I feel like every time John stops by my studio for a little chat, there are epiphanies and revelations. What definitely does exist after a John visit is a massive block of information to unpack and digest. Hence the blog post, to get my thoughts down on... well not paper... but down in general. That way I can orient myself in the ever-rising tide of information.
There was another small critique today where I presented the programmable aspects of my project--the force sensitive resistor and the python code script. After answering questions and receiving ideas from my peers that I had considered before, we moved on to other students' work. John pointed out afterward that what I presented is only of value to those that understand it. The average Tom or Jane doesn't know much about programming, so right off the bat explaining a project with programming visuals and examples won't help raise much critique.
Similarly, with our In Progress Exhibition (in the Warren Robbins gallery) coming up (only a couple students from all of IP), this raises notions of presentation. Who is the audience? Who is the user? What will speak most to them? Not only that, but what is the ratio of work to appreciation of outcome? One could design the most complicated and sophisticated robotic fridge, and the viewer isn't going to care that much.
What we don't understand we can either perceive as being simpler than it is or more complex. The human mind naturally adds stories to things it needs to understand, even if those stories are bogus. Brian Christian mentions in The Most Human Human that people who have had the connection between their right and left brain halves severed do this without even knowing it. When their right brain does something that they do not perceive (because the left brain is the thinking brain), the left brain immediately comes up with a solution, whether it's accurate or completely incorrect. But I digress.
There was another small critique today where I presented the programmable aspects of my project--the force sensitive resistor and the python code script. After answering questions and receiving ideas from my peers that I had considered before, we moved on to other students' work. John pointed out afterward that what I presented is only of value to those that understand it. The average Tom or Jane doesn't know much about programming, so right off the bat explaining a project with programming visuals and examples won't help raise much critique.
Similarly, with our In Progress Exhibition (in the Warren Robbins gallery) coming up (only a couple students from all of IP), this raises notions of presentation. Who is the audience? Who is the user? What will speak most to them? Not only that, but what is the ratio of work to appreciation of outcome? One could design the most complicated and sophisticated robotic fridge, and the viewer isn't going to care that much.
What we don't understand we can either perceive as being simpler than it is or more complex. The human mind naturally adds stories to things it needs to understand, even if those stories are bogus. Brian Christian mentions in The Most Human Human that people who have had the connection between their right and left brain halves severed do this without even knowing it. When their right brain does something that they do not perceive (because the left brain is the thinking brain), the left brain immediately comes up with a solution, whether it's accurate or completely incorrect. But I digress.
Before I get too off topic, here are some simple infographics I made to better describe my current working idea.
So, in terms of the ratio of work done to appreciation of finished piece: When it comes to programmed projects, especially robots and the like, the novelty wears off incredibly fast. You could work for a year on a project, and not only has the global technology changed from ideation to completion, but people aren't going to perceive it to be amazing unless they fully comprehend the obstacles you encountered. Why will it not make that big of an impact?
Well, for one thing, think about our daily interactions with machines and "The Digital". I have never once been in a lecture where the speaker used the powerpoint, computer, and projecter seamlessly. There is always a problem. Even the most advanced systems can be clunky, difficult to use, or just plain annoying. Add to this the amount of times we do things that we don't understand the mechanics of. Time was when everything was mechanical, with gears, pulleys, and the like, and one could understand what was happening by watching carefully, like a giant Rube Goldberg machine. Now, with computers, everything that happens beyond the screen is invisible. Very few can understand the difficulties of making something like Google Maps. We use it every day and take it for granted.
Another issue that arises with a project like this one is the tremendous amount of interaction. I'm not just working with software and hardware and interfacing the two together, whoa no. I'm also dealing with people, or as John says, "wetware": great big gobs of greasy grimy gray matter floating around in our heads that define who we are. How do I make it so the user understands what their actions bring? How can I encourage the user's anthropomorphizing of a chair?
I don't have any answers right now, only questions. However, once the questions are asked, they can be answered, whether with more questions or actual answers.
Well, for one thing, think about our daily interactions with machines and "The Digital". I have never once been in a lecture where the speaker used the powerpoint, computer, and projecter seamlessly. There is always a problem. Even the most advanced systems can be clunky, difficult to use, or just plain annoying. Add to this the amount of times we do things that we don't understand the mechanics of. Time was when everything was mechanical, with gears, pulleys, and the like, and one could understand what was happening by watching carefully, like a giant Rube Goldberg machine. Now, with computers, everything that happens beyond the screen is invisible. Very few can understand the difficulties of making something like Google Maps. We use it every day and take it for granted.
Another issue that arises with a project like this one is the tremendous amount of interaction. I'm not just working with software and hardware and interfacing the two together, whoa no. I'm also dealing with people, or as John says, "wetware": great big gobs of greasy grimy gray matter floating around in our heads that define who we are. How do I make it so the user understands what their actions bring? How can I encourage the user's anthropomorphizing of a chair?
I don't have any answers right now, only questions. However, once the questions are asked, they can be answered, whether with more questions or actual answers.
Checklist
Accomplished:
Feels like not enough
Working On:
Ideation within bounds of reality
Thinking about motion
To Do:
Pecha Kucha Presentation (Due Oct. 23)
Grant Proposal (Due Nov. 7th)
Presentation Before Dean & Co. (On Nov. 8th)
Feels like not enough
Working On:
Ideation within bounds of reality
Thinking about motion
To Do:
Pecha Kucha Presentation (Due Oct. 23)
Grant Proposal (Due Nov. 7th)
Presentation Before Dean & Co. (On Nov. 8th)