing seating arrangements, and figuring out how to best allow the different groups of guests from our lives (family, friends from the office, people we met at Hopkins, people we knew since before we met each other, friends we made in Philly, etc.) get to know each other. It was a hearty conversation about which guests would have what interests in common, and which were the personalities that would be the "glue" between strangers. For anyone who has planned this sort of thing, it's the type of question that would come up on the "Analytical Reasoning" section of the LSAT. (For the record: real-life - interesting; on a test - not interesting.)

So thus far, we have our venue and are nearing confirming a caterer. I've tried on a few dresses at Bijou Bridal on a whim with Jen (Sherman, in Philly for the summer to work at Institute!), and was delighted to find that not only did my mental "
ideal" gown look great on me - strapless sweetheart neckline with a whole crapload of ruffles - but there were a whole lot of them to choose from and after an initial visit I already found two that I would be happy to wear. Both Chris and I also just "booked" our bridesmaids and groomsmen, which has been the most exciting part for me (because it's the most personal!). Once I find an officiant, I will consider the "Big Three" of wedding components to be complete (location, food, ceremony). After that, all the planning will be in the details and I get to wrack my brain over polka dots versus filigree. Stay tuned! :)

(Pictured above right: Chris and his groomsman, Mike!)

Chase Court photograph courtesy of Jason Putsche Photography.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

All in the (Plant) Family


I know. I am a big dork. I don't care. The threat of social ostracism isn't going to make me not love my plants. Or not take a family photo of them. Or not spend the bulk of my evening learning how to use the "callouts" feature in Word to add captions.



Monday, July 05, 2010

Happy 234th Birthday, AMURRICA!

Today is day 4 of my 4-day weekend! I am having a beer at 1:30 (Ballast Point, Big Eye!) while simultaneously recovering from a late July 4th night and gearing up for my intense 3-day workweek. How freakin' great is the summer?

Random plant update from 2 posts back:
In the name of humanity, I've induced physician-assisted suicide on my pansies from March and stopped watering them because they were looking pretty worse for wear (from the summer heat). On the plus side, check out how much the basil have grown since June 14!










So...oh, yeah, Independence Day. The patriot in me decided to celebrate by not staying at home and watching King of the Hill all day (although if there is anything more Amurrican than Hank Hill, I don't want to know about it). Chris and I spent the evening in the Art Museum area, where we were literally right under the fireworks and got to observe the migration of the Philadelphian people, coming out en masse to commemorate the most historical of American holidays, in arguably the most historical of American cities. As familiar as I am now, through attendance at countless Phillies games, with the feeling of being a component entity of a dynamic superorganism, it was still a somewhat foreign sensation to simultaneously observe and participate in a community activity of tens (if not hundreds) of thousands of my genetic and cultural peers. At the corner of Pennsylvania and Fairmount we all stood completely rapt as we watched, necks craned, the explosive ascent of fireball after fireball shattering into millions of golden specks and arching comet tails, trailing willowy fingers of smoke that showered onto the tops of our heads and into the streets. Interestingly, it was not altogether different from feeling the smallness of oneself when staring into the abyss of the night sky, alone. The same liberating feeling of being but a speck on the map comes also, somehow, when sharing a brief 10 minutes with a sea of strangers... After the grand finale of fireworks, almost like magic, all the block parties and patio furniture folded themselves back up, tucked back into alleys and hallways, and we all retreated to the nooks and crannies we came from.

I'll end this July 4 post with just the best, best vibes to my dear friend Jeff King, who is serving abroad. Once you've been through employment at the Rockville Library together, you are bonded for life;) We are thinking of you back here in the states, so keep yourself safe until we see you again!