Anti-Septic
I am buried in the library, with fellow studious souls enjoying the fruits of their academic pursuits. I am a little distracted however, especially by the lights. They are bathing me in a very harsh, white colour. Thats the problem with these new fluorescent bulbs, is that they release this anti-septic light, devoid of any warmth, of any feeling really. It is the product of form over function, and its impacts are by no means unnoticed. Lighting makes all the difference in an environment. It builds upon the appropriate mood. I guess this choice of lighting may be beneficial for some, as is it encourages focus and prevents distraction, a mood of intensity that translates to academic productivity. I don't know if thats the case for me. It makes me nervous more than anything, giving the tone of "Work, Work!" It reminds me of underground caverns and old office buildings, like the ones built in the 70s that should be torn down already.
I am tempted to study by candle. Sit in the dark with only a flickering soft light to see my academic progress, like the times of old. I guess I have been looking at one too many Carvaggio paintings, but something about that setup seems sexy and traditional at the same time. It would make me feel like an academic, as this environment isnt particularly encouraging for that endeavor. Computer screens don't help either. As a molecular biology concentrator I should be getting used to technology, but the feel of doing work on a computer screen just doesn't have the same quality. Note the irony as I type up this journal entry.
Its a lost cause where writing is concerned. I no longer write anymore. My appendages have become a intermittent extension of the computer keyboard, blasting away at whatever job comes next. The nice thing about a pen is that it is an extension of me, not the other way around. It has a free forming quality, the ability of ones ideas to extend from the mind to the hand in one smooth motion. This isn't the case with the computer keyboard, which is inherently choppy. It makes for sudden stops between or even within words, that I find less common when actually writing. Another problem with the keyboard is that the delete key is only a few millimeters away. When you write with pen, there are no deletions, what comes out of your mind stays on the paper unless you actively scribble it out. This limitation is not so apparent when using a computer keyboard. A quick mental decision, "Yuck, delete" half a second involving the movement of a pinky and a previous thought or idea vanishes as quickly as it was put down. This is a problem because that momentary decision to delete something is often a sudden outburst, and is usually regretted. I know I have lost ideas that way, and cant get them back.
There is also something important in the thought process when writing something out, especially the stream of consciousness that is the product of ramblings before putting down the important information. With the computer this is quickly and efficiently deleted "What am I writing, pointless get rid of it." On paper its not the case, and often it is interesting and beneficial to go back and see what comes out of the full writing process, the draft of dumping thoughts onto paper, rather than performing pseudo-"cleaning" as one types it on a computer. I guess one can train oneself not to do it on the computer, but it is so instinctual that I doubt it would be an effective method.
Unforunately, I have become used to the computer screen. Keeping a written journal seems foreign to me, and I feel that I might be missing out on something because of it. Oh well, maybe the pen will start talking to me sooner than later.
I am tempted to study by candle. Sit in the dark with only a flickering soft light to see my academic progress, like the times of old. I guess I have been looking at one too many Carvaggio paintings, but something about that setup seems sexy and traditional at the same time. It would make me feel like an academic, as this environment isnt particularly encouraging for that endeavor. Computer screens don't help either. As a molecular biology concentrator I should be getting used to technology, but the feel of doing work on a computer screen just doesn't have the same quality. Note the irony as I type up this journal entry.
Its a lost cause where writing is concerned. I no longer write anymore. My appendages have become a intermittent extension of the computer keyboard, blasting away at whatever job comes next. The nice thing about a pen is that it is an extension of me, not the other way around. It has a free forming quality, the ability of ones ideas to extend from the mind to the hand in one smooth motion. This isn't the case with the computer keyboard, which is inherently choppy. It makes for sudden stops between or even within words, that I find less common when actually writing. Another problem with the keyboard is that the delete key is only a few millimeters away. When you write with pen, there are no deletions, what comes out of your mind stays on the paper unless you actively scribble it out. This limitation is not so apparent when using a computer keyboard. A quick mental decision, "Yuck, delete" half a second involving the movement of a pinky and a previous thought or idea vanishes as quickly as it was put down. This is a problem because that momentary decision to delete something is often a sudden outburst, and is usually regretted. I know I have lost ideas that way, and cant get them back.
There is also something important in the thought process when writing something out, especially the stream of consciousness that is the product of ramblings before putting down the important information. With the computer this is quickly and efficiently deleted "What am I writing, pointless get rid of it." On paper its not the case, and often it is interesting and beneficial to go back and see what comes out of the full writing process, the draft of dumping thoughts onto paper, rather than performing pseudo-"cleaning" as one types it on a computer. I guess one can train oneself not to do it on the computer, but it is so instinctual that I doubt it would be an effective method.
Unforunately, I have become used to the computer screen. Keeping a written journal seems foreign to me, and I feel that I might be missing out on something because of it. Oh well, maybe the pen will start talking to me sooner than later.