seeing

the image above is scanned from a childcraft book i got from the thrift store. part of a larger series, this one is called "look and learn." i'm amazed a what a resource this book is. everything is put simply, keeping the audience in mind. still, the topics they address are suprisingly mature. (an airplane's "moving box of space," vacant lots, the orgin of the alphabet, letterpress p's and q's, and the golden rectangle, to name a few.) there are even some things that were new to me.

this is something i want to work on. seeing.

"our brain gives us simulated sight, a projection of approximately what might have been seen if we had taken the time to observe. we see a fraction of a shirt or a blouse, and our brain says, 'never mind, i am faster,' and projects the pattern instantaneously. we didn't have time, nor take the time to see. the danger of simulation is that we are not consciously aware that we are not seeing. the advantage is instantaneous comprehension, a valuable tool for survival. the disadvantage is that simulated vision has as its source only what has been programmed into our computer: past knowledge. it is incapable of new vision - of creativity. simulated vision is anathema to the visual artist if not recognized and kept in its proper place. besides being unaware of its creeping in, we use it out of laziness, and, the erroneous idea that seeing is inferior to any kind of mentally acquired knowledge."
-from keith a. smith's structure of the visual book

recently, i've started asking myself these same things over and over: what do i choose to see? how awake am i? (metaphorically and literally. coffee helps with the latter.) how aware am i? here's a stream about seeing things...

seeing clearly.
i've gone back to using acetate again in my art (i guess we were never on a break to begin with, but...) there is just something so enthralling about transparency. it gets messy though, as i discovered constructing my pocket fold book the other day. fingerprints taint, ink bleeds. to actually use transparency, you have to sacrifice the immaculate nature of it's surface. it's a small price to pay (and a bit of "letting go" on the ocd end) when the results yield something that hasn't been seen before. i have this crazy idea now to take an old history (preferrably us history), to copy every single page onto a sheet of acetate, and then combine all of the layers into a completely clear book. years removed from those initial exposures to history in high school, i realize now how connected everything is. how everything is a compilation and each layer builds on top of countless others before it. how cool (and insanely expensive) would it be to look through a history book like that, and literally see it all on top of each other?

seeing as much as you can.
for me right now, that means going to new neighborhoods. new environments are the quickest form of visual stimulation. and freshest form of inspiration. (always at a premium at an art school.) why not just stand on a different street corner and soak it all in? or take advantage of a friend with a car and see a place that would typically out of reach. and maybe setting the camera aside and letting the compositions happen in real life. right before your eyes.

seeing cleverly.
we talked about the fedex logo in gd on monday. classic example of good graphic design. (bernard says he would get it tattooed on his buttox, his highest sign of approval.) i remember reading about the arrow hidden in the logo awhile ago, and struggling to "see it" whenever i would see a fedex truck driving by. once you find it, it's impossible not to notice. with type like that, your eye gets so focused on the positive space that you miss all the fun going on in the negative.

seeing through.
our ability to filter that which could disturb our sense of being (the struggling economy, voter fraud, and so on...) is astounding. it's all about achieving comfort and then staying comfortable. the truth is, it's just easier to live that way. bernard has this website (albeit still "under construction") that addresses just that. the idea is called if you don't see it, it doesn't exist. lack of sight is an epidemic in cities (and the suburbs that surround them, too.) his project reminded me of one of t.p. luce's poems, guppies. (from his book, tha bloc.) here's an excerpt:

"I read a story the other day about two people lying in their own blood dying, then dead, then outlined by that white chalk. Killed over something stupid they said. Shot down when an argument over basketball players boiled over into gunfire and death. As the event hangs and the media and the talkers begin to feed on our collective social blind spot, it is amazing how often they, (we), miss what is really going on and how much they, (we), depend on that blind spot."

seeing the often overlooked obvious.
it has been the hardest thing for me to start reading the news. i know how important it is, and i realize how separated from it you can get when you are in the "all art, all the time" zone. (it's funny. i assume we are all here because we want our art to have a place in the world. yet while we're here the course load and pressure to produce demands that our focus becomes isolation from and ignorance of the world around us. and the exact issues we are hoping our art will address.) i figured getting the new york times daily email would force me to make sure i am informed. but it is still so tricky. how can you just jump into something as complex as the daily developments of our society? it takes time. i'm working on it.

i looked back at my leadershape journal and found notes i had scribbled saying "have an eye-opening experience daily." according to my cluster facilitator, we owe it to ourselves. especially if we have the gift of sight.