Beautiful sounds: train conductor

The blaring announcement over the train’s intercom: all connecting trains will be met—spoken by a conductor still optimistic his shift will continue to run on time. 

Keeping the faith in AI

(Nicola aske me to write a story about my never-ending enthusiasm for new technology. Here is what I came up with.)

As some of you know, I’m a geek through and through. Over the last two and a half years, I have slowly and steadily explored different AI tools. As with all new technology, it has the power to disrupt just as much as it does to transform. As someone who has experienced such transformative technology firsthand over nearly 70 years, I would like to explain why I still have faith in the direction we are taking with AI.
 
This faith is built on one simple observation: even the inventors of innovative, transformative technology do not know or imagine how life-changing it will be. In the test of history, their vision, no matter how outrageous, proves to be too small. I’d like to take four examples of such technology to highlight this point.
 
Example 1: cars (1920s)
 
Cars were developed to create an alternative means of transportation to horses.
 
In my office at home, there is a photo of my grandmother in her early twenties, standing in front of her uncle’s Model-T car. Her uncle bought the car without knowing how to drive. Because he did like to imbibe, he quickly learned the dangers of driving while drunk. His solution was to make my grandmother his chauffeur.
 
My grandmother explained that back then cars were considered a luxury. Most people worried that if everyone could buy a car, madness would ensue. What would happen to all the horses and carriages? The economy would collapse, and masses of people would be unemployed.
 
Example 2: the telephone (1950s)
 
The telephone system was developed as a substitute for the telegraph.
 
My grandmother (the same as above) and grandfather eventually moved from Montreal to a small town outside of Ottawa. In their house, they had a telephone mounted on the wall, which was connected to the post office. Every call made or received was done through the postmistress.
 
My grandfather, a telecommunications engineer, told me years later an amazing story. He said telephones were invented as a substitute for the telegraph. The advantage of the telephone over the telegraph was that a person did not need to read Morse code. Because it was possible to convey information by voice, post offices could hire anyone to operate the phones.
 
He said what drove the transformation of the telephone from an information device to a communication device was giving women, principally postmistresses, access to the technology. My grandfather believed women made the telephone what it is today.
 
Example 3: PCs (1980s)
 
Office PCs were supposed to make us work faster and save on paper. I remember well when we got our first PCs at the engineering department where I was working. Was it a DOS system or the first Windows system? I can’t really remember. But it was magic. We could write texts, like training manuals, and make corrections at any time without added expense. We could make calculations with speed and efficiency.
 
Those first few years of developing PC technology were filled with both strong arguments, such as how they would save costs in manpower and paper and increase speed and efficiency. As well, there were many bleak prognoses about loss of jobs, the quality of human interaction, and our lives being dictated by machines.
 
In hindsight, all of this can be argued to have come true (except for the paper bit), but a world without computers is inconceivable. Even I, who did work in a pre-computer world, can’t imagine anyone wanting to turn back the clock. It’s not a matter of good or bad, but inevitability and opportunity.
 
Example 4: web 2.0 and social media (2000s)
 
Web 2.0 and social media sites allow everyday people to create their own content.
 
At the time, many believed that news channels, newspapers, magazines, and book publishers would go bankrupt and become obsolete.
 
As someone who was there and active at the dawn of the Internet, raising my kids as the first generation of digital natives was often a lonely and controversial path to follow. The news channels shouted about the dangers of using technology. In our circle of friends, there was a rigid belief that all responsible parents should keep their children away from Internet technologies. In our schools, there was a strict boycott of the use of media in the classroom.
 
In the end, I spent a few years working as a researcher in the field of multimedia and interactive systems. My life’s mission became to bridge the gap for K-12 students, teachers, parents, and school administrators. It was shocking how the adults lacked any experience with media, which made the educators and parents woefully unprepared to teach their children for future careers.
 
This work showed me how enthusiastic students were, and how unprepared teachers and parents were to guide their children’s learning.
 

What this resulted in was a generation of children who had to help adults cope with ever-changing technology. They were often the ones configuring the channels on a new television, installing new versions of Windows, or new printer drivers. And now they, along with Gen Z, are the generations having to wrestle with all the new developments in AI.

If we want to create a future where AI is used constructively and creatively, rather than just for speed and cost savings, we all need to participate in this transformation. Instead of spending the majority of the time reading news articles or watching YouTube videos, we should start using AI. 

If each of us from the older generations were to humbly use AI tools in our work or personal lives, we could enter the multitude of conversations taking place at this very moment. Many of the questions we are currently exploring about AI are not technical but philosophical. How can each of us find answers to these questions if we do not experience AI firsthand?
 
So, this is my appeal to those of us in the older generations: we should not leave them alone on this journey. We need to have faith, show some grit, and take part ourselves.

Comfort hesitates to settle in

Visiting friends after a long time away is a time of rediscovery. It is not only about figuring out what to talk about once we have travelled along the path from back then to now. There are also the small hiccups of when to go to bed and how to find a few moments of stillness early in the morning before the day begins.
 
There is this “please feel at home” sentiment that does not fit quite as easily as it once did. Perhaps when we were younger and weaving in and out of each other’s lives almost daily, we could take it for granted that we needed our own space. Now, there is almost a gentle formality to visiting a friend I have only texted or called in recent years. I am careful not to tread on the rhythms of their daily life. Maybe I am simply a little more thoughtful than I used to be. There is no longer the easy assumption that this is just one of many visits still to come.

I lost that sense of endless opportunities during the corona years. Being able to hop on a train or plane is now something I approach with more consideration. I book flex price because I am not always sure that I or the universe will be ready to travel when the date arrives. Perhaps it is this uncertainty that has worn thin the old habit of dropping in on family and friends without much thought. I still love the idea of seeing them, yet I no longer have quite the same knack for instantly feeling at home. 

Outside my train window

Stork in field of hay
Wagon 3, seat 131
I'm roaring back home.

Beautiful sounds: leaves

The foosh of bending branches as the leaves dance in rhythm with the wind.

Beautiful sounds: suburbia

The steady drone of a lawn mower on a Friday afternoon—that one neighbour getting a head start on the weekend to-do list.

Quiet morning

 Another post in my visual journal.

Chores, commands, and the art of doing it right

Photo by Jim DiGritz on Unsplash

In Life’s Like That Sometimes, Khaya Dlanga shares a memory of his childhood Saturdays, when his mother ran the household like a finely tuned machine. Everything had to be spotless. And if something wasn’t done right? You did it again. And again. Until it was right. “No one was going to do it for you,” he writes.
 
I couldn’t help but smile reading that. To Pat, chores were a fact of life. You didn’t ask why—you asked what's next.
 
She had time. She had patience. She had standards.
 
And she believed that children should learn how to care for themselves and contribute meaningfully to the household. Not as a punishment (or at least not always). Not even necessarily as a lesson. Just because that’s what being part of a family meant.
 
Boy, did things change in the generation of my children and those of my friends' children. 

So very hungry

Yumyum Zaziki,
Lentil soup with fresh baked bread
Regal feast for lunch.

Sea bath museum

 

By popular demand... a museum in Travemünde, Germany, a port on the Baltic Sea, dedicated to those of you who want to know the 200-year-old history of sea bathing. It includes bathing fashions over the years.

Doesn't it tickle your toes?

Pitstop trip to Berlin

 

Ode to Kim's life in Gibbson

Early morning. The bunk at the bow of the boat is warm and cozy, as long as she doesn’t touch the inner wall of the hull. Her sleepy eyes refuse to open. Her tired brain tries to stay in the land of dreams. Unwillingly, she sighs, admitting the loud stranger of awakeness.

It tangles her legs in the sleeping bag and fills her bladder to bursting point. Groaning, she scissors-kicks her legs out of the bag and over the side of the bunk. She stumbles her way to the head (toilet), jars her knee on the handle of the pump, and plomps down on the wiggling toilet seat. What she wouldn’t give for a proper self-flushing toilet.

She hears her sister stomping about on deck, lowering the kayak and pushing off for her morning paddle.

After putting on some water to boil, she returns to the forward cabin and slips on numerous layers of clothes. The inner layer is newly laundered; the outer is from yesterday and does not smell so fresh. She heads back to the galley and makes herself a cup of tea. It’s a large cup, purchased at a local artisan fair from a potter who obviously embodies the Japanese aesthetic of wabi-sabi.

Teetering up the steep ladder into the cockpit, the full teacup miraculously doesn’t spill. She looks out at the water, its mist blurring the details of the shoreline but not the sounds of birdlife and birdsong all around. This is the perfect moment of the day: alone, except for her sister in the kayak farther away, the water, and some still unclear ideas about how they might fill the day.

Plön (train station)

 

Explore: curiousity

 

Anne-Laure Le Cnuff says an amazing thing: "In a sense, being committed to curiosity is ensuring you are going to live a life that is intentional. You are going to live your life. Not the life others are expecting you to live."

We are all put on this planet with an innate sense of curiosity. Unfortunately, our society and education system make it hard for us to keep being curious. That sounds weird since these forces should help us learn how to live out our curiosity. 

Many people I know are not interested in learning new things or being experimental in their approach to life. They wonder why I am always trying out new things and improving my skills. Creativity is a muscle, and curiosity fuels it.

So, here is to exploring more, celebrating trial and error, laughing at one's mistakes, pushing boundaries, and combing the information chaos with a fine-toothed comb for strands of insightfulness.

True love

I am in the waiting room of my ob-gyn. Nervous and feeling strangely out of place. There are three other couples in the waiting room. Each woman shows late stages of pregnancy.

My pregnancy is young. So young, I cannot wrap my head around the fact that, if all goes well, I am going to be a mom. A single mom. My child's father is not going to be my partner. At that point, I am not even sure he will acknowledge he is the father.

So, I turn my eyes away from the seemingly happy couples and glance down at the coffee table covered in gossip magazines. Beneath the pile, I see the corner of one of those beautiful photography books and inspiring quotes.

The photos are all in black and white, beautiful images of people in motion and stillness. Beneath every picture is an inspiring quote. I look at the images, read the quotes, and grow quiet at a quote I will paraphrase: "You can only find true love if you first have a love of truth." 

Truth – I am going to be a mom. Truth – I am so happy someone has chosen me to be their mom. Truth – I'm really scared and alone, but not really.

TR update: another rework of the script and new ideas

This month has been crazy. I am working on so many different parts of getting the trip on an Oldendorff bulk carrier to happen. It is still not greenlighted, but I am hoping by mid-June I will know one way or another if I can go on the voyage. 

Here is the website I made to collect all the writing and podcasting about this and other journeys I took at sea. 

That doesn't mean I have forgotten about Talkshow Rivals. I did another rework of the script because a beta reader came up with some really smart ways to make the character of the player, Kay, more alive.

Now, I have to finish putting in all the corrections and new sections into the text.

Julien has convinced me that I should use AI to help me create an interactive graphic novel of one of the scenes, so that I can show game developer companies, what the game could look like. Doing a interactive comic version would be too much at this point in time.

I am also researching and looking at what interactive graphic novels are out there.

What all of this means is, for the next few months I am putting the project on the back burner. If all goes well, I will take it up again after the voyage is over. Since I have been working on it for the last 25 years, another few months won't matter.

Beautiful sound: fashion statement

The fairy-like tinkling of silver bells woven into a young woman's boots as she walks down the street.

I am... a podcaster

One of the many remarkable things about the last company (EO) I worked for is their retirement present. They gave me a voyage anywhere in the world for any amount of time, with airfares and hotel accommodations to and from the vessel included.

I'm going to explore all sorts of new ideas and technology along the way. I've decided to do an oral travel log, from beginning to end. Since the vessels have only restricted access to internet, I can't use AI to help edit the interviews and personal reflections.

Still, I've decided to approach the project as if I'm a professional podcaster. Let's see what happens.

Explore: My inner warrior

Years ago, I had a long conversation with eWa about the challenges of balancing work and motherhood. She introduced me to the Buddhist concept of the "inner warrior."
 
I remember us laughing as we imagined what our inner warriors might look like and what would happen if they ever surfaced. That laughter, filled with warmth and camaraderie, was invigorating—especially at a time when I was battling insomnia, dealing with a terrible colleague who made work miserable for everyone, and struggling with the relentless chatter of my inner critic.
 
Now, having come out of retirement a few months ago, I find myself immersed in a slew of new projects. Thankfully, each one is a collaboration with one or two other creative spirits, making the work a true delight.
 
What has surprised me most, though, is the unexpected emergence of my inner warrior. It’s as if they had been lurking at the periphery of my soul like a barracuda waiting to strike. All it took was granting myself permission to fully show up in artistic collaborations and step into situations I had previously avoided.
 
To be brave. To be audacious. 
 
The feeling of liberation that comes with shedding old social restraints is exhilarating. And perhaps the biggest surprise? My inner warrior is not the young, (very handsome) Japanese samurai I had once imagined. Instead, she is an elder—an old woman with infinite power, wisdom, and an unshakable presence.
 
What a joy and revelation it is to finally meet this invincible being, living so close to my heart. 

Beautiful sounds: squirrel

The high-speed stamping of a squirrel’s foot, a burst of energy before it darts off to its mate.