#it's because i wrote an essay on the history of the astronomical unit back in uni

[serenpedac]

OCs as planets

I’ve seen this uquiz go around and obviously had to do it for my OCs. Because I won’t miss a chance to talk about astronomy, I also added the first thing that each planet made me think about.

Putting it under a cut and not tagging anyone, because I doubt astronomy ramblings are what anyone is following me for and I don't want people to feel obligated to read this, but if you want do the quiz, please feel free to tag me <3

Yael

venus

passionate. romantic. loving to be loved. courtship. adoration and taste. you are your own personal aesthetic. you are hand written love letters in copper ink. you are "let me show you just how much i can love you." you are royalty and class. love has no bounds with you. your heart is wrapped in chocolate tin foil. you attract what you manifest so keep believing in love. it is you and you, it.

I swear this didn’t come to mind just because I started watching the Bridgerton prequel series last weekend, haha, but the Venus transit, the phenomenon of Venus passing between the Earth and the Sun, has been key in determining the  distance between Earth and the Sun. Before the 18th century, Kepler’s laws had given an idea of the relative scales within the solar system, but actual distances were very hard to measure. However, astronomers realised they would be able to derive the Earth-Sun distance (the “astronomical unit”, au) if they had measurements of the duration of the transit from different places across the globe. I won’t go into the maths, but the idea is that Venus crosses a different part of the Sun if seen from different locations. With some trigonometry (simplified example here, since it has images that explain this better than words can), distances can be calculated.

In order to get these measurements, entire expeditions were coordinated in the 17th and 18th century! They eventually ended up with a value that was only about 3% off from the value we know it to be today, which is pretty impressive.

Gabi

saturn

patient. stable. reliable. preserving and diligent. your capacity to hold focus on something you choose to is unmatched by all other planets. you were made for hard work that you love and that you know is rewarding. you are the shoulder that everyone wants to cry on, so remember you can lean on yourself when it seems there is no one else. there is nothing wrong with being self sufficient. you are justice and evenly balanced scales.

While I love this answer for Gabi, nothing really came to mind at first, other than the obvious rings. But then I started thinking about planetary migration, which is very cool. There’s this theory called the Grand tack hypothesis that says Jupiter formed a lot closer to the Sun than where it is now. It then started moving even closer to the Sun, until it got caught into a gravitational resonance with Saturn, and both migrated farther out, eventually ending up in their current positions. 

Laura

uranus

innovative. unpredictable. resourceful. imaginative. creativity in science and disruption. oh, uranus. you were dealt the cards that don't have much to offer, but luckily you can always make them work. you are acrylic paint that has been plastered over the same canvas so many times that it is starting to have those little grooves of texture. you are ever-changing and suddenly it stops. and starts again. keep moving. nothing is wrong with not wanting to sit still.

This is a fun one! While the rotational axes of the other planets in our solar system are more or less perpendicular to their orbital plane, for Uranus, it’s tilted some 90 degrees. Basically, Uranus is lying on its side and is “rolling” along its orbit around the Sun. This means it are its poles that are pointed at the Sun—one at a time, of course — and not just its equator. Several theories exist to explain this odd orientation of the rotational axis, for example collisions with other objects.

Melike

neptune

mercy. kindness. sweet. forgiving and compassionate. you are second chances and sometimes third. you are "its ok because everyone makes mistakes." you are "i forgive you as long as you are learning." you are not held down by the demands of your ego. you believe and right and fair. open mindedness and friendship. you are mystical and magical, observant and the smell of warm bread in the morning.

Neptune is interesting, because it wasn’t discovered as a planet by observations like the other major planets, but through a comparison between models and real-life measurements of the orbit of Uranus. A discrepancy between the two was found, which was postulated to be cause by the gravitational influence of another planet: Neptune. Indeed, some years later, Neptune was “discovered”. I say “discovered”, because the planet had already been observed several centuries before by Galileo Galilei, but he thought it was a star. The thing I like about this is how it shows how theories and observations can complement each other!

[lucyt0601]

Final Research Paper

Katie Paterson and the Concept of Memory 

The purpose of my research is to study the work and practice of the artist Katie Paterson and how her work relates to the concept of memory. Paterson replicated her memories into her art works, taking what is inside of her to create her visible mediums, which include texts, monographs, videos, sculptures, images, numbers, etc. According to Ollivier Dyens in his article The Sadness of the Machine, “Memories of pleasure, pain, sadness and joy, are the common thread that unites all human beings. Memories are our existence, and art is their system of replication” (Dyens 2001, 77).

Born in Glasgow, Scotland in 1981 and currently based in Fyfe, UK, Paterson is one of the leading artists of her generation. She received her BA from the Edinburgh College of Art in 2004 and her MFA from the Slade School of Fine Art in London in 2007. She has since been the subject of solo exhibitions at institutions, recipient of the John Florent Stone Fellowship at Edinburgh College of Art, and was the Leverhulme Artist in Residence in the Astrophysics Group at the University College London from 2010 to 2011. She opened herself to different disciplines, but found it difficult to settle. She went between sculpture, fine art, and fashion then astronomy and geophysics. She stuck with art, cleverly incorporating science in her works. In collaboration with scientists and researchers from around the world, her projects consider the place of humans on planet Earth in the context of geological time and change. Her works utilize advanced technologies and expertise to display the engagements between people and the natural environment. The approach taken is Romantic and research-based, rigorous conceptualism and minimalism, shortens the distance between the viewer and the edges of time and the cosmos- essentially bringing said viewer closer to science through art. Paterson has broadcast the sounds of a melting glacier live, mapped dead stars, compiled a slide archive of darkness from the depths of the Universe, created a light bulb to simulate the experience of moonlight, and sent a recast meteorite back into space. She is fascinated by science and is known for her multidisciplinary and conceptually-driven work with an emphasis on nature, ecology, geology and cosmology. Her conceptual art finds everyday analogies for profound cosmological themes, is consistent in exploring scientific themes through contemporary art: her works have ranged from sending a "second moon" around the earth by courier service, to playing a record at the speed of the earth's rotation. Institutions approve of  her art because it fits some deep need they have for art that is conceptual and intellectual. That combination allows museums and respectable prize givers to feel they are “down with the kids,” while also furthering their liberal mission to educate the public. Using technologies normally applied to the speed and scope of human experience, the Scottish artist zooms out or tunnels in to other, more alien dimensions, reframing natural and cosmic phenomena. Anthropocentric worldviews are dissipated in favor of a different kind of consciousness, one keyed to evolutionary systems and rooted in contact with igneous chaos. She makes use of sophisticated technologies and specialist expertise to stage intimate, poetic and philosophical engagements between people and their natural environment.“Eliciting feelings of humility, wonder and melancholy akin to the experience of the Romantic sublime, Paterson's work is at once understated in gesture and yet monumental in scope.” Paterson has exhibited internationally, from London to New York, Berlin to Seoul, and her works have been included in major exhibitions including Hayward Gallery, Tate Britain, Kunsthalle Wien, MCA Sydney, Guggenheim Museum, New York, and The Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, Edinburgh. She was the winner of the Visual Arts category of the 2014 South Bank Awards, and is an Honorary Fellow of Edinburgh University. Her poetic installations have been the result of intensive research and collaboration with specialists as diverse as astronomers, geneticists, nanotechnologists, jewelers and firework manufacturers. As Erica Burton, curator at Modern Art Oxford, wrote at a solo exhibition in 2008, “Katie Paterson’s work engages with the landscape, as a physical entity and as an idea. Drawing on our experience of the natural world, she creates an expanded sense of reality beyond the purely visible.” In terms of inspiration, I would believe that her experience living in Iceland and around the world felt like visiting different planets. Traveling to drastically different places feels like visiting different worlds, which is what sparked her fascination with outer space and the cosmos. 

Recent works: Totality (2016), a mirrorball reflecting every solar eclipse seen from earth; Hollow (2016), a commission for University of Bristol, made in collaboration with architects Zeller & Moye, permanently installed in the historic Royal Fort Gardens: a miniature forest of all the world’s forests, including over 10,000 unique tree species spanning millions of years telling the history of the planet through the immensity of tree specimens in microcosm; Fossil Necklace (2013), a necklace comprised of 170 carved, rounded fossils, spanning geological time; Second Moon (2013), a work that tracks the cyclical journey of a fragment of the moon as it circles the Earth, via airfreight courier, on a man-made year-long commercial orbit; All the Dead Stars (2009), a large map documenting the locations of 27,000 dead stars known to humanity; Light bulb to Simulate Moonlight (2009), an incandescent bulb designed to transmit wavelength properties identical to those of moonlight; and History of Darkness (ongoing), a slide archive of darkness captured at different times and places throughout the universe and spanning billions of years. “Paterson created Earth-Moon-Earth (Moonlight Sonata Reflected from the Surface of the Moon) (2007). With the assistance of radio operators Peter Blair in Southampton, England, and Peter Sundberg in Lulea, Sweden, Paterson bounced Morse code Signals of the score of the first movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata off the moon and then transcribed the echoed information back into notation, which was then played back in exhibition on a player piano… Paterson employs a novel subtractive sonification based on ever-present loss. Regular radar scans of the surface would employ much higher power and include repetitions to override error producing a refined data set that a conventional sonification strategy would then transform into music or another art of sound. Paterson’s approach is different. Just as one hears the Pacific Ocean leak into the off-timings of Nam June Paik’s version of Bach, in Earth-Moon-Earth you hear the moon in what Beethoven does not sound like.” In itself, the universe is creativity and we are connected to it as it is made of materials that are commonplace. After learning of the Earth-Moon-Earth technology, Paterson found herself imagining what messages she would wish to send while strolling under a full moon. Musicalization of dead silences consists of sound recordings of three Icelandic glaciers on records made of frozen meltwater from these glaciers are played until the records melt, mimicking the loss and silencing of their source. History of Darkness, 2010 are, “...essays a cosmically laconic take on astro physical discovery of the protocols of its recording. For the Dying Star Letters, Paterson is sent an email each time scientists note a star has been expired; she then writes a letter of condolence.”

From Sydney, Australia to New York and Scotland, Paterson’s artwork has been present in both major showings and collections. Those include the Hayward Gallery, Tate Britain, Kunsthalle Wien, The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, and the Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney, Guggenheim, New York and the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, Edinburgh. She was the winner of the Independent’s Creative 30 award ‘for Britain’s most creative young person’ and most recently the winner of the Visual Arts category of the 2014 South Bank Sky Arts Awards and has been awarded with an Honorary Fellowship from the University of Edinburgh. 

She has worked in collaboration with institutions of scientific research and space agencies to realize complex projects that consider disciplines like astrophysics from an artistic point of view. For example, Paterson and Simon Faithfull teamed up to make work that tests the very limits of the sphere of human activity and knowledge, and their conception of the environment as a vastly expanded field is made possible by new developments in technology and radical advances in scientific thinking and method. At the same time, the way in which their work is actually realised retains a keen sense of physical constraints and material conditions; they set themselves wilfully difficult tasks, and resolve them in ingenious, laborious, sometimes eccentric ways. Paterson describes her practice as interdisciplinary, exploring landscape, space and time using technology to integrate the everyday and the cosmic. Everyday technologies are linked with something more vast and untouchable- telephone calls to melting glaciers, maps of every single dead star, street lights flickering in time with lightning storms, and music reflected back from the moon. Additionally, Margaret Atwood was asked by Paterson to be a contributor to her centennial project, Future Library, 2014-2114, a work of art in the form of time travel. Atwood is convinced that the human race will still exist in a hundred years. She ponders, “How strange is it to think of my own voice--silent by then for a long time--suddenly being awakened, after a hundred years. What is the first thing that voice will say, as a not-yet-embodied hand draws it out of its container and opens it to the first page?” In this project, words are grown through the trees, each ring becoming a chapter in a book. 

A Map of every dead star in the Universe--which ties closely to this FSEM--details the location of the 27,000 dead stars that have ever been observed and recorded in human history–and her map continues to grow with each dying star. In order to create her map, Paterson consulted with physicists, librarians, and archivists to compile a record of the stars that have been recorded and that have since faded away or exploded. In her project the boundary is fuzzy between life and death, between the end of one star and the beginning of another, and it invites us to examine how we remember and record the past. Since stars die every day, one would wonder how this project could ever be finished... all the dead stars combined would be the size of the Earth. I believe that this reminds us that nothing is ever “done.” We do not recall every bit of our memories, even if we think we do. 

Bibliography 

Larsen, Lars Bang. 2014. 1000 WORDS: Katie paterson and margaret atwood. Artforum International. 11, https://ezproxy.hws.edu/login?url=https://search.proquest.com/docview/1625101398?accountid=27680 (accessed October 16, 2019).

McKinnon, Dugal. "Dead Silence: Ecological Silencing and Environmentally Engaged Sound Art." Leonardo Music Journal 23 (2013): 71-74. http://www.jstor.org/stable/43832509.

Dillon, Brian. "Attention! Photography and Sidelong Discovery." In Aperture, No.

     211, Curiosity (Summer 2013), pp. 25-31. Published in JSTOR.

     Accessed October 29, 2019. https://www.jstor.org/stable/24473799. 

Kahn, Douglas. Earth Sound Earth Signal : Energies and Earth Magnitude in the Arts. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2013. Accessed October 29, 2019. ProQuest Ebook Central. 

"Message to the Moon: Katie Paterson's Life in Astronomy." Frieze. Last modified June 6, 2019. Accessed December 7, 2019. https://frieze.com/article/message-moon-katie-patersons-life-astronomy.

[comfsy]

On Turning 40 With An Ancient Heart

In February, I realized that I was no longer sleeping well. On the rare nights that I did rest, my tracker said I went into only 20 minutes of deep sleep a night total. Plus, the hours of light or REM sleep that I did have were punctuated with awful nightmares.

After a particularly rough stretch of ugly darkness, my friend Naomi asked to chat one night before bed. I slept soundly for the first time in months. In the morning, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that I had one hour and fifteen minutes of deep sleep. In the shower, where all good ideas derive, I decided to ask for some help and see who would want to have a nighttime call with me to help me sleep better.

Worried it was too hokey, I texted my brother as my brain-check.

“Are you kidding!?” he exclaimed. “Everyone feels helpless in this mess. Give them something to do.”

He was right.

I put up a short sign-up sheet on my personal Facebook page on February 13th, and by the end of the day I had a call booked every single night, all the way until late May.

“Some species of trees spread root systems underground that interconnect the individual trunks and weave the individual trees into a more stable whole that can’t so easily be blown down in the wind,” wrote Rebecca Solnit in her essay A Short History of Silence. “Stories and conversations are like those roots.”

The nighttime calls were my root system that leant a beautiful intimacy to already existing friendships. Everyone who signed up already knew me fairly well. The combo of my present situation, plus the tenderness with which everyone tried to tiptoe around it, assured that the calls were truly wonderful.

I wanted to direct the conversation away from my explaining how I was doing. I wasn’t doing very well, and to repeat that night after night didn’t seem like an effective way to sleep better. So I decided to ask everyone two questions:

When life takes something or someone important from you or delivers a big blow, how do you find hope and joy again?

Does spirituality affect your ability to be resilient in life? (By this I meant lower-case “s” spirituality, general connectedness to all things / something greater, not necessarily Spirituality in a religious sense. For many who were religious, it was one and the same.)

The questions led to some beautiful discourse, a deep dive into wonder and the human experience. People felt comfortable sharing their own grief and losses, as well as how they picked themselves up again.

I listened, I shared, and I felt connected to the world in a way that I missed.

I slept well almost every night.

(c) CDD20 via Pixabay

***

The day before my 40th birthday, someone asked me how old I felt internally. I laughed, saying that we all felt younger than we were. But she meant an actual number. The question stemmed from an exchange she had with her friends, since none of them felt their age.

Does anyone feel their actual age, over the age of 30? I suppose I assumed we generally did not, that we were all milling around in various states of cognitive dissonance, waiting for a certainty that would never arrive.

I thought about it and calculated that my internal compass stopped at 28. That was the answer I gave last Wednesday, and it still fits after exploring the edges of the statement ever since. It was at 28 that I planned in earnest to leave my law job and start traveling. I didn’t plan to keep traveling. My one year sabbatical was supposed to morph into real life once more, and into a law job potentially in the public sector instead of a private firm.

But as the story goes, not so much with the return to the law.

Frankly, up until that point, I did things a bit backward. I started law school just after my 19th birthday, I billed 90 weeks at a fast-paced firm, then moved to a slightly smaller one to work in advertising law. While I did play mini-putt in the hallway with paralegals while waiting for my proxy statements to turn, the level of billable hours certainly wasn’t what my most of my friends in their early twenties were doing. And as anyone in the billable business knows, the astronomical hours billed in my first year of lawyering meant far more actual hours in the office all told.

From the judicious billing in 6-minute units, I took a sabbatical to turn to what I loved most in the world: learning as much as possible every day. That my thirst to absorb (and eat!) turned into a business was extraordinary. That it sustained my travels financially and led me to develop a community of travellers and readers who supported my work was… well, very delightful. Very humbling. How did these smart, capable people become interested in my site? Reader meetups were a wondrous marvel. I didn’t know how they got there. I just felt grateful.

Long-term Legal Nomads fans know that I never quit my job as a lawyer because I burned out. I quit because I wanted to see the world, and let those memories inform my next steps as an attorney. That I had the privilege to do so was never lost on me. Taken together, that privilege plus my profound awe that I mistakenly stumbled into a passion that became a career, meant that most of my days took little for granted.

And then this leak happened.

When I look back, I feel a loss of innocence. How could I have known to also be grateful for the ability to tie my own shoes? To walk down the street without fear of someone bumping into me and reversing my fragile healing?

I wrote about being in pain since I got dengue fever, and along the edges of that pain I found a deeper appreciation for my work and my life. At the time, it felt that my world was narrowing beyond recognition for each. It took adjustment to recalibrate to gratitude.

With the perspective I have now, those years feel ethereal and free. That journey toward grace, and my earlier reacquaintance with food when I learned I was a celiac, both feel expansive in retrospect.

(c) CDD20 via Pixabay

***

One of my favourite short quotes is by Italian writer Carlo Levi, who noted that “the future has an ancient heart.” In a 2011 column on The Rumpus, Cheryl Strayed shared it and added that the quote beautifully summarizes her belief that who we become is born of who we most primitively are. Strayed’s reply was to a request for a graduation speech for writers, many of whom dreaded entering the real world.

I think it’s a useful sentiment for you to reflect upon now, sweet peas, at this moment when the future likely feels the opposite of ancient, when instead it feels like a Lamborghini that’s pulled up to the curb while every voice around demands you get in and drive.

I remembered this column when I began to write this post. Those times where the future felt roaring and new are curiously hard to grasp. With the weight of tragedy, I’m not alone in struggling to reconcile who I was with how my heart and soul has evolved.

The future may have an ancient heart, but my present does too.

In the two years since this spinal leak began, my inbox overflowed regularly with the rattled confusion that accompanies deep misfortune. And I write those people back using my thumbs and I say, “Yes – what we actually know in our hearts feels murky in the midst of unfathomable disorientation. Yes. I hear you. I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

How do you trust your heart when you can’t put on your own socks? How do you close your eyes and be you when “you” no longer exists in some fundamental way? The catastrophe led each of us to this mysterious place where nothing makes any sense always fails to provide the way out.

The cold truth is that life just isn’t fair. Depending on our childhoods, we learn that lesson early. Or, we learn it later. Eventually, we figure it out. How we deal with the stoic certainty of that unfairness as it churns through us dictates how well we survive.

In those two years, I’ve come to believe what many before me have said. That way out is through. The way out is remembering what we are outside the bounds of our wounds. In a society obsessed with doing, identity often ties to your accomplishments, not who you are. Fighting through all that “doing” to get to the “being” sometimes feels like a salmon trying to swim upstream.

My life today life is life itty bitty teeny tiny through no fault of my own. Many weeks I cannot go outside. I am not alone in this place; I have found others with similar, persistent CSF leaks and similar complications following treatment. Together we hold ourselves aloft in the ether.

As I’ve written before, getting through this is not about thinking positive for me. It’s about choosing what serves this journey best. Anger corrodes, and the last thing I need is more of that. It has taken a conscious shift to force myself past the borders of reasonable reaction, and into something open-hearted. To accept this twisted lot I’ve received, and then transform those fiery feelings into something lighter and more empowering.

A wisp of life is what I have, sure. But my work each day is to find joy in that wisp. Or put another way: I can’t change what happened now, but I can change the way I wake up each day. Moment to moment, I have had to pull out my most powerful emotion-microscope to find ways to feel gratitude despite how much I grieve.

I have many tools that have helped me calibrate that microscope, and I absolutely could not have done it alone. I also could not have dedicated so much brainpower and time to overcoming the mental aspect of this big life change without my family holding the weight of my physical care.

The “how to stay sane within tragedy” is a question I receive each day from readers. I hope to write about it when my health allows. It’s one of the most important questions we can ask, even in the absence of calamity.

Every day, the choice looms: do we dust ourselves off and try to find joy, or do we wallow in suffering? It’s a decision we all have to make. I used to think that optimizing for joy alone meant that we were neglecting the reasons for suffering. I equated the shift in thinking to burying my head in the sand. Through this experience, I see that even when we have good reason to wallow, it doesn’t help us endure or overcome.

My stakes feel particularly acute, since most of my days are spent to myself. I first had to accept the intrinsic unfairness. Slowly now, I can untangle the knots of my frustration and despair, and flatten out the thread until it looks sleek. Neat and tidy.

And then the next day, I start all over again.

***

This picture was a generous gift from my friend Marie-Christine. A wedding photographer, she came over to shoot photos and make me feel glamorous for my 40th. I put on makeup for the first time in almost a year, went on the balcony, and MC did her thing.

A wise person once told me decades ago that it was smart never to compare my insides to someone else’s outsides. Few people wear their struggles on their sleeve or their face. We never know someone’s story, we can’t say what is weighing them down or lifting them up. We use our own beliefs, honed with however many years of bias, to make a judgement call about a stranger.

It doesn’t look like I spent 10 months in bed or that my brain is sinking into my spine, does it? There’s a reason they call it “invisible illness”. It’s one of 30 photos I’m set to receive, all taken last week. My smile and laughter are real. I had an excellent afternoon with a dear friend, even though I paid for being upright with some extra pain.

The afternoon was a reminder of what I’ve tried to remember as I pass through this extraordinary time. That each moment we get with someone we love, each second that we can find goodness and joy — that’s one moment we aren’t giving into what exists and can dredge us down.

***

“As my face changes, I will lose myself,” writes Chelsea G. Summers in a piece about the skincare industry. “The skin-deep existential crisis is this: Who am I when I don’t recognize myself in my own skin?”

As a woman, aging unfurls all sorts of whispered consequences. Peeking grey hair and wrinkles and yes, changing skin. These days, aging is somewhere in a storage space at the back of my mind. At forefront is instead the dearth of basics that I never thought I’d lack. Walking. Being able to tie my own shoes or cut my own toenails. Opening a heavy drawer. Cooking my own food. Laughing hard or coughing or sneezing without worrying about opening up a bigger leak in my spine.

It’s not been an easy few years. It’s been the hardest few years, harder than I ever thought I could sustain. I haven’t given up, and have surprised myself with the resilience I needed to power through. “I couldn’t do what you’re doing,” people tell me. Of course they could. We never know the depths of our own adaptability and strength until it’s deeply called into question.

My story is no exception, it’s just a story of extremes. Freedom to not-freedom, with the love of the world in between.

Learning as much as I could powered my life as a traveler, and it’s powering my life now. I’ve spent two years reading everything I could about neuroplasticity, immunology, and epigenetics. I’ve meditated more than is reasonable. Through force of imagination and curiosity, and with the help of many remarkable people, I’m no longer in the pit. Even though I don’t know when I’ll walk again without brain sag.

There are thousands and thousands of people who have shown me they care during this absurd time. I try to show up for other leakers in the same way, or for readers who are scared about their pain.

I dreaded my 40th for the last while because my plan was for years to summit a big mountain with my friends. But as the day approached, I made more peace with where I am. Is it where I wanted to be? Absolutely not. But the same lust for life that fuelled my too-young-to-be-lawyering years and my eating-all-of-the-soup years sustains me now.

Life changes in an instant, and I feel proud that I packed in more in my 40 years than many people get in a lifetime. For the last two years, I’ve had to live life from the inside-out, searching for answers that don’t exist. Trying to keep my brain afloat both literally and figuratively.

***

My actual birthday was as good as it could be given the circumstances. I woke up to a burst of love from around the globe from my family, community, and friends. Friends and my mum stopped in all day long in waves, to give me gentle hugs. My Montreal bestie, who you may remember from my post about how I officiated her wedding in Costa Rica, came over for sushi dinner and a beautiful cake.

The cake was specially by Kleine Shoppe. The owner, Katie, patiently took my short list of “ingredients that don’t cause a Jodi to go into anaphylaxis” and turned out one of the most beautiful cakes I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating.

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Jodi Ettenberg Legal Nomads (@legalnomads) on Aug 16, 2019 at 5:43am PDT

To be clear, she chose the message not me. But it was both hilarious and delicious, and I saved some of it for future consumption.

I went to bed content on my 40th. Even without the foods I used to obsess over, I felt sated. And most of all, I felt deeply cared for.

Many of us have a hard time receiving love, and that’s been a lesson for me in the past two years. It’s hard not to feel unworthy – not of love generally, but the fierceness and care of so many who want to see me well. But the natural awkwardness of that feeling is far eclipsed by the strength it gives me, and the humbling effect the support has.

I’ve always looked young, something that was a liability as a lawyer, and a source of mirth as a traveler. But now, it feels particularly off-key. When I first arrived in New York as a summer associate I was 20. Amazed I was there at all, I would scrutinize people’s faces as they passed by. Who would I look like? Where would my life lead me in 20 years time? It’s always fascinating to remember the shape of those predictions in retrospect.

I look at my face and my face doesn’t look forty.

I look at my face and think, who cares how old my face looks?

In that 2011 Rumpus column, Strayed writes about the interstitial years between knowing your heart’s path and making it there, eventually.

The most terrible and beautiful and interesting things happen in a life. For some of you, those things have already happened. Whatever happens to you belongs to you. Make it yours. Feed it to yourself even if it feels impossible to swallow. Let it nurture you, because it will.

When I stare in the mirror, I see a weary but strong version of me that doesn’t jive with who I was, but is exactly who I am. Surprised and knowing all at once.

And in those quiet exhalations when the pain lessens for a blessed moment, I feel overwhelmed with pure love.

My soul in bloom and my ancient heart and my youthful face, all of it, braided together to help me feel whole.

-Jodi

How You Can Help

A lot of incredibly generous people have written to ask how to help during this time. I am not starting a Go Fund Me again, and unless things change I do not plan to.

However there are two easy ways to help.

1. Helping with awareness of CSF leaks

Make a donation to the CSF Spinal Leak Foundation, a 501(c)(3) charitable organization that has advocated tremendously for the condition I’m currently working to overcome. They are a lean organization, with those involved also dealing with spinal leaks – so every dollar counts. I’ve started a fundraiser for 1 week, via the Legal Nomads page. If you’re on Facebook, you can make a donation here until the fundraiser ends on August 22nd.

2. Helping me personally (which many of you have asked for specifically!)

I’ve told friends and extended family that the best way to help me is an Amazon gift card. This allows me purchase ingredients for foods I can eat, like teff and tiger nut flour, without my parents having to go hunt for them. I also use Amazon for the items that help with the disabilities I face – grabber devices, coccyx pillows, and my fave! Lying down glasses. You can send a gift card to legalnomads-at-gmail.com if you’d like to contribute to me personally.

***

PS. It seems my internal age broadcasts externally just fine, because several people joked that I looked 28 before I published this post. Here are a few of the responses from my birthday pics on FB and Instagram:

Best coincidence ever?

PPS. I had to end with a llama

Another of MC’s photos from our birthday photoshoot last week, with bonus llama photoshopped in by my always-creative friend, Laurence.

The post On Turning 40 With An Ancient Heart appeared first on Legal Nomads.

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Research Paper Draft #1

Katie Paterson and the Concept of Memory 

The purpose of my research is to study the work and practice of the artist Katie Paterson and to see how her work relates to the concept of memory- how she replicated her memories into her art works and takes what is inside of her to create her visible mediums, which include texts, monographs, videos, sculptures, images, numbers, etc. She used light and dark colors together and separately, how she employed simplicity and a clean style. According to Ollivier Dyens in his article The Sadness of the Machine, “Memories of pleasure, pain, sadness and joy, are the common thread that unites all human beings. Memories are our existence, and art is their system of replication” (Dyens 2001, 77).

Basic biographical information/identity as an artist and a person:  

Born in Glasgow, Scotland in 1981, one of the leading artists in her generation. Received her BA from Edinburgh College of Art, Edinburgh, United Kingdom in 2004 and her MFA from the Slade School of Fine Art in London, United Kingdom in 2007. She has since been the subject of solo exhibitions at institutions, recipient of the John Florent Stone Fellowship at Edinburgh College of Art, and was the Leverhulme Artist in Residence in the Astrophysics Group at the University College London in 2010-2011. In collaboration with scientists and researchers from around the world, her projects consider the place of humans on planet Earth in the context of geological time and change. Her words utilize advanced technologies and expertise to display the engagements between people and the natural environment. Approach is Romantic and research-based, rigorous conceptualism and minimalist, shortens the distance between the viewer and the edges of time and the cosmos. She has broadcast the sounds of a melting glacier live, mapped dead stars, compiled a slide archive of darkness from the depths of the Universe, created a light bulb to simulate the experience of moonlight, and sent a recast meteorite back into space. “Eliciting feelings of humility, wonder and melancholy akin to the experience of the Romantic sublime, Paterson's work is at once understated in gesture and yet monumental in scope.” Paterson has exhibited internationally, from London to New York, Berlin to Seoul, and her works have been included in major exhibitions including Hayward Gallery, Tate Britain, Kunsthalle Wien, MCA Sydney, Guggenheim Museum, New York, and The Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, Edinburgh. She was the winner of the Visual Arts category of the 2014 South Bank Awards, and is an Honorary Fellow of Edinburgh University. Her poetic installations have been the result of intensive research and collaboration with specialists as diverse as astronomers, geneticists, nanotechnologists, jewelers and firework manufacturers. As Erica Burton, curator at Modern Art Oxford, wrote at a solo exhibition in 2008, “Katie Paterson’s work engages with the landscape, as a physical entity and as an idea. Drawing on our experience of the natural world, she creates an expanded sense of reality beyond the purely visible.”

Her artistic creations:

Among recent works are: Totality (2016), a mirrorball reflecting every solar eclipse seen from earth; Hollow (2016), a commission for University of Bristol, made in collaboration with architects Zeller & Moye, permanently installed in the historic Royal Fort Gardens: a miniature forest of all the world’s forests, including over 10,000 unique tree species spanning millions of years telling the history of the planet through the immensity of tree specimens in microcosm; Fossil Necklace (2013), a necklace comprised of 170 carved, rounded fossils, spanning geological time; Second Moon (2013), a work that tracks the cyclical journey of a fragment of the moon as it circles the Earth, via airfreight courier, on a man-made year-long commercial orbit; All the Dead Stars (2009), a large map documenting the locations of 27,000 dead stars known to humanity; Light bulb to Simulate Moonlight (2009), an incandescent bulb designed to transmit wavelength properties identical to those of moonlight; and History of Darkness (ongoing), a slide archive of darkness captured at different times and places throughout the universe and spanning billions of years.

“Paterson created Earth-Moon-Earth (Moonlight Sonata Reflected from the Surface of the Moon) (2007). With the assistance of radio operators Peter Blair in Southampton, England, and Peter Sundberg in Lulea, Sweden, Paterson bounced Morse code Signals of the score of the first movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata off the moon and then transcribed the echoed information back into notation, which was then played back in exhibition on a player piano” (204). 

“Paterson employs a novel subtractive sonification based on ever-present loss. Regular radar scans of the surface would employ much higher power and include repetitions to override error producing a refined data set that a conventional sonification strategy would then transform into music or another art of sound. Paterson’s approach is different. Just as one hears the Pacific Ocean leak into the off-timings of Nam June Paik’s version of Bach, in Earth-Moon-Earth you hear the moon in what Beethoven does not sound like” (208). 

Musicalization of dead silences- Sound recordings of three Icelandic glaciers on records made of frozen meltwater from these glaciers are played until the records melt, mimicking the loss and silencing of their source.

History of Darkness, 2010: “...essays a cosmically laconic take on astro physical discovery of the protocols of its recording. For the Dying Star Letters, Paterson is sent an email each time scientists note a star has been expired; she then writes a letter of condolence” (31). 

Paterson praises the book,“Stone Mattress,” by Margaret Atwood, our first author for “Future Library.” (Paterson herself says) I love her work because she can speak through generations and time. I’m also reading “Invisible Cities,” by Italo Calvino, which is a collection of texts that imagines cities of all varieties made of bizarre materials. And “The Blue Fox,” by the Icelandic author Sjon. You follow a blue fox through a hunted journey. It’s like a fairy tale. All three books travel through time and space. And they all have very poetic language as well.

Paterson addresses her political standpoint by saying, “I was following the Scottish referendum on BBC Scotland, Yes Scotland and the Wee Blue Book Mobile Edition. I submitted my vote: Yes for an independent Scotland. I think we will see positive results from the referendum, even though the result is not what I had hoped for.” 

Inspirations/influences:

Her experience living in Iceland felt like living on another planet- traveling to drastically different places feels like going to different planets, which is what sparked her fascination with outer space and the cosmos. 

Reputation as an artist:  

She is fascinated by science and is known for her multidisciplinary and conceptually-driven work with an emphasis on nature, ecology, geology and cosmology. Her conceptual art finds everyday analogies for profound cosmological themes, is consistent in exploring scientific themes through contemporary art: her works have ranged from sending a "second moon" around the earth by courier service, to playing a record at the speed of the earth's rotation. Institutions approve of  her art because it fits some deep need they have for art that is conceptual and intellectual. That combination allows museums and respectable prize givers to feel they are “down with the kids,” while also furthering their liberal mission to educate the public.“The Works of Katie Paterson go sailing off the scale of civilization. Using technologies normally applied to the speed and scope of human experience, the Scottish artist zooms out or tunnels in to other, more alien dimensions, reframing natural and cosmic phenomena… anthropocentric worldviews are dissipated in favor of a different kind of consciousness, one keyed to evolutionary systems and rooted in contact with igneous chaos.”

Working and collaborating with others:

"You, at least, believe that the human race will still be around in a hundred years!" enthused the acclaimed writer and environmental activist Margaret Atwood when she was asked to be the first contributor to Paterson's centennial project, Future Library, 2014-2114, a work of art that is essentially a form of time travel.” 

Focusing on a single work and how it ties to our FSEM/memory: 

Fossil Necklace, a giant circular string displaying the development of life on Earth. It is made of 170 carved fossil beads representing the Earth’s memory of a major occurrence in evolution through geological time. According to Paterson, “Fossil hunting is a new hobby of mine. It happened because I made a necklace of 170 beads carved from fossils and it charts all of geological time on Earth. The first bead is 3 1/2 billion years old and contains the first cellular life on earth and it goes on from there. I had no experience in paleontology and it took ages to work out what I was looking for. Scotland has got an amazing coast where you can find fossils just on the beach. I didn’t know this at all. I also got fossils from fairs, eBay and auctions.” 

Campo del Cielo, Field of the Sky, 2012- may work with memory concept better (see video on James Cohan site). 

Suggestions from the writing fellow: I met with Emma Consoli this past Sunday and 5pm. I had a positive experience in the CTL with her because she liked the way I outlined my first draft, but she did tell me to cut down on the raw quotations and use more of my own voice. She had me change my wording of phrases here and there and pointed out some grammatical errors from when I first typed out the draft. 

Bibliography 

Murphy, Kate. "Katie Paterson." The New York Times Sunday Review. Last modified September 20, 2014. Accessed October 20, 2019. https://www.nytimes.com/2014/ 09/21/opinion/sunday/katie-paterson.html?searchResultPosition=1. 

Larsen, Lars Bang. 2014. 1000 WORDS: Katie paterson and margaret atwood. Artforum International. 11, https://ezproxy.hws.edu/login?url=https://search.proquest.com/docview/1625101398?accountid=27680 (accessed October 16, 2019).

McKinnon, Dugal. "Dead Silence: Ecological Silencing and Environmentally Engaged Sound Art." Leonardo Music Journal 23 (2013): 71-74. http://www.jstor.org/stable/43832509.

Dillon, Brian. "Attention! Photography and Sidelong Discovery." In Aperture, No.

     211, Curiosity (Summer 2013), pp. 25-31. Published in JSTOR.

     Accessed October 29, 2019. https://www.jstor.org/stable/24473799. 

Kahn, Douglas. Earth Sound Earth Signal : Energies and Earth Magnitude in the Arts. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2013. Accessed October 29, 2019. ProQuest Ebook Central.