Art

If there is one piece of art that I would like to own in my future home it is the time fountain.

I am colorblind (but that's a loaded word)

When I was about 10 years old, an eye doctor told me (and my mother) that I was colorblind. The diagnosis came after I repeatedly failed to tell the optometrist what numbers were hidden in several shapes made up of various arrangements of colored dots. At that age, I was a little confused because I was sure that I could tell the difference between colors: I didn't see the world in 'black and white'. But quickly I realized that there was really no way for me to tell if and how I was experiencing the world differently from my fellow 4th graders. Is a rose as red to me as it is to you? How do we know or find out? What if the color I call green actually looks blue to you? (this, by the way, was also my introduction to philosophy of the mind)

A few weeks later, when I tried to learn more about this horrible thing that had happened to me, I learned that being 'colorblind' did not necessarily mean that you could not see colors. It simply meant that I had a ratio of certain types of cones and rods (cells) in my eyes (that help reflect light to the appropriate receptor cells) that was different from the general population's ratio which, in turn, affected the way colors reached the image centers of my brain.

As I grew older, when it came up that I was colorblind in my interactions with other people, I was continuously surprised by their reactions. They typically were a little shocked(even though colorblindness in males is not so uncommon) and many seemed to pity me for not being able to experience the world at its fullest. I often had to explain that, yes I can tell the difference between a red crayon and a green crayon, no the world is not gray for me, and no I don't have any trouble whatsoever at traffic lights (shockingly the most common question... people fail to realize that the position of the green light with respect to red is fairly consistent so even if I couldn't see the color difference, which I can, I could deduce which light meant 'stop' from its position relative to the one meaning 'go', even when the lights are horizontal).

I've found that people don't really understand what it means to be color blind and it's difficult to express it in words. But I've finally discovered a website that might help: How do things look to colorblind people?.

If you want to get a feel for how I see the world, take a look at the little image applet in the center of that page and scroll your mouse over the words protan and deutan. Now, I think actually see more color than that (those images look very dull to me) but the difference between those two is basically indistinguishable for me (I see a very slight difference in brightness). I suspect it is stronger for you (if you are not colorblind). I do see a much larger difference between either of those and the 'normal' but the hues for the normal picture have probably been enhanced for purposes of demonstration (and also, as I went through puberty I noticed that I became more adept at finding the numbers in the shapes of dots which means either that the severity of my colorblindness decreased with age or I just learned some other trick).

My optometrist tells me that I suffer from deutonomaly and protonomaly. This apparently means that different shades of red (and green) are simply not as different to me: I often mix up purple for brown and brown for purple and I have to take your word that those leaves on certain plants that turn red at the edges but stay green in the center are actually as you describe them, because for me they are typically just light green leaves that become darker.

In terms of tests: If you take a look at the bottom most test on this page, while I have no problem finding the numbers in step 2 and 3, I basically fail step 4. I see nothing but one hue of colored dots at different brightnesses. There is no number for me (is it a 5? or logically a 7, the next number in the series?)

But to recap, when you learn that someone is colorblind, try to find out what type of colorblindness that someone has before extending your pity (I get incredibly embarrassed when people feel sorry for me over my inability to be an interior decorator or airline pilot). But if I fail to see the beauty of the colors in a flower arrangement or a watercolor painting, you should cut me a little slack.

One interesting behavioral outcome of my colorblindness, I speculate, is my increased interest and appreciation for the geometry of paintings over the colors and color contrasts. This is probably why I find Picasso's guitarist infinitely more eye catching than van Gogh's starry night, for example.



But I'd love to find out in what other ways my poor ability to contrast red and green have influenced and distinguished my adult self from those freaks, the colorseers.

Circus acrobats performing a ballet piece based on swan lake

It's a little bit like magic:

My personal hero

Lily McElroy actually does the things that I would do if I followed the impulses in my head.

I especially like the video art where she draws a square on a well trafficked city side-walk and, with only her body, contests those who attempt to enter it.

Genius.

Photographs made cooler by lenticulation

I like taking pictures of stuff. A few years ago I became aware of lenticulation and since then I've tried to figure out how to create my own using a couple of cheap digital cameras. Once I'm done with grad school, I think I'll really try to make that happen.

Part 3 of the "cultural games I don't want to participate in" series

Intellectual Masturbation

I vaguely recall reading Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 when I was a high school lad. I vaguely remember one of the themes of the book was about government censorship. That's actually a lie. I remember government censorship being the CENTRAL THEME of the book. I don't know if I came up with that analysis or if it was implanted by whichever high school lit teacher was responsible with enlightening me.

The point is that the Author, one Mr. Bradbury, did not intend for that to be THE or even a theme of his book.

Should this matter? After all, the muse works in mysterious ways. Maybe his subconscious was speaking through his pen. Maybe critical analysts of literature are much more intelligent than the authors of the books they critique. Or, maybe, Cien años de soledad was really just about a family and their crazy adventures and not a socio-political allegory on the state of Latin America.

This sort of pseudo-intellectual bullshit is exactly what is supposed to shame me out of reading science fiction. I refuse to buy into it. If you're going to write a book that only a subset of the educated elite population is going to appreciate that's you're prerogative. But I loathe the industry that develops around this very notion that there are different kinds of Art, each belonging to a segregated social class.

We're living in a country where a trip to a MoMA (any of the dozens splayed across the country) is going to cost you $20+ and nobody, not the poor nor the rich, cares. How lucky we are that 3/4th of our population is functionally literate, it's just a shame that less than a fifth of us cares to use that skill.

I'm going to teach my children to read ASAP and then, when they're old enough, I'll give them a copy of Ray Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451" and then ask them to teach me what it's about. They'll tell me, and then we'll go to an art museum together.

Children I want to have

I want me this baby!

glumbert.com - Genius 3-year-old finger painter