Contrast

In the spirit of paying attention to beautiful little things throughout the day, I snapped a picture of snowdrop flowers by the sidewalk. Somehow, they looked incredibly white and fresh, but not neat and pretty. The last few days/weeks were rainy, and the flowers were splattered with mud. I found another bunch of snowdrops nearby that were a bit cleaner, but for some reason, when I took a photo, it didn’t have the same sense of freshness.

I think it’s the actual mud that made the snowdrops look prettier by contrast – another reminder that context makes all the difference.

This reminded me of the essay called “In Praise of Shadows” by Junichiro Tanizaki. He talks there about the importance of shadows in accentuating bright elements of design in Japanese architecture, among other things. Looking a bit closer, he uses a juxtaposition of western and eastern cultures to showcase the latter – kind of a meta-contrast. It is fascinating and continuously surprising, a bit like the Japanese culture itself.

Learning to see

“The camera is an instrument that teaches people to see without a camera.”
— Dorothea Lange

I’ve been watching a video of Richard Feynman’s lecture on the laws of physics, and he described the essence of the scientific approach like this: “This is the key of modern science, this is the beginning of the true understanding of nature – this idea that to look at the thing, to record the details and to hope that in the information thus obtained may lie a clue to one or another of a possible theoretical interpretation.”

The ability to observe is of primary importance both in science and in art. Leonardo da Vinci, who was an exceptionally keen observer, is a stunning example of a genius straddling both fields. There is some evidence that he, in fact, made no distinction between the two. Feynman also drew and played drums. He said at the beginning of his lecture at Cornell that somehow physicists and mathematicians always mentioned his artistic interests, but when he played drums at a club, no-one ever said that he was also a theoretical physicist. He attributed it to higher appreciation of arts compared to science.

The good thing is that the capacity for observation is a trainable skill. One exercise for developing it is to take photos of various random objects throughout the day. The idea is that the mere act of looking for subjects to take pictures of encourages us to be more tuned to our surroundings. I’ve decided to put to to practice and snapped a picture of a tree with multiple trunks as I was walking across campus yesterday. Then, I thought that it would be even better to turn it into a sketch. Here is the result – made on an iPad in ProCreate with an Apple Pencil.

Splash dance

We have an ongoing research project in our lab, where we take closeup photos of droplets of water colliding with each other. The initial motivation was to explore the connection between fluid mechanics and visual arts. This week, we used water splashes a a special effect for a tap dance photo shoot. We didn’t pursue any science per se, but the artistic connection was even stronger, as dance is an art in itself, and photography is an artistic way of expressing it!

When I first started photographing dance performances, I thought that still images would be far inferior to video in the context of dance. After all, video direccaptures music and motion, which are both essential elements of the dance. But as I took more and more dance photos, I realized that the photos have something that the video doe not have – the ability to freeze the motion and to give the audience time to appreciate the fine details of it. If you think carefully, one of the aspects that makes a photograph interesting is offering the viewer a perspective that is not commonly available in real life. With sport photography, for example, the most interesting images show athletes up-close, at the moment of intense physical effort – something that a spectator cannot see from their seats. Likewise, during a dance performance, anyone in the audience can hear the music and see how synchronized the motions of the dancers are. But when the motion is stopped in a photograph, we have a chance to appreciate the details that are are too fleeting to notice otherwise.

This is exactly what makes high-speed photography of water splashes valuable from a scientific standpoint. It is a way to examine the details of the fluid motion that normally happen very fast.

So combining splashes and dance makes a perfect case for creating interesting photos. Typically, we see both dancers and water droplets in motion, so it is fun looking at either (or both, in this case) frozen in time.

On dedication

As I am going through the photo coverage of the dance classes that take place throughout the year in the studio where my daughter practices, I continue to be amazed by the level of dedication shown by the senior, but still very young, students. I see them at the studio after school literally day in and day out. Hopefully, the photos will help balance the impression one might get by observing only their year-end show that skills and grace, which they demonstrate on stage, are effortless. The result might be graceful, and working towards it is fun, but the effort is certainly paid upfront both by the students and by their teachers.

And I think the fact that the dancers are engaged in training every day plays a large role in sustaining their motivation. I’ve been thinking about the value of daily practice, incremental progress and the attitude of creating a body of work for a while, but it has been very satisfying today to come across a quote of someone widely regarded as a genius that perfectly resonates with this idea:

“Either once only, or every day. If you do something once it’s exciting, and if you do it every day it’s exciting. But if you do it, say, twice or almost every day, it’s not good any more.” – Andy Warhol.

Missing shots

Today, I once again confirmed for myself that being a shinpan (referee) at a kendo tournament is more exhausting than actually participating in a match. When you fight, you control your own actions, so you can anticipate at least 50% of what’s going on (the opponent controls another 50%). But when you referee, both competitors can strike at any time, so you cannot relax even for a second – or you will miss a shot. It is kind of similar to photographing kendo. Only the responsibility of missing a shot (or ippon) is higher when you are a shinpan.

I was both refereeing and taking photos at the Intercollegiate Taikai today – not literally at the same time, of course, but enough mixing of the two activities that I was often thinking about judging while shooting and about shooting while judging, missing shots in both cases as a result. It was still a great practice, both in terms of kendo and photography, not to mention a great time with friends.

Oh, and as a bonus – our club had two teams in the tournament, and they both met in the final! (No, we were not judging our own dojo’s teams, in case you were wondering…)

Treats and rewards

I often thought about treats and rewards as interchangeable terms, but lately I’ve realized that they are quite different. Rewards imply expectation of a certain performance, and this makes me a bit uneasy, particularly in the parenting context. I think that developing a dependance on external approval, especially of performance rather than effort, can be counter-productive. It removes the sense of control and agency. For adults too (I am thinking about myself here), the expectation of a reward can substitute the original motivation for doing something.

On the other hand, a treat, in my mind, is something entirely positive. It is doing a pleasant thing for someone (or for oneself) simply because we want the person to feel good. There is no expectation that a treat has to be earned or that it is due regularly. Actually, I think that regular treats are good, but they have to different in nature from one another to avoid Hedonic adaptation to their positive effect.

With my daughter, I like celebrating seemingly insignificant milestones like the first day of a school term or the first day of vacation by doing something outside of our daily routine.

For myself, a change in activity is often a nice treat in itself. I think I somehow developed a pool of go-to treats that I can rotate and that I know would be good for me in general, like reading a non-technical book while eating lunch (my current one is the biography of Leonardo da Vinci by Walter Isaacson) or working on a personal photo project for a couple of hours a week.

Things I like

One of the things I look forward to every week is waiting for my daughter while she goes to an art lesson after school. I sit at a cafe next door to the studio, and the one hour I have there feels like a bonus time to catch up on things that usually get crowded our of my day. I am glad that she is doing something that she enjoys and that, at the same time, I can work on something without the pressure to be productive.

Surprisingly, productivity takes care of itself, probably because I don’t rush to finish anything in particular and can actually think about what I am doing. I can think about the paper I’ve been reviewing and how it relates to my own research instead of rushing to finish and submit the review, as I often do in the office during “regular” work hours. Or I feel free to play with photos on my phone or computer to explore new processing techniques. Or I can read my own notes on the books that I’ve read in the past. Sometimes, I surprise myself with the ideas that I had at the time, but completely forgotten.

Body of work

Yesterday after work, I had a five-hour long photo shoot of dance classes in a local studio. I shot around 3500 images, which take approximately 150 GB of hard drive space. I like shooting dance, and I have a personal interest in the subject, because my daughter goes to that dance school. I also like the fact that this a great opportunity to practice my action-shooting skills. Having said this, I am glad that I don’t do this kind of photography every day. In fact, I believe that shorter, but more regular and varied shoots are better for developing skills and creativity.

I recently heard about the value of creating a consistent body of work. I am not sure who said it, but I like the idea that what we do every day is more valuable than what we do every once in a while. For example, my yesterday’s shoot was a big one-time effort, but shooting daily, even a little bit, even just using my phone, is probably more important. Ironically, the next day after a big shoot I am reluctant to pick up the camera at all.

I can really relate to treating all projects not as one-off opportunities, but as stepping stones for creating a consistent body of work. Of course, as many useful concepts, it is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it removes pressure of “successful” performance from each individual project (e.g. a research grant proposal or journal paper submission). On the other hand, if you are always contributing to your body of work, you cannot slack off at any time because you might think a particular project at hand is relatively unimportant. You have to be always “on”, delivering your best work.

Making something that lasts

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Back in high school, when I started going to the gym to lift weights regularly, a read a cautionary bit of advise in a magazine: motivation [for training] is easy to get, but difficult to maintain. This is true for practically everything, not just sports. But simply knowing this helps to prepare and compensate for flagging motivation.

One motivation-inducing concept that resonates for me personally is working on something that I think would last a long time. Actually, most things I do fall into this category: doing research and writing papers about it, teaching, drawing, photography. Playing with my daughter is there too.

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Tim Urban nicely described the concept of transcending time by raising children in his blog post about Elon Musk. Elon reportedly views people as computers, hardware being the physical body and brain and software being the things people learn throughout their lives. In this framework, our children are one-half of ourselves in terms of their hardware, and we have a unique opportunity to contribute to development of their software by spending time with them.

Interestingly, this mind trick of convincing myself that I am working on something potentially long-lasting doesn’t work for personal development things, sports included. Old Japanese kendo sensei like asking novices, especially foreigners, “Why did you begin practicing kendo?” I think a more difficult question would be: “Why do you continuing practicing?” For me, habits really help here. Often, I go to practice simply because I’ve been doing for a long time. And then, another truism kicks in: motivation follows action.

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Habits are also dangerous, of course. if you do something mindlessly long enough, you lose the sight of what made you start in the first place. With lifting weights, I had exactly that experience a few years ago. What helped me shake this off was the fact that I injured my back and could not do my regular exercises. At that time, we were on vacation in Venice Beach, staying at an Airbnb for the first time. The place was owned by a young lady, who had lots of books on healthy lifestyle, fitness, etc. I must be in California after all, I thought. Also, the nearby Muscle Beach was bit of a holy land for me, because of it’s association with Arnold Schwarzenegger, my childhood hero. So I saw all the people, from muscleheads hanging out in the gym to wannabe Hollywood starlets shopping for healthy foods at the local supermarket, who were so different, but for whom dedication to physical training was obviously a core trait. I didn’t find any role models there per se, but I my motivation to thoughtfully train and a sense of fun of daily exercise was definitely renewed.

Perhaps, I need watch more kendo videos on YouTube or go through my favourite samurai movies?

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Value of (boring) blogging

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I’ve been wondering, why daily blogs, vlogs and photo logs are so popular. For example, when I decided to learn about making videos, I started following Casey Neistat on YouTube. His vlog, which he used to update daily (now – once in every couple of days), is tremendously popular, and it shows how much effort it takes to publish something like that consistently. But surprisingly to myself, I also find it quite entertaining. Large part of the reason for this, I am sure, is that Casey is a great storyteller and a skilled and talented videographer. But another part, I think is the consistency of his vlog updates.

The individual episodes are often not particularly impressive, in my opinion. Mainly, because the subject matter is rather mundane. After all, with all the skill and talent you can make opening mail exciting only to a certain degree. But taking together, the many individual episodes make up something that is much more compelling than the sum of its parts. It’s a fantastic example of quantity being converted to quality.

So what is it about consistency that’s so valuable?

In a recent interview, Gretchen Rubin mentioned that she noticed that sending regular updates on her daily life events to her relatives had a tremendous positive effect on their relationship. In fact, they send each other update emails with the implicit understanding that these emails are allowed to be boring and that no response is necessary. The surprising effect is that even though the individual events described in these updates are often mundane, the overall cumulative affect of staying in charge is profound.

According to Rubin, relationships thrive on the mere act of showing up. For example, when two old friends, who were out of touch for many years, meet, they often have nothing to talk about beyond “How have you been?” – “Fine.” But if people are “caught up” on each other’s life details, no matter how insignificant, they have all these little things to chat about.

I think blogging is also a kind of relationship: a one-way communication between the author and the audience (it can be two-way, if comments are enabled, which I am currently experimenting with). To maintain this relationship, the updates need to be regular. The flip side of this is that it is sort of expected that some of them would be pretty boring. So my apologies in advance to anyone who is reading this and is considering returning.

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