Michael Hawley spoke to us on Tuesday. I really enjoy hearing very smart, articulate people speak, but I'm turned off by arrogance. So his speech was a push.

It did inspire me, though. Mike talked a lot about how important it is to make that human connection. He gave us a lot of anecdotes where chance encounters led to (lucrative) friendships that lasted throughout his life.

I realized I need to work hard on meeting people, too. Mike mentioned that he has seen a lot of brilliant engineers at MIT that could have really gone places if they had just been a little bit less shy, more willing to meet people. That struck me because I realize that in the past couple of years I have gotten really shy and kind of reserved (at least until I know people). I have kind of ignored doing anything about my anti-social tendnencies because I've always assumed that if I do anything that's awesome enough people will find *me* and I won't need to talk myself up and it won't be important to know important people.

But even so, it would certainly improve my chances of getting the kind of success I'd like to if I did meet more people and if I was more open to the sorts of collaborations that are possible (and highly encouraged at ITP).

What Mike said reminded me of Heather Greer said to us at the second Applications class. She said she thinks we are put here to meet people.

I think it's certainly true that, for all the amazing wizardry that is possible with technology these days, good ol' humans are still more interesting to other humans than any machine is. This point was driven home when one of the groups responding to Clay Shirky's speech about tagging created a web application that allowed us ITP first-years to tag each other. The site was mobbed, with over 3 thousand tags put up in less than 3 days.

It dawned on me during their presentation that their project wasn't about tagging. It was about the relationships between people and about finding out what other people think of you. And it was one of the most popular things to come out of ITP this semester. And it wasn't about the technology at all.

He spoke about classification systems, starting with their pre-digital history, and spoke about how we have applied old, analog classifications to the web (usually with detrimental results). This is something I obliquely covered in my mid-term paper for ICM. It's something I've thought a lot about. The folder hierarchy that we use to organize our files on a computer bears almost no resemeblance to the physical reality of the way the computer writes to the hard drive, and in a lot of ways is a useful mental model--or, it was a useful mental model when we weren't technologically able to store and retrieve files the way the brain does--by associating them with other things and by searching. But now that we have searching programs for our computers (like google desktop), this is no longer necessary. In just a couple years the old problem of losing your file by not paying attention to "where" you saved it should be history. You saved it on your computer, dummy. You shouldn't need to know more than that to be able to get to it again. The problem of folders/hierarchies is even more ridiculous with Applications, of which there are relatively few. There's 0 reason that you should ever have to navigate to an "Applications" folder to open a specific application. All you should have to do is say, "hey, open Firefox." Using quicksilver allows you to do this on the Mac.

Clay talked about a lot more than just classification. He talked about how the Dewey Decimal System, which is an ontological*, hierarchical categorization that is determined by humans. The DD system has evolved over the years as the world has changed. For instance, the Soviet Union section is now the "Former Soviet Union" section. This change was made basically because the libraries didn't want to add categories and incur all the costs involved in reshelving.

There's one crisis in particular that analog, hierarchical categorization systems face: What if something falls in two categories? Clay used the example of a book about Art and Creativity. Is it about Art, or about Creativity? Where does it go? How do we label it?

In my mid-term paper for ICM I also talked a little about pluralism, the idea that something can be part of two (or more) things equally, and we don't necessarily have to decide which one of those it is to be able to deal with it. I hadn't really thought of it as a specifically digital idea, but it really is. Tags allow us to get around the categoricization of websites. A website can be tagged both art *and* creativity. Problem solved! I believe the reason Yahoo! bought Flickr earlier this year was not for the photos and community, but for the tagging, to use for their search results.

Clay mentioned a number of problems with tagging, one of which is the thesaurus problem, where similar spellings or slightly different names (nyc, new_york, newyork, etc.) really mean the same thing but will be considered different by Flickr.

One thing that I was thinking about, especially concerning flickr, is the usefulness of metadata for tags (i.e., tags for tags). What if people were allowed to "rank" their tags, by being able to mark some tags as primary importance and others as secondary. Maybe you could put a star or two next to a tag that you thought was more important than the others in describing your picture. And I think you could use a metatag:tag format as well. For instance, a picture could be labeled "location:nyc building city urban" etc. This has the potential of just compounding the problems of tags (it exponentially increases the tagspace), and it also could potentially inherit the ontological-categorization problems. But part of the problem of the categorization systems like the Dewey Decimal system is that they try to label books using labels that aren't very good for books (and they only use one label). If your metatags were more like "location" "date" "person" etc., there might be some use to them. I'm not sure if it would be good to allow users to make up their own metatags on the fly or to define a narrow set of metatags that could be used. The consistency of the data increases when the metatagspace is narrowly defined, but you run the risk of missing important things.

And, if you think about it, all the tags on flickr right now have metadata applied to them implicitly. As flickr interprets the tags, they all mean what the picture is "about."

* generally, it's a good bet that I'll enjoy a talk if the speaker uses a word like "ontological."

The pictures are pretty amazing, but I'm not sure if I would say that they are artistically inspiring. I went with Abby, an old friend from high school who is living in New York, and Allison, a friend of a friend of mine from Pomona, to Mr. Ross's exhibit opening in Chelsea last Saturday. His photographs (about 12 feet wide by 6 feet high), at first glance, appear to be simply highly detailed landscape photos. But when you're standing far away I don't think you have the visual acuity to really see how crisp they are. It's when you lean in inches away and you realize that the level of detail in the image overall is still just as crisp on the centimeter scale that you see what's so amazing about them.

I was more inspired by Mr. Ross's demeanor when he spoke to us than any of the content of his lecture. He mentioned several times that he knew very little about technology, and it did emerge as he was explaining how certain parts of his projects worked that he did in fact not know much about technology. In spite of this, he had created some amazing, technologically advanced work. I was curious how he had done so, and tried to pay attention for that when he was speaking.

What I took away was that he had a really good attitude toward what he was doing. He knew what he was interested in, and he had the self-confidence to blindly follow it even if there were lots of facets to it that he didn't know yet. Clifford understood the importance of collaboration, too. He seemed to be full of questions and very willing to listen to someone else's opinion.

Link to Clifford Ross's website.

This speaker left me a little bit cold. I was hoping to get a good meta-view of the path of interactive media, but he mostly just gave us overviews of his own projects.

One thing that struck me was the timeline for his projects. Also the budgets. He's overseeing multimillion-dollar projects for PBS, and the projects have timelines of 6-12 months, it seems. When Mr. Wong said this, part of me wanted to scream out, "but it will be irrelevant then!" Mr. Wong's work provides good contrast for Ze Frank's philosophy. Ze's take is basically, create today, get it out there so people can see it because they have infinitesimally small attention spans and won't be here tomorrow if they don't like what they see today.

I realize Ze and Wong are targeting different audiences (and Ze has no advertising budget), but it seems to me that Ze's approach is more relevant to today's audiences. I wonder how often we are going to see large, "produced" web sites in the future. My guess is that they are going to appear more rarely as time goes on. At the very least, I doubt underwriters will settle for multiple-months timelines on projects they finance.

I think the most interesting thing about what Danny said was when he spoke about the process of becoming an artist. "I started saying the 'A' word," he said. "I started saying that what I was doing was art." I think the question of whether what we do at ITP is art is an interesting one. There was a very active thread on the student listserv about whether we consider ourselves artists or not. Around half, maybe a little more, of the class consider themselves artists. I don't consider myself to be an artist, but I think that keeping an appreciation for, and a curiosity about, art, is important to the sorts of things that I want to do. I think having that sentiment also helps to create really interesting, exciting projects (as opposed to more utilitarian but uninspiring projects).

The subject matter of his art—or rather, its consistency—was also surprising. The man has made mirrors of one sort or another, for decades now, it seems. I see a lot of variation in his different projects, but it was amazing to me that he could focus on one small niche for so long. I have trouble sticking with a project day to day. To imagine doing the same type of project for the next 20 years terrifies me, frankly. On the other hand, maybe that's just because I'm still looking for my niche.

One highlight of the lecture was what happened behind the scenes, so to speak. Dan Phiffer and I used SubEthaEdit, a social text-editor, together to take some collaborative notes on (and chat a bit about) what Lili was saying. He and I were the only people using the software, and we were sitting one seat apart, so the experience felt a little redundant, but I'm excited about the potential if we were to get a group of 5 or 6 (or more) collaborators together. For one, I would end up with a much better outline of the speech than I could do myself, and I think having a running commentary/outline would help me to concentrate better on what is being said.

But back to Lili Chang. She's a Tokyo native, raised in Nebraska, and was originally trained as an architect. She worked at Apple for a little while during the horrible years when John Sculley was in command. She's been at Microsoft for 10 years, and before heading up Vista, she was working in some smaller department that I can't remember.

Some of the highlights of Vista/Longhorn:
- Huge emphasis on "search."
- Visual cues more important to enhance OS experience
- Less hierarchical approach to file organization
- At the same time, Windows is trying to keep straddling the line by changing the OS in ways that allow their corporate clients to use the upgraded software with no new training.

Lili's speech was very buzzword-heavy and it grated on me that there seemed to be little actual substance. She only superficially touched on many of the subjects. For instance, she seemed unwilling or unable to discuss why "search" was so good; it was simply assumed that it would enhance the user's experience. She would only say that, "the search people are working really hard and it's going to be great." There could be some sort of non-disclosure stuff holding her back (we weren't allowed to take pictures or record video or audio), but it didn't really seem like it. She was forthcoming with other details, like their testing methods, which I also take some issue with.

According to Chang, Microsoft has beta-tested Longhorn with a couple hundred families across the U.S. We were shown how they use a special application which places a smiley and a frowney face in the toolbar that the beta tester can use to give positive or negative feedback. We were treated to a number of the candid comments users gave, which were almost entirely focused on the minutiae of the interface: Someone didn't like how a word got truncated if a column was too small, someone else liked the way the new trash icon looked, etc.

Chang was really concerned with these types of details. She told us that these little details were the most important part of the experience for the users. I disagree. I think that the visual flourishes of an OS are important, but much less so than the larger issues of continuity of user interface, intuitive-ness of the design, making sure the underlying processes run correctly, etc.

I'm also not sure that beta testing for design purposes is the best method, at least not by testing on arbitrary computer users. Beta testing is good for catching bugs, finding out how people use the system (they usually use it in ways never envisioned by the designers), and so on. But if you ask people of average design/user interface experience, you are likely to get average (i.e., mediocre) responses. Like, "I like the trash can icon." Well, it's good if the icon is appealing, but if you ask a user interface designer, you might get a reason that the trash icon works as it does.

Also, the beta testing is only going on in the U.S., according to Chang. Earlier in her talk she had mentioned the differences in how different cultures like to use their computers. But, since Longhorn hasn't been localized yet, they are only testing in the U.S. I don't think localiztion would be likely to include much more than translating the text, so it looks like Microsoft will end up with a U.S.-honed version of Windows that is going to be deployed to the world.

In retrospect, the thing that bothered me most about what Lili had to say was her almost flip attitude toward the whole thing. I was expecting a more nuanced, thoughtful, (intellectual?) approach to designing the look and feel of an OS. I think this is the crux: Chang seemed more concerned with making it look right than in actually making it right. That may be too subtle a point to pick on.

This is not to say that the focus of her talk was all on the look and design. There was a fair amount said about the technologies and ideas in place, but as I said earlier I found the discussion of these ideas mostly superficial; they didn't seem to really be part of the OS because of a considered look at the needs of the system, but more as though they were necessary almost by Microsoft fiat. Search is just inherently good, it just is, is kind of the impression that I had.

Despite these points of contention, I enjoyed hearing her speak. The design of an OS is a fascinating issue, and what she said got my gears turning. I'd really love to hear the other side of the story, maybe from a current Linux or an Apple architect.

Carvin explained about the pernicious digital divide, and how it's widening. Currently less than 30% of the poorest quintile of the US is online, compared with over 80% of the richest quintile. As the government is moving more services online, they also tend to close down physical spaces devoted to servicing the same problems, and more and more the internet is the only channel for distributing important information (as opposed to paper, TV, etc.).

Hearing Andy speak reminded me a little bit about the time I spent working for the Organizer's Collaborative, a non-profit dedicated to creating software to help grassroots organizers maintain their mailing database, among other things. I applied/interviewed for the internship from afar, so the first time I met the people involved and saw the office was on my first day of work. I remember being dismayed and a little surprised when I found that the office was half of another group's office and there were only two people involved day-to-day: a director and his assistant. And now, me.

But as I worked there I saw that you don't need a cadre of people to make a difference, and hearing Andy speak about having an office in Boston with "just 8 interns and [himself]", I saw the similarities, and I felt like I understood where Andy was coming from. At least geographically.

One thread I've noticed, at least through the past two speakers, is that I draw a lot of inspiration from people who I feel are intimately connected with technology but not intimately concerned about it for its own sake. Both Andy and Ze Frank are people who use technology as a tool to tackle larger problems/ideas. And this in turn reminds me of the words that my physical computer instructor, Tom Igoe, gave us as advice when doing our "device, instrument, tool" project. He said that the tool should recede so that the focus is on the expression, not the tool used to express.

I feel like Andy and Ze both do this. They are using technology to service their goals. I think this is kind of a goal of mine, to use technology but for a purpose other than just the technology.

Long story short, this is his history: In 2001 or 2000 he made a little dance video thing online that he sent to his friends to inform them of a birthday party. The thing blew up, and a few days later he was getting millions of hits on his webpage. He quit his job and went into the creativity business full-time. He's now an adjunct teacher at ITP and at Parson's. His class at ITP is called, "The Creative Act."

In the second part of the lecture he got serious and went very hard-core new-media on us. He was pretty jumbled in what he was saying—he kept telling us he was trying to fit in an hour into 20 minutes—but it was clear that he has a lot of very intelligent ideas about the nature of creativity, the different facets of design and innovation in the digital world, and the new face of society ("authorship society" he calls it).

At one point he told us that we should try to figure out what our goal(s) is(are) and stop preparing for them and start doing them. This is good advice, and it's something I've struggled with for awhile. I really started to notice in myself in the past couple years that I, under the guise of "preparation," have stalled (to the point of dismissal) a lot of my best ideas. I used to think I should a) learn java and b) do something neat with it. So I would buy a book on java and spend a long time pouring over boring code and lose interest, and never do anything neater than following through a bunch of examples.

Now I'm thinking a better model for creating is to be idea-centered: start with the idea, don't back up to the reference book, and just wing it and learn what you need to know as you go. It's harder said than done, of course, but I'm really going to try to make an effort to do that. I feel like a large part of what ITP is all about for me is learning both the techniques (flash, java, physical computing, etc.) and especially the follow-through. My mind has been bubbling over with ideas lately, and if I try to wait until I know exactly how to do them before I start, I'll never get them done.

As for a goal, I'll put a few down here:
-Create a web startup.
-Be a person like Ze Frank, someone who is known for his ideas, and has the opportunity to pick and choose projects to do and people to work with, and is invited places to give lectures and help further ideas.

I guess that starts here.

He likens the process used in an RPG to solve a level (cross river; to cross river, get a boat; to get a boat, visit the villagers; etc.) to the scientific process of experimentation, hypothesis-generation, and renewed experimentation.

He also showed us a graph that displayed all the plotlines of a television show from the 70s (Starsky and Hutch) and compared it to a graph of all of the plots from a Sopranos show. In addition, he explained how the plots in a typical Sopranos show reference events that happened in previous shows, even in previous seasons.

Johnson also showed a graph with the inter-relationships between characters on a Dallas episode and a Seinfeld episode. The number of characters you are expected to remember (and their relationships) is two or three times that of Dallas.

Vito's been in New York, making art of one kind or another since the late 60s. He started out as an experimental poet, but eventually he grew to resent writing because of its limitations: It seemed to be cheating to use words signified something external, like tree. So he only used words that would refer to the processes of reading and writing, and he would try to use puns to cancel words out, to erase their meaning.

You can listen to some of his poetry online.

He moved to the street in an attempt to feel his way around the city through art. The question was, "How do I connect myself to the world around me?" (This seems to be one of the driving questions that propelled his work for over 30 years.)

In the 70s he started doing film work, and he was still interested in how the body connected with others and reacted to external events. One of his pieces was a video of him, blindfolded, trying to catch rubber balls thrown at him. In another he attempted to stuff as much of his hand into his mouth as he could; when he started to gag he would take it out and start over. In another he bit as much of his naked body as he could reach. In a piece titled "Conversions" he used a candle to burn the hair off his chest and then tried to stretch it out to make it like a woman's breast.

He soon decided that these films weren't really connecting him to anyone else. They were too private. He became interested in public space and private space -- the notion of how public space was occupied by private bodies with private thoughts, etc. He wanted to know what kept people private in public spaces. Why weren't the bodies giving in to primal urges? Vito has said, "Public space is the last gasp of the civilized world."

It was around this time that he started thinking of art as a kind of exchange. He started to get bothered that his installation type pieces required people coming to him. He didn't want people to have to struggle to get to him, and if they did so maybe he was only advancing the idea that an artist (and art) is on a pedestal, difficult for the common people to "get" (to).

So he asked himself, what if he becomes part of the space?

In one seminal (lit. pun) piece in 1972, called "Seedbed", Vito is lying underneath a gradually inclined ramp in one corner of the room, spying on people walking overhead, and trying to masturbate the whole time.

Vito told us a little bit about how art spaces used to be entirely different: they used to have pastel walls and carpeting, kind of like a rich person's living room. Then in the early 70s they changed to minimalist spaces with white walls, concrete floors. Even the new type of gallery space can't get away from the fact that it is an influence on the art, though: it reminds one now of an industrial space.

After Seedbed, Vito wanted to break the frame so you didn't know exactly where the art was. He figured this would make it more easily approachable, so that everyday people would have less trouble seeing the art. He told us that he likes Art as a verb, but not as a noun.

This is when he really started doing more installation pieces, but he decided that he didn't like how they needed to be housed in galleries. He thought that this kind of art is only a rehearsal and he wanted to take it out into the real world.

In the mid-80s he started working with architecture. He wanted to change the spaces that people experienced. He did this so he could bring art outdoors, to people, and he wanted them to be part of it, able to touch it, interact with it, be part of it. I think Vito would almost be happiest if the people didn't consider it as art at all.

He built a house using cars. He also created an outdoor garden that was in the shape of a big smiling face. Around this time he decides to start collaborate and starts a studio. He then really gets into larger "public art" types of architectural things.

He wanted people to stand next to the art (or sit on it, etc.) not because they viewed anything he created as "art" but because they felt connected to it.

He is currently moving into clothing, what he called the original architecture.

Vito ended by telling us he was always trying to be learning and seeing new things, and he told us about some of the music he is listening to these days: Aphex Twin, Plastikman, etc. He said that those are the sounds of the new city, and if he can understand those, he thinks he'll be able to make good art.

Heather spoke to us about her work since leaving ITP in the mid-90s. She is essentially a documentary filmmaker, but she has done numerous projects intended to reach across divides (digital, socioeconomic, geographical) and touch one another. She has spent time in Rwanda organizing refugee camps, in the south recording oral histories, and so on.

I was really inspired by what she said, and her words strengthened my resolve to use technology to do good. Her projects all, in some for or another, involved using technology to connect people, and I was reminded of NPR's StoryCorps a booth set up for everyday people to record their own life stories. The StoryCorps booth traveled around the US a couple times, gathering stories.