I tried breaking my ties from Blogger recently, and wiped my entire blog here clean.
As so frequently happens in life however, I felt the need to undo what I had erased. Fortunately I had backed up before I hovered over that fateful button, and within a few minutes, almost everything was returned from deletion land.
I feel that a record of the past is one of our most beautiful gifts. We should cherish it, because it teaches us - and with that in mind I have restored my blog - a collection of almost ten years of online writings - which will remain here.
Having said that, future entries will no longer find their home here. My new online journal needs somewhere a little cleaner to live. You will find it here: http://www.jimzip.com/blog
Thanks for following along all these years.
Jimzip :D
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Art: Tropical Skwark!
Every now and then, a sketch falls out of my pencil that feels like it should adorn 50's product packaging... and I think this is one such piece.
This little guy actually began as a test, I was playing with proportion and indeed, a 50's style of illustration. In the end, it turned out being one of my favourites in a series, mainly because of the colours, but also because I really like how the overall texturing came out.
Another one for a t-shirt? I'll let you decide.
A bientôt!
Jimzip :D
This little guy actually began as a test, I was playing with proportion and indeed, a 50's style of illustration. In the end, it turned out being one of my favourites in a series, mainly because of the colours, but also because I really like how the overall texturing came out.
Another one for a t-shirt? I'll let you decide.
A bientôt!
Jimzip :D
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
The Evil Neighbour - Or How I Learned to Stop Loving, and Hate the Girl Next Door
The cold war was (from what I have read, heard and seen in overly prevalent postcard photos) really something pretty dysmal to live through, if you were anywhere near the influence of mother Russia, or caught between the trade embargoes, tension and lack of internet, then you had no choice but to sit back hopelessly and watch the super powers scratch at each other until they both gave up.
A similar relationship exists between myself and my neighbour. A sour, bitter husk of a woman evidently deprived of zygomaticus major or any connected muscle tissues at birth. Every greeting is met with a grunt, and normal formalities are swept away in a muddy stream of silence.
Perhaps she's so eternally noxious because mail that cannot be delivered to the rightful recipient is always dropped in her jagged talons - yet then I remembered the only reason she receives this mail is because the woman in the hall opposite who usually does so is on holiday.
Normally not a bitter man, I took the first few encounters with a nonchalant laugh and a flick of my hair (this recounting may be falsified), but naturally, after a few run-ins and not being able to squeeze even a smirk from the creature, I did what I usually do when someone rubs me the wrong way; and continued being nice.
It was not until today that this changed, when I rang the doorbell to collect a package on my way to work, and was greeted with an eye at the keyhole and then retreating footsteps, followed by music in the apartment behind the door being turned up. It was this moment when I decided to retrieve my white enmity gloves from storage - where I swore I would leave them - and begin a mini-cold war of my own.
It's an experiment, per se, to see if her icy demeanor and excecutioner-style unkindness is actually unintentional, or whether she truly is Jadis, Queen of Charn and has no capacity for warmth.
I will ring her doorbell once more on the way home, and when she answers, I too will stare at her with ursine bluntness, my usual smile vacant, my greeting consisting of just three - possibly four syllables (everything in German requires at least double what one normally uses in English), and then I will take my mail, thank her (omitting the standard "kindly" and "very much" - sure to come as a shock) - after which I will turn and leave without waiting for her to close the door.
Before you cry "genius", and "she can't help but become infuriated" I will just say, yes, I know. Surely, my victory lies close.
Jimzip :D
A similar relationship exists between myself and my neighbour. A sour, bitter husk of a woman evidently deprived of zygomaticus major or any connected muscle tissues at birth. Every greeting is met with a grunt, and normal formalities are swept away in a muddy stream of silence.
Perhaps she's so eternally noxious because mail that cannot be delivered to the rightful recipient is always dropped in her jagged talons - yet then I remembered the only reason she receives this mail is because the woman in the hall opposite who usually does so is on holiday.
Normally not a bitter man, I took the first few encounters with a nonchalant laugh and a flick of my hair (this recounting may be falsified), but naturally, after a few run-ins and not being able to squeeze even a smirk from the creature, I did what I usually do when someone rubs me the wrong way; and continued being nice.
It was not until today that this changed, when I rang the doorbell to collect a package on my way to work, and was greeted with an eye at the keyhole and then retreating footsteps, followed by music in the apartment behind the door being turned up. It was this moment when I decided to retrieve my white enmity gloves from storage - where I swore I would leave them - and begin a mini-cold war of my own.
It's an experiment, per se, to see if her icy demeanor and excecutioner-style unkindness is actually unintentional, or whether she truly is Jadis, Queen of Charn and has no capacity for warmth.
I will ring her doorbell once more on the way home, and when she answers, I too will stare at her with ursine bluntness, my usual smile vacant, my greeting consisting of just three - possibly four syllables (everything in German requires at least double what one normally uses in English), and then I will take my mail, thank her (omitting the standard "kindly" and "very much" - sure to come as a shock) - after which I will turn and leave without waiting for her to close the door.
Before you cry "genius", and "she can't help but become infuriated" I will just say, yes, I know. Surely, my victory lies close.
Jimzip :D
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Silent At Sunset - Short Piece
I walked down the street, silent at sunset save for the wind whipping over a rounded series of granite teeth nearby. Some pussywillows bobbed in the blond eventide. Not a soul was around. It felt like I really was at the edge of the world, sea-wind blowing from the source, unseen around the next bend, over the next mesa, beyond the stone islands. The street curved, forked, and a forest greeted me, the tall alder and birch on a bed of moss. Things feel so primal here, so raw and rich - it's hard to imagine something so pure until you feel that cold air brushing your cheeks, and the murmer of the trees all around. It's as if the world here is older, but fresher. I wish I could scoop it into my hands and take it back home. Instead I open my eyes, breathe it in, and try to imagine how I will imagine this later.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Hope & Hostility - An Open Letter
What I will always fail to understand, is how minds at the top of the political ladder feel it justifiable to let hatred be their compass, and I will wonder what blatant idiocy let this misguided garp become policy.
For a second, let's stand back and ignore the rest of the world exists. If that's so, you still shouldn't be able to make such decisions. The fact that you would ever let your opinions become more than your own quiet thoughts is one problem. But the world does exist outside your borders, and now you are faced with some very hard questions.
What role does that play in advancing your country? What role does that play in advancing human kind? What signal does that give to the rest of the modern world, and what does it say about your own citizens, of whom many disagree but (now, like in the comparatively recent past) have no voice?
To my readers, I understand that many of you out there feel this doesn't impact you, or you may find it insignificant. Some may feel that because of the large natural gas and oil dependancies from this country, that, following the startling silence of the UN, the IOC and most of the world powers, nobody can say anything about it - but that is even more reason to do so.
If you and your girlfriend, wife, boyfriend or husband were jeered at in the street, or wrenched apart and bludgeoned, had tomatoes thrown, or urine tipped over your heads publicly, how indeed would you feel? If you comitted suicide, and this wasn't horrible enough, but your memory was then smeared by those left behind simply because hating is encouraged - would you recognise it as agony? If this happened to that friend you were just sending a message to on Facebook, or your mum or dad, brother or sister, what then?
As this is written, individuals and couples alike are being beaten, kidnapped, raped, and publicly humilated just for being themselves. In some cases, these actions are being filmed and distributed online. The Russian government has ratified it, and this ignorant, backward mindset backed by law gives people an excuse to carry it out, essentially free from judgement and reprehension.
I personally fail to see how I, walking down the street holding hands with the one I love, differs in any way from you, walking down the street holding the hands of the one you love. Or them, walking down the street with someone they love. I fail to understand how my life is 'wrong' because I like green instead of blue.
If your argument is that I am an abomination in the eyes of God, I would respond that I, as well as you and all things wild and wonderful, are His creations, and he is supposed to "love them all". Is a message of compassion and tolerance not what the Church is for? What else it is meant to propagate?
If you side with hate because you feel it's wrong or uncomfortable, I encourage you to step outside your comfort zone, and see that love is just love. Blind, deaf, and as simple as you or I - which is to say, complex to the extreme. It can only be understood by experiencing it, and we all should go out of our way to do so. But it is never something to be judged, or hated, even though at times jealousy or personal lack leads some to do so.
I am overwhelmed with disappointment for the leaders of Russia - and pained to think of its citizens, but I feel more than ever that it is time to voice out in whatever way I can, because I am - quite honestly - getting tired of being disappointed, and tired of hearing of the repercussions of one power-obsessed bigot's choices.
Hate has never done one useful thing for humanity. We are capable of so much more, and it shows when we come together that incredible things can be accomplished. It shows equally, what disasters lie in misguidance. Haven't we learnt enough from the past yet? How many times must we repeat things just to become a better civilisation? The world is now making some huge bounds forward in terms of rights, but every now and then, someone stumbles and staggers that process. In today's world, this kind of hate is one such stumble, and it should not exist. It's time for us to start working together, and realising that we are all born on this planet together, and that in this one life of ours we can do something wonderful - or we will repeat these problems over, and over, and over.
Stephen Fry, Nick Symmonds, celebrities and media worldwide are condemning Russia's behaviour right now, and I ride wholeheartedly with them. I don't speak out about many things, but this ridiculousness must stop.
The winter Olympic Games are once again approaching, and to host them, Russia will have to do so much better. At current I boycott them entirely - on the ground of blatant hypocracy: Russia's government is spreading unfairness, discrimination and ignorance instead of the values of which those very games stand for, and it would be a mockery to watch them under such circumstances.
Last week a petition which I, along with 330,000 others signed was delivered to the IOC headquarters in Switzerland, and it got attention. But this should just be the beginning. Much more needs to be done to show Putin that his behaviour right now is unacceptable.
Sometimes all it takes to show family, friends, leaders, goverments or countries which is the correct path, is the voice of a few. Perhaps this issue will summon the voice of many.
I can't stress enough how much I want this effort to succeed.
Jimzip
For a second, let's stand back and ignore the rest of the world exists. If that's so, you still shouldn't be able to make such decisions. The fact that you would ever let your opinions become more than your own quiet thoughts is one problem. But the world does exist outside your borders, and now you are faced with some very hard questions.
What role does that play in advancing your country? What role does that play in advancing human kind? What signal does that give to the rest of the modern world, and what does it say about your own citizens, of whom many disagree but (now, like in the comparatively recent past) have no voice?
To my readers, I understand that many of you out there feel this doesn't impact you, or you may find it insignificant. Some may feel that because of the large natural gas and oil dependancies from this country, that, following the startling silence of the UN, the IOC and most of the world powers, nobody can say anything about it - but that is even more reason to do so.
If you and your girlfriend, wife, boyfriend or husband were jeered at in the street, or wrenched apart and bludgeoned, had tomatoes thrown, or urine tipped over your heads publicly, how indeed would you feel? If you comitted suicide, and this wasn't horrible enough, but your memory was then smeared by those left behind simply because hating is encouraged - would you recognise it as agony? If this happened to that friend you were just sending a message to on Facebook, or your mum or dad, brother or sister, what then?
As this is written, individuals and couples alike are being beaten, kidnapped, raped, and publicly humilated just for being themselves. In some cases, these actions are being filmed and distributed online. The Russian government has ratified it, and this ignorant, backward mindset backed by law gives people an excuse to carry it out, essentially free from judgement and reprehension.
I personally fail to see how I, walking down the street holding hands with the one I love, differs in any way from you, walking down the street holding the hands of the one you love. Or them, walking down the street with someone they love. I fail to understand how my life is 'wrong' because I like green instead of blue.
If your argument is that I am an abomination in the eyes of God, I would respond that I, as well as you and all things wild and wonderful, are His creations, and he is supposed to "love them all". Is a message of compassion and tolerance not what the Church is for? What else it is meant to propagate?
If you side with hate because you feel it's wrong or uncomfortable, I encourage you to step outside your comfort zone, and see that love is just love. Blind, deaf, and as simple as you or I - which is to say, complex to the extreme. It can only be understood by experiencing it, and we all should go out of our way to do so. But it is never something to be judged, or hated, even though at times jealousy or personal lack leads some to do so.
I am overwhelmed with disappointment for the leaders of Russia - and pained to think of its citizens, but I feel more than ever that it is time to voice out in whatever way I can, because I am - quite honestly - getting tired of being disappointed, and tired of hearing of the repercussions of one power-obsessed bigot's choices.
Hate has never done one useful thing for humanity. We are capable of so much more, and it shows when we come together that incredible things can be accomplished. It shows equally, what disasters lie in misguidance. Haven't we learnt enough from the past yet? How many times must we repeat things just to become a better civilisation? The world is now making some huge bounds forward in terms of rights, but every now and then, someone stumbles and staggers that process. In today's world, this kind of hate is one such stumble, and it should not exist. It's time for us to start working together, and realising that we are all born on this planet together, and that in this one life of ours we can do something wonderful - or we will repeat these problems over, and over, and over.
Stephen Fry, Nick Symmonds, celebrities and media worldwide are condemning Russia's behaviour right now, and I ride wholeheartedly with them. I don't speak out about many things, but this ridiculousness must stop.
The winter Olympic Games are once again approaching, and to host them, Russia will have to do so much better. At current I boycott them entirely - on the ground of blatant hypocracy: Russia's government is spreading unfairness, discrimination and ignorance instead of the values of which those very games stand for, and it would be a mockery to watch them under such circumstances.
Last week a petition which I, along with 330,000 others signed was delivered to the IOC headquarters in Switzerland, and it got attention. But this should just be the beginning. Much more needs to be done to show Putin that his behaviour right now is unacceptable.
Sometimes all it takes to show family, friends, leaders, goverments or countries which is the correct path, is the voice of a few. Perhaps this issue will summon the voice of many.
I can't stress enough how much I want this effort to succeed.
Jimzip
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Art: Puffin
He's waddly, he's curious, and he's definitely not from your neighbourhood ... feels like the new tagline for some new terrifying Eddie Murphy film.
But no! It's a little puffin, just waddlin' over to say hi. Far less terrifying than Eddie Murphy, and definitely less willing to convert you to Scientology.
I like how this one turned out. I think it would also look cool on a t-shirt. ;)
Readers from back in the day will recall I used to post backgrounds every now and then. Well, there are some new backgrounds coming soon too. But for now, enjoy.
Vi ses sen!
Jimzip :D
But no! It's a little puffin, just waddlin' over to say hi. Far less terrifying than Eddie Murphy, and definitely less willing to convert you to Scientology.
I like how this one turned out. I think it would also look cool on a t-shirt. ;)
Readers from back in the day will recall I used to post backgrounds every now and then. Well, there are some new backgrounds coming soon too. But for now, enjoy.
Vi ses sen!
Jimzip :D
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Art: Racoon
It's not the most creative source, given, but google is regardless a great source of inspiration, especially when it comes to image search. It's so easy just to plug an animal in and get sketching.
Running with the current illustration bang, I've gone ahead and made another. This one took around two hours.
It's a rather guilty looking raccoon looking like it's really sorry it just ate all those berries from your garden.
Plus à venir. Enjoy.
Jimzip :D
Running with the current illustration bang, I've gone ahead and made another. This one took around two hours.
It's a rather guilty looking raccoon looking like it's really sorry it just ate all those berries from your garden.
Plus à venir. Enjoy.
Jimzip :D
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Art: Owly
Recently I've been attempting to kickstart my artistic hemisphere once again. Not that I feel it was ever truly inactive, I've been using it in different ways, writing, coding and drilling into my graphic design, but I haven't sketched or painted in a long time, and I missed that.
One good step forward was buying myself a wacom tablet a few months ago. I absolutely love it. In fact, I'm disappointed I didn't buy one years ago. (Note: I did actually, but at the time I felt so guilty for spending what should have gone towards rent that I returned it).
My technique is sloppy, and it's still definitely developing, but I feel I'm beginning to see a style come through, and I wanted to share a couple of pieces on this blog now which the tablet has enabled.
This one is a tribute to my old workplace in Vancouver: Owly from Hootsuite.
More to come. Enjoy.
Jimzip :D
One good step forward was buying myself a wacom tablet a few months ago. I absolutely love it. In fact, I'm disappointed I didn't buy one years ago. (Note: I did actually, but at the time I felt so guilty for spending what should have gone towards rent that I returned it).
My technique is sloppy, and it's still definitely developing, but I feel I'm beginning to see a style come through, and I wanted to share a couple of pieces on this blog now which the tablet has enabled.
This one is a tribute to my old workplace in Vancouver: Owly from Hootsuite.
More to come. Enjoy.
Jimzip :D
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Idiomatic Indignation!
I have enemies. Yes, of course, just like anyone does. Nowdays though, they come in different forms. No longer the type to dissolve into shadows after a thwarted attempt to barrage our sun with anti-matter beams (the last case of which wasted an entire Tuesday night better spent on Lost). Now they are more phonetic.
One particular hurdle I still face daily in German has been colloquial speech, or more idiomatically; the idiosyncrasies of idioms. Sayings and expressions are often impossible to translate directly from English, and very difficult to decode from other languages when you hear them.
I encountered one less troublesome example today, the expression: I've got my fingers crossed for you. Again, translating from English to German would just come across as confusing to a German speaker (in most cases Germans have a good enough understanding of English to know what you're getting at though). In German however, one says I'm holding my thumbs for you.
By chance, this is a Swedish saying as well, so the first time I heard it I was spared too much pondering.
Then came this one, which I heard yesterday in response to something I said: 'well, it comes on it'.
My eyebrows instantly cocked to an alarming angle. My mind spun through possible meanings, but the conversation halted. Why? Let's break it down. What I heard was: es kommt darauf an (in English literally: it comes on it). What it actually means is: it depends. At the time, this to me was indecipherable.
Another brilliant yet equally indecipherable phrase is: einen hinter die Binde kippen lit. tilt one behind the bandage. This is is actually slang for: grab a drink.
To add to the confusion, I've noticed that very often sayings will use different animals in each language.
For example, wie ein Elefant im Porzellanladen, literally like an elephant in a porcelain store is to most English speakers like a bull in a china store. But this one is rather simple to work out. So, what about a personal favourite of mine then: da liegt der Hase in Pfeffer? This is literally there lies the hare in pepper, and means there's a fly in the ointment or that's the crux of it.
Another with the rabbit is sehen wie der Hase läuft, lit. to see see how the rabbit runs, or to English speakers, we'll see which way the cat jumps.
Our elephant example shoes that of course, sometimes there are similarities. Wie Mottem ums Licht means lit. like moths around a light but is more commonly heard as like a moth to a flame.
Here's a saying that doesn't really have a clear equivalent however: da liegt der Hund begraben. Literally, it means: there lies the buried dog. Any guesses as to what it means? It's a bit of a roundabout way of saying: that's the point [of the matter]. It can also be used to say: nothing is going on [there]. Either way, I certainly wouldn't consider it very clear.
Edit: Milla from Värmland has kindly pointed out that the same phrase in Swedish, här ligger en hund begraven means there's something fishy going on [here]. Note the dog in Swedish and fish in English, agreeing with that animal theory again! (The meaning between German and Swedish is however, curiously skewed).
And finally, there's just plain strange ones, like: wie der Ochse vorm Berg, lit. like the ox in front of the mountain. In English, it actually means: like a dying duck in a thunderstorm.
Nope. I've never heard that one either.
Jimzip :D
One particular hurdle I still face daily in German has been colloquial speech, or more idiomatically; the idiosyncrasies of idioms. Sayings and expressions are often impossible to translate directly from English, and very difficult to decode from other languages when you hear them.
I encountered one less troublesome example today, the expression: I've got my fingers crossed for you. Again, translating from English to German would just come across as confusing to a German speaker (in most cases Germans have a good enough understanding of English to know what you're getting at though). In German however, one says I'm holding my thumbs for you.
By chance, this is a Swedish saying as well, so the first time I heard it I was spared too much pondering.
Then came this one, which I heard yesterday in response to something I said: 'well, it comes on it'.
My eyebrows instantly cocked to an alarming angle. My mind spun through possible meanings, but the conversation halted. Why? Let's break it down. What I heard was: es kommt darauf an (in English literally: it comes on it). What it actually means is: it depends. At the time, this to me was indecipherable.
Another brilliant yet equally indecipherable phrase is: einen hinter die Binde kippen lit. tilt one behind the bandage. This is is actually slang for: grab a drink.
To add to the confusion, I've noticed that very often sayings will use different animals in each language.
For example, wie ein Elefant im Porzellanladen, literally like an elephant in a porcelain store is to most English speakers like a bull in a china store. But this one is rather simple to work out. So, what about a personal favourite of mine then: da liegt der Hase in Pfeffer? This is literally there lies the hare in pepper, and means there's a fly in the ointment or that's the crux of it.
Another with the rabbit is sehen wie der Hase läuft, lit. to see see how the rabbit runs, or to English speakers, we'll see which way the cat jumps.
Our elephant example shoes that of course, sometimes there are similarities. Wie Mottem ums Licht means lit. like moths around a light but is more commonly heard as like a moth to a flame.
Here's a saying that doesn't really have a clear equivalent however: da liegt der Hund begraben. Literally, it means: there lies the buried dog. Any guesses as to what it means? It's a bit of a roundabout way of saying: that's the point [of the matter]. It can also be used to say: nothing is going on [there]. Either way, I certainly wouldn't consider it very clear.
Edit: Milla from Värmland has kindly pointed out that the same phrase in Swedish, här ligger en hund begraven means there's something fishy going on [here]. Note the dog in Swedish and fish in English, agreeing with that animal theory again! (The meaning between German and Swedish is however, curiously skewed).
And finally, there's just plain strange ones, like: wie der Ochse vorm Berg, lit. like the ox in front of the mountain. In English, it actually means: like a dying duck in a thunderstorm.
Nope. I've never heard that one either.
Jimzip :D
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Ye Olde Jimzip.com Update
Not keen to sit twiddling my thumbs and making fimo jungle creatures as I waited for a piece of paper, I started working as a freelance graphic designer before I finished university in 2005.
Needless to say, jobs did not come easy, and to be certain my work was not (at all) great. But one fascinating aspect of ... well brains, is that you tend to learn very quickly at the beginning of any new enterprise, and I did.
The field changed dramatically within those few years. I remember very clearly the first time I attempted to code something, sitting in the unused dining-room of our family home, using dial-up internet on a laptop with a 600x800 screen to find out how to write HTML. The first website I ever coded was a page for an imaginary persona who went by the name Blue Cube. It ended up being a single image floating in the middle of the page, the text was embedded inside said image however, and thus was not really a webpage - but it felt like a small victory.
Back then, tables were in fashion, and CSS was a mere pipe-dream, yet within a couple of years the whole game had completely changed - and of course it continues to change. So too, does my style and skillset. I feel that almost everything I do is completely different to back then. Of course it should though - it's been 10 years, so if something hadn't changed I'd be a little worried! Yet here we are, 2013, and thus I feel it's time once again to update my ever-changing portfolio, bio and online home.
For the sake of nostalgia you'll also find a link to the past version of jimzip.com. Because some things are just too fun to say goodbye to! (Super, nó?) Go check it out, please tell me what you think in the comments, and thanks for looking.
{ Jimzip.com }
Jimzip :D
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
The Tip Grotto: Part 2
"Oh, praise Jehoshaphat! He didn't leave us in the lurch", I hear you cry. No, of course not. That would be cruel and unsatisfying for both of us.
We're back with part two of the Tip Grotto (read part one here), a tasty collection of little bites I've found helpful on my language journeys. If you have anything you'd like to add, please drop it into the comments - I do love hearing how other people learn and the interesting/effective/zany/unorthodox(?) methods they come across.
Let's dive straight back in shall we?
- Repetition -
Flat repetition is not the best way to learn. How can I say that so plainly? Well, there are many, many studies currently trying to figure out the nature of repetition in relation to memory, but for me there was one convincing key point. Namely, I found the more I stared at (or listened to) a sentence and repeated it, the less effectively it stuck in my head. What tends to work much better is controlling that repetition, and more specifically: spacing it (1).
One way to do it, is to read a sentence, speak it out loud, then move to the next. After trying the second sentence out, cover the first and try and remember it. I must impress here the 'speak out loud' part, (as whispering or mouthing things won't get you used to the sound, and it's surprising how that can trip you up later).
Work your way down the list then, adding another sentence or word to the queue each time. 'Spaced repetition' as it's known, is worthwhile getting to know, because it works. It's the same methodology behind well-organised flash cards.
When your brain shuts down, let it shut down. By this I mean, everyone reaches a threshold at which point they stop thinking, it just happens. Don't freak out, just take a break. Stand up and shake, go for a small walk, or get a glass of water - then return and smack out round two. If you really can't concentrate and keep reading the same thing over and over, or feel nothing is sinking in, it's probably a sign that you're done for the day. Don't fight it, just leave with what you've learnt so far that day and take it on again the next.
Strangely, for me (and I've timed this) it takes on average 17 minutes for me to start thinking properly during a study session, so if you find yourself foggy at the beginning of your session, don't give up, keep at it a little while and your brain should kick into gear.
Oh my. It's easy to do, but don't cheat! You have a very powerful brain in that head of yours ... and it's just waiting to be taken for a spin. If you are using flash cards, and you find it easier to flip over to the answer before you think it out, then you're robbing yourself of the chance to absorb new information - innit? Your brain wants to remember things, so give it a chance! If after a short while you really can't remember something and thinking it out isn't working, then is the time to go have a look at the answer. But first, take a stab! Say what you think the answer is out loud, then check. There is no penalty for being wrong, and in fact being wrong can help in remembering that particular sentence. Realising your mistakes often works wonders for retention.
No matter the case, if you can find a method that works for you, then it will make your language journey much more bearable. Remember too that everyone is different, nobody can tell you how to learn, it's your own process, and you have to have fun with it! If you want to take classes, go for it. If you're like me and prefer working alone, well ... still go for it! You've nothing to lose and only new friends and stories to gain.
If you have any questions, pop them in the comments too, and I'll do my best to help out. I hope you find some of these tips helpful!
Jimzip
(1) Spaced repetition is an artform indeed. Here's a wikipedia article on it. Notice that they used Anki as the header image!
We're back with part two of the Tip Grotto (read part one here), a tasty collection of little bites I've found helpful on my language journeys. If you have anything you'd like to add, please drop it into the comments - I do love hearing how other people learn and the interesting/effective/zany/unorthodox(?) methods they come across.
Let's dive straight back in shall we?
- Repetition -
Flat repetition is not the best way to learn. How can I say that so plainly? Well, there are many, many studies currently trying to figure out the nature of repetition in relation to memory, but for me there was one convincing key point. Namely, I found the more I stared at (or listened to) a sentence and repeated it, the less effectively it stuck in my head. What tends to work much better is controlling that repetition, and more specifically: spacing it (1).
One way to do it, is to read a sentence, speak it out loud, then move to the next. After trying the second sentence out, cover the first and try and remember it. I must impress here the 'speak out loud' part, (as whispering or mouthing things won't get you used to the sound, and it's surprising how that can trip you up later).
Work your way down the list then, adding another sentence or word to the queue each time. 'Spaced repetition' as it's known, is worthwhile getting to know, because it works. It's the same methodology behind well-organised flash cards.
- Give It A Rest -
When your brain shuts down, let it shut down. By this I mean, everyone reaches a threshold at which point they stop thinking, it just happens. Don't freak out, just take a break. Stand up and shake, go for a small walk, or get a glass of water - then return and smack out round two. If you really can't concentrate and keep reading the same thing over and over, or feel nothing is sinking in, it's probably a sign that you're done for the day. Don't fight it, just leave with what you've learnt so far that day and take it on again the next.
Strangely, for me (and I've timed this) it takes on average 17 minutes for me to start thinking properly during a study session, so if you find yourself foggy at the beginning of your session, don't give up, keep at it a little while and your brain should kick into gear.
- Don't Try And Trick Mr. Brain -
Oh my. It's easy to do, but don't cheat! You have a very powerful brain in that head of yours ... and it's just waiting to be taken for a spin. If you are using flash cards, and you find it easier to flip over to the answer before you think it out, then you're robbing yourself of the chance to absorb new information - innit? Your brain wants to remember things, so give it a chance! If after a short while you really can't remember something and thinking it out isn't working, then is the time to go have a look at the answer. But first, take a stab! Say what you think the answer is out loud, then check. There is no penalty for being wrong, and in fact being wrong can help in remembering that particular sentence. Realising your mistakes often works wonders for retention.
- ◊ -
No matter the case, if you can find a method that works for you, then it will make your language journey much more bearable. Remember too that everyone is different, nobody can tell you how to learn, it's your own process, and you have to have fun with it! If you want to take classes, go for it. If you're like me and prefer working alone, well ... still go for it! You've nothing to lose and only new friends and stories to gain.
If you have any questions, pop them in the comments too, and I'll do my best to help out. I hope you find some of these tips helpful!
Jimzip
(1) Spaced repetition is an artform indeed. Here's a wikipedia article on it. Notice that they used Anki as the header image!
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Poetry Under the Moonlight
Two things I must admit; I'm not much of a fan of poetry, and I don't like Shakespeare.
Now that you've returned from writing me angry emails, I must say that despite my dislike of these two 'genres', I can still be lured in every once in a while by something excellent. There are of course passages in Shakespeare works that really do catch my attention, and though many people that know me will attest to my frequent rants involving the words 'Seamus Heaney' and 'bollocks', sometimes poetry can strike me. His works for example, are frequently beautiful and very visual, but to me, the only difference between 'short story' and 'poetry' is that the latter has rudely cracked sentences into a jumbled pile of imporoperly capitalised words.
I was surprised yesterday evening then, when I experienced something that gave me a subtle appreciation for poetry when it is read aloud. Perhaps it was the beer, which I don't usually drink, or the scene itself: two strangers, two berliner friends, and myself standing in a ring on the sidewalk after a pleasant evening of karaoke and under the clear, starry sky - but while chatting away to my comrades we were approached by a young man, his shaggy hair and attire befitting of his opening line.
"Hi guys, I'm a poet. Can I recite something of mine to you all?"
Though one of our party was too drunk to realise what was happening and turned away, the rest of us agreed. And so the recitation began.
Again, I must stress the cynic in me towards poetry here, but before I noticed it, in fact within two lines, this young poet somehow managed to do something amazing. He not only recited his work with the emotion and conviction of an artist, but he actually inspired me. No, I'm not going to go and start writing poetry. I still think it's the dung-encrusted sole on the foot of literature, but what I experienced was something highly romanticised. In my head, it conjured imagery of what I imagine many european cities may have been like at the turn of the last century. Some hidden, creative heart beating under the cobblestones by night. Passionate, talented young artists so excited by their work that they want to share it with anyone who will listen, even if that means meeting strangers on the streets under the moonlight to do so.
Now, given that he himself was so drunk that the poem dropped off half way through, I can't say that the ending was excellent, but this fellow put himself on the line and even though he failed in one way, he has no idea how successful he was in another. His story was nothing new; it was the same old garp about a woman loved and lost - but instead, what I saw was his love of words, and this I found far more interesting. It wasn't the subject, but the presentation - his excitement in sharing what he had created, that came across. He played with imagery, and sound, and subtlety, and used the garp story to create something far more alluring, and he loved every second of it.
To me, this small moment added something to Berlin, another angle that was really exciting and interesting, and I realised later that perhaps to truly inspire others, the subject is almost irrelevant - all one really needs to do is be passionate enough.
Jimzip
Now that you've returned from writing me angry emails, I must say that despite my dislike of these two 'genres', I can still be lured in every once in a while by something excellent. There are of course passages in Shakespeare works that really do catch my attention, and though many people that know me will attest to my frequent rants involving the words 'Seamus Heaney' and 'bollocks', sometimes poetry can strike me. His works for example, are frequently beautiful and very visual, but to me, the only difference between 'short story' and 'poetry' is that the latter has rudely cracked sentences into a jumbled pile of imporoperly capitalised words.
I was surprised yesterday evening then, when I experienced something that gave me a subtle appreciation for poetry when it is read aloud. Perhaps it was the beer, which I don't usually drink, or the scene itself: two strangers, two berliner friends, and myself standing in a ring on the sidewalk after a pleasant evening of karaoke and under the clear, starry sky - but while chatting away to my comrades we were approached by a young man, his shaggy hair and attire befitting of his opening line.
"Hi guys, I'm a poet. Can I recite something of mine to you all?"
Though one of our party was too drunk to realise what was happening and turned away, the rest of us agreed. And so the recitation began.
Again, I must stress the cynic in me towards poetry here, but before I noticed it, in fact within two lines, this young poet somehow managed to do something amazing. He not only recited his work with the emotion and conviction of an artist, but he actually inspired me. No, I'm not going to go and start writing poetry. I still think it's the dung-encrusted sole on the foot of literature, but what I experienced was something highly romanticised. In my head, it conjured imagery of what I imagine many european cities may have been like at the turn of the last century. Some hidden, creative heart beating under the cobblestones by night. Passionate, talented young artists so excited by their work that they want to share it with anyone who will listen, even if that means meeting strangers on the streets under the moonlight to do so.
Now, given that he himself was so drunk that the poem dropped off half way through, I can't say that the ending was excellent, but this fellow put himself on the line and even though he failed in one way, he has no idea how successful he was in another. His story was nothing new; it was the same old garp about a woman loved and lost - but instead, what I saw was his love of words, and this I found far more interesting. It wasn't the subject, but the presentation - his excitement in sharing what he had created, that came across. He played with imagery, and sound, and subtlety, and used the garp story to create something far more alluring, and he loved every second of it.
To me, this small moment added something to Berlin, another angle that was really exciting and interesting, and I realised later that perhaps to truly inspire others, the subject is almost irrelevant - all one really needs to do is be passionate enough.
Jimzip
Monday, March 11, 2013
The Tip Grotto: Part 1
Languages can often be incredibly frustrating. For many of us adult-learners, it is after all as if we're returning to childhood, making mistakes, sometimes embarassing ourselves, and other times remaining awkward and speechless. "If only there were someone out there who knew my pain, and could provide some pretty helpful tips to ease this cumbersome, yet self-inflicted process!", you cry...
Well, few things in life are as challenging as changing your way of thinking, and purposefully placing yourself in such a helpless situation - especially for that timespan in which you feel you're making no progress. Page after page goes by, audio courses get boring, and software is used, but still the struggle goes on to say even simplest thing in conversation. Then, a ta-da moment. Suddenly you speak to someone and something clicks. Even a mere sentence here, or phrase there is a great confidence builder, and motivation returns. Wouldn't it be fab to have them all the time?
Now, I'm no teacher - but it's nice to share what one finds helpful. So, in that vein I've pulled together some notes that have really helped me in my own language adventures, and though you may know some of them already, give them a gander and maybe you'll find something new. This is part 1 of The Tip Grotto:
This (ironically) took me a while to understand, but learning a language is akin to training at the gym, or learning a song, or writing a book. It is long, difficult work, and you seldom see any noticeable result. My advice to anyone taking a stab at a new tongue is the same advice people give when you're learning anything; keep at it. Attack from different angles, and suddenly you'll realise you know more than you thought. Hey, you already know one language (sometimes two if you're lucky...), so there's no reason you can't do it again right? A little bit each day will do it. Give it time. Don't give it rest. Grrr.
Personalisation is powerful. It creates a very strong cognitive coupling and keeps things interesting, which in turn makes learning more effective.
What do I mean here? Well ... you're the painter, but for example; a friend of mine uses coloured pens with which he writes new vocabulary, each colour matching the word's gender. Similarly, I use post-it notes and write sentences on them, then stick them in weird places around the house. You could keep a 'learning journal' or replace lines of your favourite songs with phrases in the target language. Here in this image, I've written two words to teach myself how the punctuation marks in Spanish work.
Sidenote: Writing things down is very very helpful, just the act of penning a sentence seems to somewhat magically increase retention. It isn't the be-all-and-end-all of course, you still have to peek at them to get them into the folds of that big brain of yours, but it makes it that much easier (1).
Watch out for false promises. Claims of 'Master German in 1 Hour!' and so on are just not possible, and they lead to disappointment. Having said that (and somewhat ironically), realising that it isn't true makes these courses more effective sometimes. The logic here? Well, once you subconsciously admit that you know they're lying, you tend to approach the material differently and with a different mindset. Knowing it won't take 1 hour to master german lets you throw that expectation out, and learn without pressure, for example.
If you do purchase or come by such a course, note that there is often value in them, but you'll have to do some 'transmuting' of information to get the most from it. For example; many courses just throw hundreds of phrases at you. There's no way to effectively absorb this information without doing something else with it. Pop them on flash cards, or take out key words or vocab and you'll probably find it's much more effective.
This is one of the most important things. The late Michel Thomas, Polish polyglot and in general just a very cool gent, noted frequently that 'stress is an inhibitor to learning' - and as far as I am concerned, he was absoutely right. Languages are particularly daunting, but don't stress! Smile, breathe, and learn in a calm place where you can focus. As before, make it fun and relaxing for yourself in any way you can. Try not to work with the tv or music on too, it really messes with your head and sucks concentration out (interestingly, one type music said to help and possibly improve concentration is classical baroque). The key here, relax, and enjoy the process. You are making progress whether you notice it or not, be proud of that!
A short tangent here; I am (admittedly) a culprit of the deep sigh. Many times, when I come across a new concept I just can't get my head around, I tend to make some kind of animalistic noise and pray for a divine, Lyra Bellaqua-esque boon to come across my brain (this only happened once, and if you missed my infallible performance of Rachmaninov, then shame on you...). But learning to love these moments is possible. With a moment of oblique thinking, problems become games, and who doesn't like games?
I suppose my closing point here is that the challenges that accompany langauges are numerous, but as many have proved, it is of course totally within your reach! I hope some of these tips have been helpful, good luck to you, and please post any questions and comments below.
Stay tuned for part 2.
Jimzip
(1) There's a great program called Anki which I find invaluable, it's flash cards done right, designed with proper time-based recall and a great mobile app. It's pricey (iPhone/Android version $25) but worth it if you are serious. The app for Mac/PC is free,and super powerful.
Well, few things in life are as challenging as changing your way of thinking, and purposefully placing yourself in such a helpless situation - especially for that timespan in which you feel you're making no progress. Page after page goes by, audio courses get boring, and software is used, but still the struggle goes on to say even simplest thing in conversation. Then, a ta-da moment. Suddenly you speak to someone and something clicks. Even a mere sentence here, or phrase there is a great confidence builder, and motivation returns. Wouldn't it be fab to have them all the time?
Now, I'm no teacher - but it's nice to share what one finds helpful. So, in that vein I've pulled together some notes that have really helped me in my own language adventures, and though you may know some of them already, give them a gander and maybe you'll find something new. This is part 1 of The Tip Grotto:
- ◊ -
- Patience Is A Virtue -
This (ironically) took me a while to understand, but learning a language is akin to training at the gym, or learning a song, or writing a book. It is long, difficult work, and you seldom see any noticeable result. My advice to anyone taking a stab at a new tongue is the same advice people give when you're learning anything; keep at it. Attack from different angles, and suddenly you'll realise you know more than you thought. Hey, you already know one language (sometimes two if you're lucky...), so there's no reason you can't do it again right? A little bit each day will do it. Give it time. Don't give it rest. Grrr.
- Make It Yours -
Personalisation is powerful. It creates a very strong cognitive coupling and keeps things interesting, which in turn makes learning more effective.
What do I mean here? Well ... you're the painter, but for example; a friend of mine uses coloured pens with which he writes new vocabulary, each colour matching the word's gender. Similarly, I use post-it notes and write sentences on them, then stick them in weird places around the house. You could keep a 'learning journal' or replace lines of your favourite songs with phrases in the target language. Here in this image, I've written two words to teach myself how the punctuation marks in Spanish work.Sidenote: Writing things down is very very helpful, just the act of penning a sentence seems to somewhat magically increase retention. It isn't the be-all-and-end-all of course, you still have to peek at them to get them into the folds of that big brain of yours, but it makes it that much easier (1).
- Choose Your Poison, Carefully -
Watch out for false promises. Claims of 'Master German in 1 Hour!' and so on are just not possible, and they lead to disappointment. Having said that (and somewhat ironically), realising that it isn't true makes these courses more effective sometimes. The logic here? Well, once you subconsciously admit that you know they're lying, you tend to approach the material differently and with a different mindset. Knowing it won't take 1 hour to master german lets you throw that expectation out, and learn without pressure, for example.
If you do purchase or come by such a course, note that there is often value in them, but you'll have to do some 'transmuting' of information to get the most from it. For example; many courses just throw hundreds of phrases at you. There's no way to effectively absorb this information without doing something else with it. Pop them on flash cards, or take out key words or vocab and you'll probably find it's much more effective.
- Be Cool, Soda Pop -
This is one of the most important things. The late Michel Thomas, Polish polyglot and in general just a very cool gent, noted frequently that 'stress is an inhibitor to learning' - and as far as I am concerned, he was absoutely right. Languages are particularly daunting, but don't stress! Smile, breathe, and learn in a calm place where you can focus. As before, make it fun and relaxing for yourself in any way you can. Try not to work with the tv or music on too, it really messes with your head and sucks concentration out (interestingly, one type music said to help and possibly improve concentration is classical baroque). The key here, relax, and enjoy the process. You are making progress whether you notice it or not, be proud of that!
- ◊ -
A short tangent here; I am (admittedly) a culprit of the deep sigh. Many times, when I come across a new concept I just can't get my head around, I tend to make some kind of animalistic noise and pray for a divine, Lyra Bellaqua-esque boon to come across my brain (this only happened once, and if you missed my infallible performance of Rachmaninov, then shame on you...). But learning to love these moments is possible. With a moment of oblique thinking, problems become games, and who doesn't like games?
I suppose my closing point here is that the challenges that accompany langauges are numerous, but as many have proved, it is of course totally within your reach! I hope some of these tips have been helpful, good luck to you, and please post any questions and comments below.
Stay tuned for part 2.
Jimzip
(1) There's a great program called Anki which I find invaluable, it's flash cards done right, designed with proper time-based recall and a great mobile app. It's pricey (iPhone/Android version $25) but worth it if you are serious. The app for Mac/PC is free,and super powerful.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Thefty Monsters & Freedom
To me, the theft of my bike last week was as a deathknell of sorts - at least to my stint in Vancouver. It gave me an odd sense of closure to a few stressful months back in the city I came to know so well. Being there slap in the middle of winter did not help the post-theft downer much either.
I often remark that no matter where I am in the world, my three most important possessions (other than essentials like wallet and clothing) are without doubt my laptop, my camera and my bike. In particular, it is because these three items give me what I consider almost total freedom. They allow me to be spontaneous, and they let me stay professionally, creatively and physically active wherever I end up, and that is something I value greatly.
Despite what you'll often hear, it is amazingly liberating to have no car. I have continuously been told throughout my life how useful a licence would be, and how much I would love the freedom a car provides. True, possibly. Yet in an ironic twiddle, I actually feel that I have been able to do things and reach places no driver can without one. I'm certain that I have traveled and explored places more intimately by bike and on foot than I ever could have in a vehicle. The ability to swing down a sidestreet or through a park, to swerve onto the sidewalk, lock it up wherever you feel works, or hop off a any moment is truly a great feeling. With a backpack and a bottle of water on hand, I guess it's just a question of which street to pick today. Also it's cheap.
When my bike disappeared therefore, I felt like I had been slapped. It was something of a rude reminder that in the city with such incredible beauty and such great people, there is ever that undercurrent of something lurking just underneath the veneer. Having gone through multiple thefts here (some by my own design, but most just plain bad luck) I wasn't really too perturbed. In truth, the reaction when I came upon the vacant spot in the bike rack was closer to a short, accepting nod of the head and 'huh' than shock.
Despite having most of my possessions re-distributed among the city's lesser-fortunate though, I must say I certainly still love Vancouver. Some of my best friends are here, and I hope to return often - but perhaps next time I'll just come back in the summer ... the sun, sea, and fun are enough to tear any unpleasantness far into the horizon.
For now, a ticket is booked for me back to Europe, and Berlin, where a new bike and more exploring awaits.
Jimzip
I often remark that no matter where I am in the world, my three most important possessions (other than essentials like wallet and clothing) are without doubt my laptop, my camera and my bike. In particular, it is because these three items give me what I consider almost total freedom. They allow me to be spontaneous, and they let me stay professionally, creatively and physically active wherever I end up, and that is something I value greatly.
Despite what you'll often hear, it is amazingly liberating to have no car. I have continuously been told throughout my life how useful a licence would be, and how much I would love the freedom a car provides. True, possibly. Yet in an ironic twiddle, I actually feel that I have been able to do things and reach places no driver can without one. I'm certain that I have traveled and explored places more intimately by bike and on foot than I ever could have in a vehicle. The ability to swing down a sidestreet or through a park, to swerve onto the sidewalk, lock it up wherever you feel works, or hop off a any moment is truly a great feeling. With a backpack and a bottle of water on hand, I guess it's just a question of which street to pick today. Also it's cheap.
When my bike disappeared therefore, I felt like I had been slapped. It was something of a rude reminder that in the city with such incredible beauty and such great people, there is ever that undercurrent of something lurking just underneath the veneer. Having gone through multiple thefts here (some by my own design, but most just plain bad luck) I wasn't really too perturbed. In truth, the reaction when I came upon the vacant spot in the bike rack was closer to a short, accepting nod of the head and 'huh' than shock.
Despite having most of my possessions re-distributed among the city's lesser-fortunate though, I must say I certainly still love Vancouver. Some of my best friends are here, and I hope to return often - but perhaps next time I'll just come back in the summer ... the sun, sea, and fun are enough to tear any unpleasantness far into the horizon.
For now, a ticket is booked for me back to Europe, and Berlin, where a new bike and more exploring awaits.
Jimzip
Monday, September 10, 2012
Characters. Roaming.
A favourite quote of mine came from an american author; "for me, really, the written word is always stronger than film", and though I'm useless against the wash of a great cinematic score, I must say I agree.
One of the most fascinating things about writing is that, with these little characters you see before you now, images, thoughts and emotions can be evoked so strongly that perhaps one could actually be moved to tears by the death of a character, or laugh aloud at an amusing utterance from another. It's somewhat bizarre that we create such a natural link to these tiny dots and lines, so much so that often, it's as if we're hearing a voice narrate them in our heads. Yet perhaps this link between text and thought is natural after all. People have used sketches and symbols to communicate as long as we've been around. It's as if writing is the third part, the missing link, or the yong that the ying and yang of speech and gesture simply can't live without.
I used to scoff quietly at authors who explained how characters 'live inside their heads', but like a convert to vegemite (yes, they're rare), I now understand what they were saying. All this information needs to exist somewhere first before hitting the stone, or paper, or stylus, and in the mind of the creator is the most pure form it can take.
In the story I'm working on, Merius, the main character, took a while to develop. I would have one idea for him, then another. His appearance changed a little, his mannerisms changed a lot. This is simply the process you go through when writing. Then like reverse-footage of a chocolate statue coming out of a cooking pot - they solidified, and Merius seemingly became someone I actually know in my head.
Perhaps this weird sensation is because as a writer, you spend so much darned time with the character that eventually your mind is tricked into thinking they exist. Perhaps it's aliens. But regardless, it is great fun writing him.
There are some moments which, in many stories I read have been left out, the appreciation of something simple, or that night alone reading a book in your duvet, and I feel these are important. They're realistic - and though sometimes admittedly a little dry for the reader - they give Merius a texture which I think secretly we all appreciate.
As well as this, there are interesting traits that I've never given a character before, but that I think have been really challenging to deal with. His experiences outside his tightly-controlled home for example, are an oddity. For us things like a cobblestone street may be mildly interesting, but certainly not awe-worthy. But for Merius every little thing that lies outside the Castellum is totally new, and it's been tough to understate his wonderment and make his discoveries bearable for the reader, who is already more than familiar with these things, while still conveying his excitement and interest.
His feelings for Allion, Derek and Arliane (in Part 2 particularly) would be still another. Merius has never had true friends aside from his fellow Adherent, Trevars. The concept of a relationship is completely foreign to the Castellum inhabitants, so for these people to fall into Merius' life is a foreign concept for him.
Because of all this, I find it fascinating to develop these moments. For some reason I find it really endearing to watch this character learn about his own interests from a distance - despite my supposedly dictating his every move. Instead, this is where the character for me is very much alive and doing his own thing in my head. I'm simply picking and choosing the parts I want to share.
Fascinating, maybe, but admittedly it's also quite hard to manage. I am acutely aware that I'm not just overloading the character, but the reader also, and I'm always aware that readers may get switched off by the amount of information I'm trying to pass over. So, I have to be a little careful. My goal is obviously to keep it interesting and balance these moments out. I think then the payoff for the reader will be worth it, especially once some of the puzzles begin to get resolved. In short, I know it's important to have a good balance of intrigue and explanation, and hopefully readers will find this when they dive in.
I'm so excited to be working on this book. Once you make a decision to commit to something like this, failure or success, it's a great experience - and merely going through the motions and finding my style as a writer has been fun, no matter the outcome.
Jimzip
One of the most fascinating things about writing is that, with these little characters you see before you now, images, thoughts and emotions can be evoked so strongly that perhaps one could actually be moved to tears by the death of a character, or laugh aloud at an amusing utterance from another. It's somewhat bizarre that we create such a natural link to these tiny dots and lines, so much so that often, it's as if we're hearing a voice narrate them in our heads. Yet perhaps this link between text and thought is natural after all. People have used sketches and symbols to communicate as long as we've been around. It's as if writing is the third part, the missing link, or the yong that the ying and yang of speech and gesture simply can't live without.
Perhaps this weird sensation is because as a writer, you spend so much darned time with the character that eventually your mind is tricked into thinking they exist. Perhaps it's aliens. But regardless, it is great fun writing him.
There are some moments which, in many stories I read have been left out, the appreciation of something simple, or that night alone reading a book in your duvet, and I feel these are important. They're realistic - and though sometimes admittedly a little dry for the reader - they give Merius a texture which I think secretly we all appreciate.
As well as this, there are interesting traits that I've never given a character before, but that I think have been really challenging to deal with. His experiences outside his tightly-controlled home for example, are an oddity. For us things like a cobblestone street may be mildly interesting, but certainly not awe-worthy. But for Merius every little thing that lies outside the Castellum is totally new, and it's been tough to understate his wonderment and make his discoveries bearable for the reader, who is already more than familiar with these things, while still conveying his excitement and interest.
Because of all this, I find it fascinating to develop these moments. For some reason I find it really endearing to watch this character learn about his own interests from a distance - despite my supposedly dictating his every move. Instead, this is where the character for me is very much alive and doing his own thing in my head. I'm simply picking and choosing the parts I want to share.
Fascinating, maybe, but admittedly it's also quite hard to manage. I am acutely aware that I'm not just overloading the character, but the reader also, and I'm always aware that readers may get switched off by the amount of information I'm trying to pass over. So, I have to be a little careful. My goal is obviously to keep it interesting and balance these moments out. I think then the payoff for the reader will be worth it, especially once some of the puzzles begin to get resolved. In short, I know it's important to have a good balance of intrigue and explanation, and hopefully readers will find this when they dive in.
I'm so excited to be working on this book. Once you make a decision to commit to something like this, failure or success, it's a great experience - and merely going through the motions and finding my style as a writer has been fun, no matter the outcome.
Jimzip
Monday, January 16, 2012
A Deep Breath
It was quiet in the office last week. Not horrifically so, we hadn't resorted to braiding each other's hair and singing German folk songs, but quiet enough.
In the absence of work and after taking stock and sorting everything on the desk alphabetically however, I decided to follow a winding road and explore Norway ... digitally of course. You can cover a great deal of the country on google maps, moreso than I actually imagined - I don't think there was a fjord missed or a hytta unseen - and it made for quite the questy afternoon.
Unfortunately this virtual escape did the opposite of making time pass by. Instead it instilled in me a longing to sit once more, cramped and stifled in the coach of Air China (or whatever similar airline my meagre savings could afford) and sharing my personal space with a rotund version of Gilbert Gottfried for barely an hour short of my breaking point, thence at last to be released into the wild, fresh air of the North once again. Freedom! Beautiful freedom!
I have this crazy idea of exploring the Scandinavian tip of the world by motorbike, and possibly not returning for a while, instead content to live in various seaside cottages of small towns, where I would pass my hours chatting to locals by evening at the pub, learning about their fishing exploits, and the days wandering the coastline and tundra with some awesome camera in tow to catch that perfect shot of ... whatever it is the North felt like providing. This in itself shows the thoroughness of my thought processes, and perhaps the fallibility of my plans. One can dream.
In any case, for now I'm just glad to have conjured up the money for a trip to Turkey and Berlin in the coming months. This particular e-ticket will land me first in Istanbul, capital of that mysterious, humid bastion of east & west which I'm eagerly awaiting to explore again, map in pocket, phrasebook in hand and with a small group of friends.
I will be posting some photos (taken with my less than awesome camera) on this blog, and hopefully some new articles will be inspired. Huzzah!
</excited rant>
Jimzip
In the absence of work and after taking stock and sorting everything on the desk alphabetically however, I decided to follow a winding road and explore Norway ... digitally of course. You can cover a great deal of the country on google maps, moreso than I actually imagined - I don't think there was a fjord missed or a hytta unseen - and it made for quite the questy afternoon.
Unfortunately this virtual escape did the opposite of making time pass by. Instead it instilled in me a longing to sit once more, cramped and stifled in the coach of Air China (or whatever similar airline my meagre savings could afford) and sharing my personal space with a rotund version of Gilbert Gottfried for barely an hour short of my breaking point, thence at last to be released into the wild, fresh air of the North once again. Freedom! Beautiful freedom!
I have this crazy idea of exploring the Scandinavian tip of the world by motorbike, and possibly not returning for a while, instead content to live in various seaside cottages of small towns, where I would pass my hours chatting to locals by evening at the pub, learning about their fishing exploits, and the days wandering the coastline and tundra with some awesome camera in tow to catch that perfect shot of ... whatever it is the North felt like providing. This in itself shows the thoroughness of my thought processes, and perhaps the fallibility of my plans. One can dream.
In any case, for now I'm just glad to have conjured up the money for a trip to Turkey and Berlin in the coming months. This particular e-ticket will land me first in Istanbul, capital of that mysterious, humid bastion of east & west which I'm eagerly awaiting to explore again, map in pocket, phrasebook in hand and with a small group of friends.
I will be posting some photos (taken with my less than awesome camera) on this blog, and hopefully some new articles will be inspired. Huzzah!
</excited rant>
Jimzip
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Das Buch
Leaping again into the murky and ridiculously vacuous time vortex that is creative writing, I struggled for the longest time to get a chokehold on an idea I liked enough to expand on. I've never had a problem with writer's block (perhaps but hopefully not because my writing isn't intellectual or thought-provoking enough) but not having writer's block can also be a problem.
I had a pile of papers, each one littered with notes and concepts for stories, some with accompanying drafts of the first chapter or two, some with a big question mark dotted over the title or main character's name. None of them really leapt out at me. I had a string of narratives and a chorus line of characters rampaging through the 'random' folder on my hard-drive in various text files, annoying me with their dramatic introductions and semi-formed personas, but I didn't really click with any of them.
Of course, as often happens, it was when I was not trying that the eventual 'worthwhile' idea presented itself, and now a year and a half later I have a draft of the first part of The Binding of Ciltari, a fantasy/drama set in another place, another time, and I'm really happy with how it's emerging.
I just had a number of copies printed and flung them into the postage system to test on some poor, unwitting subjects and so far the response has been interesting. Thankfully - and perhaps due to my friends and family being too nice to knock me down a few pegs - it's been mostly positive. The feedback has been astute and invaluable in helping me make a couple of decisions and pointing out what needs to be fixed up before the next draft is ready - in other words there are definite changes to make, but that's writing.
You can see what's happening at www.BindingOfCiltari.com, though updates aren't going to be too frequent for a while. Hopefully I can also post a few tidbits here too.
Jimzip
I had a pile of papers, each one littered with notes and concepts for stories, some with accompanying drafts of the first chapter or two, some with a big question mark dotted over the title or main character's name. None of them really leapt out at me. I had a string of narratives and a chorus line of characters rampaging through the 'random' folder on my hard-drive in various text files, annoying me with their dramatic introductions and semi-formed personas, but I didn't really click with any of them.
Of course, as often happens, it was when I was not trying that the eventual 'worthwhile' idea presented itself, and now a year and a half later I have a draft of the first part of The Binding of Ciltari, a fantasy/drama set in another place, another time, and I'm really happy with how it's emerging.
I just had a number of copies printed and flung them into the postage system to test on some poor, unwitting subjects and so far the response has been interesting. Thankfully - and perhaps due to my friends and family being too nice to knock me down a few pegs - it's been mostly positive. The feedback has been astute and invaluable in helping me make a couple of decisions and pointing out what needs to be fixed up before the next draft is ready - in other words there are definite changes to make, but that's writing.
You can see what's happening at www.BindingOfCiltari.com, though updates aren't going to be too frequent for a while. Hopefully I can also post a few tidbits here too.
Jimzip
Monday, November 14, 2011
The Queen of the Adriatic - Part 2
Read Part 1 here
Though hundreds of churches seem to dot the skyline of this lagoon city, undoubtedly one of Venice's most beautiful monuments is the Basilica de San Marco, the decadent church constructed in honour of the city's patron saint.
Though the entire facade is a dizzying array of marble sculptures, finely polished columns and intricate stonework, it's upon the loggetta of the structure that one of the most mysterious sculptures still surviving from the ancient world stands, a quadriga which overlooks the grand Piazzetta and confronts visitors with curious tilted heads, proudly raised hooves and stoic expressions. These horses have been greeting people in the same manner for over a thousand years and though these statues are fakes, they nonetheless excude the same air of potent grandeur as their original cousins who in fact live only a few feet away, concealed in shadow.
The real horses of St. Marks have not always lived in Venice, they have a shaky history, one that has taken a deep plunge into the pool of historic puzzle-piecing and has emerged with a more than turbulent story. They have in fact traveled across the mediterranean and have presumably also witnessed some of history's most exhilarating moments, from adorning the triumphal arch in Emperor Constantine's newly created capital Constantinople, to being settled temporarily in Paris after Napoleon's wave of domination through Europe. They were spoils of war, and gifts of the most extravagant nature, but they have always found a home in some dramatic position no matter who their former owners might have been.
The originals are protected from the elements, nestled inside the basilica on the upper level and tucked into a corner behind glass. They are bronze as the fakes are, and were created utilising a lengthy process known as the 'lost wax' technique, which requires a sculpture to first be created in stone, clay or another material from which a cast is made and eventually used to produce the final metal reproduction. This of course means that even these bronze 'originals' aren't really originals .... at some point in history there was indeed a sculpture made of a less durable material, but unsurprisingly, this has been lost somewhere along the lines of the supposed two thousand years of the piece, in Rome, or Greece, or wherever they came from.
Part of the reason why these horses have remained such a tantalising puzzle for historians and archaeologists is that their past is so obscure, many have tried to place them originating from this or that city in the ancient world and many characters throughout history have mentioned them - or what is believed to be them - in various documents. The fact remains that their true story will most likely always be unknown, apart from what we can glean through the more recent accounts we have, paintings and historical writings being the largest source.
You can also glean things about the past just by looking, of course. A close inspection reveals that the horses were in fact bridled at some point, which could indicate the presence of a chariot or at least reins which were removed at some stage, and an engraving from 1740 shows that the horses once bore decorative collars as well, which have now been replaced by less-spectacular placeholders (1).
Napoleon himself saw great value in the quartet, and in December of 1797 had them removed from the basilica of St. Marks to be sent to Paris. Later after much difficulty on the part of a particular Italian artist (and by the Italian government themselves) the statues once more made their way back to Rome, and finally were settled back on their logetta in 1815.
No matter the past, the horses are as much today a symbol of power and elegance as ever, and Venice has a knack for procuring those sorts of items. Their re-introduction to the city was a great windfall for the populace, who hadn't been too keen on Napoleon comandeering the items in his plunderous sweep, but Venice it not the horses true home either. Will the Greeks one day rise up in protest to have them back? Probably not, but they're definitely worth the 2 Euros it costs to see them, if you're ever visiting the city and wish to witness some of history's most dramatic and lesser known artifacts.
You can read the most comprehensive history of the horses to date in Charles Freeman's 'The Horses of St. Mark's' (Abacus, 2007).
Jimzip
1. Freeman, Charles. The Horses of St. Marks p. 173
Though hundreds of churches seem to dot the skyline of this lagoon city, undoubtedly one of Venice's most beautiful monuments is the Basilica de San Marco, the decadent church constructed in honour of the city's patron saint.
Though the entire facade is a dizzying array of marble sculptures, finely polished columns and intricate stonework, it's upon the loggetta of the structure that one of the most mysterious sculptures still surviving from the ancient world stands, a quadriga which overlooks the grand Piazzetta and confronts visitors with curious tilted heads, proudly raised hooves and stoic expressions. These horses have been greeting people in the same manner for over a thousand years and though these statues are fakes, they nonetheless excude the same air of potent grandeur as their original cousins who in fact live only a few feet away, concealed in shadow.
 |
| Two of the four horses atop the loggetta. |
The real horses of St. Marks have not always lived in Venice, they have a shaky history, one that has taken a deep plunge into the pool of historic puzzle-piecing and has emerged with a more than turbulent story. They have in fact traveled across the mediterranean and have presumably also witnessed some of history's most exhilarating moments, from adorning the triumphal arch in Emperor Constantine's newly created capital Constantinople, to being settled temporarily in Paris after Napoleon's wave of domination through Europe. They were spoils of war, and gifts of the most extravagant nature, but they have always found a home in some dramatic position no matter who their former owners might have been.
The originals are protected from the elements, nestled inside the basilica on the upper level and tucked into a corner behind glass. They are bronze as the fakes are, and were created utilising a lengthy process known as the 'lost wax' technique, which requires a sculpture to first be created in stone, clay or another material from which a cast is made and eventually used to produce the final metal reproduction. This of course means that even these bronze 'originals' aren't really originals .... at some point in history there was indeed a sculpture made of a less durable material, but unsurprisingly, this has been lost somewhere along the lines of the supposed two thousand years of the piece, in Rome, or Greece, or wherever they came from.
Part of the reason why these horses have remained such a tantalising puzzle for historians and archaeologists is that their past is so obscure, many have tried to place them originating from this or that city in the ancient world and many characters throughout history have mentioned them - or what is believed to be them - in various documents. The fact remains that their true story will most likely always be unknown, apart from what we can glean through the more recent accounts we have, paintings and historical writings being the largest source.
You can also glean things about the past just by looking, of course. A close inspection reveals that the horses were in fact bridled at some point, which could indicate the presence of a chariot or at least reins which were removed at some stage, and an engraving from 1740 shows that the horses once bore decorative collars as well, which have now been replaced by less-spectacular placeholders (1).
Napoleon himself saw great value in the quartet, and in December of 1797 had them removed from the basilica of St. Marks to be sent to Paris. Later after much difficulty on the part of a particular Italian artist (and by the Italian government themselves) the statues once more made their way back to Rome, and finally were settled back on their logetta in 1815.
 |
| Napoleon's troops assembled outside the Tuileries in Paris in the late 1700's. The horses can be seen standing on the pillars of the outer fence. |
No matter the past, the horses are as much today a symbol of power and elegance as ever, and Venice has a knack for procuring those sorts of items. Their re-introduction to the city was a great windfall for the populace, who hadn't been too keen on Napoleon comandeering the items in his plunderous sweep, but Venice it not the horses true home either. Will the Greeks one day rise up in protest to have them back? Probably not, but they're definitely worth the 2 Euros it costs to see them, if you're ever visiting the city and wish to witness some of history's most dramatic and lesser known artifacts.
You can read the most comprehensive history of the horses to date in Charles Freeman's 'The Horses of St. Mark's' (Abacus, 2007).
Jimzip
1. Freeman, Charles. The Horses of St. Marks p. 173
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Artifact: Vasa
 |
| The Vasa at Vasamuseet, Stockholm |
In 1628, Sweden's nautical power was at it's prime. Sweden had joined the devastating Thirty Years War with Denmark and had an interest in controlling the upper part of the Germanic territories bordering the Baltic Sea while all the confusion was going on below. It was a pretty good tactic, to jump in while whole regions of lower Europe were being devastated and everyone was in disarrary, much like the shrewd character who sneakily sidles over and pockets the crown-jewels while the other thieves are rolling around in a discordant dust cloud.
King Gustavus Adolphus (a stunningly original name for a Swedish monarch. By the by, if you ever have to guess the name of a Swedish King, Gustav is a fair bet) was one of the most successful Swedish monarchs in terms of military victory having ruled throughout the entire war, and decided near the end of the fiasco to comission a military vessel - another warship as grand in its scale as his percieved victory.
He would not be there when his ship was launched however. The king was abroad when the beautiful and mighty vessel 'Vasa' left the harbour, and whilst upon it's maiden voyage out of Stockholm foundered less than a mile from its fanfare-surrounded point of origin and sank.
 |
| The extremely detailed stern and aftcastle of the Vasa |
Due to faults in design from rushed planning, an insufficient and cricial lack of ballast, and a rather strong wind straight off the bat, the great ship was doomed to founder and after its precious bronze cannons were retrieved in the 17th century, was forgotten, lying on the ocean floor until discovered again by chance in the mid 1900's.
Luckily the freezing waters (and thus lack of woodworm) preserved the ship remarkably well, and today it sits in a museum for all to see, Stockholm's Vasamuseet. It's a definite to-do if you're visiting the city.
Jimzip
Monday, October 24, 2011
The Queen of the Adriatic - Part 1
 |
| The Piazzetta San Marco, Venice |
Few cities on Earth rival the sheer splendour, history or mystery of Venice. It's piecemeal development has been shaped by numerous owners, and influenced by it's major role in the history of Europe over the last thousand years, from it's origins as a supposed fishing colony on swampy marshland, to a town built up by fleeing Romans, it has been slowly and at times turbulently transformed into one of the most beautiful cities ever built.
Though the city itself could be considered a relic and piece of art, within its labyrinthine twists and turns lie a number of artifacts the city has collected from both Italy and abroad, two of the most famous including the beautiful Horses of St. Marks, and the striking bronze statues of St. Theodore and the winged-lion (and symbol of Venice) sitting atop their columns. Today I wish to start this series by talking about one of these two columns.
In particular the lion of St. Mark may have more of a story behind it than initially strikes the visiting traveler. Very little in Venice originated in the city itself, the origins of its treasures as varied as the city's various historical custodians and this statue has lived a life in line with that past.
It is comprised of various different bronze pieces held together by metal braces. The wings, added by restorers, which were originally created to look like individual feathers (1) were later modified to become solid blocks. The body itself is argued to have come from Constantinople as a spoil of war and was originally a chimera, not a lion, which then had the wings added to fit the character of Venice's patron saint St. Mark. Preceding its life in Constantinople, the lion (or chimera) has a possible origin in Persia and it thought to have been created somewhere around 300BC (2). That's an old statue.
The tail is debatably the original, but if the chimera assumption is correct it has been modified heavily or replaced, the original would have been in the form of a snake (traditionally chimeras have the body of a lion, the tail is a snake, and to make things more uncomfortable and just generally perplexing also have a goat's head emerging from their back).
Looking closely at the face of the statue one can imagine that its original form was different, the face doesn't quite match like what any modern observer would call a lion though by historical accounts, lion's faces were rarely rendered very accurately in art (understandable as … well have you ever tried to sketch a lion's face up close?), but does have unforgiving traits for ancient depictions of the chimera. The 'Chimera of Arrezzo' is an Etruscan bronze sculpture currently housed in the Archaeological Museum in Florence which carries remarkable familiarities to the St. Marks lion sculpture, especially the shape of the ears and face.
 |
| The Lion of St. Mark atop its column in the Piazzetta |
Under its front paws, the statue stands proudly on a book, which in other depictions of the lion of St. Mark can be seen front on and contains the text 'Pax tibi, Marce, Evangelista meus'. This Latin phrase, translated to 'Peace be upon you Mark, my evangelist' is the line supposedly delivered to Mark by an angel (legend tells that St. Mark visited Venice before he died, and was told that the city would be his final resting place). The book cannot be seen when viewing the sculpture from below, but from the Doge's Palace alongside, or even St. Marks Basilica in the nearby Piazza it is clear.
The final piece of this puzzle of a grab-bag relic is the very pillar upon which it sits. Like the matching column a few meters away carrying St. Theodore, this granite monolith is supposedly another spoil of Venetian plundering. In any case it certainly wasn't made in Venice nor for the purpose it's now used for, and its origins extend from the island of Chios in Greece (which early on was one of the most prosperous of the Greek islands) to Alexandria.
The Alexandrian theory is generally favoured, as the style and material supposedly matches that used in royal and administrative structures in the ancient Egyptian city. How the pillars were taken is unknown, but the old Venetians had an eye for such things and when Alexandria was in social and financial decay due to the silting of the Nile and the Arab invasion they went in for the valuables. It was not a unique case, half of Venice could be built on stone columns from distant cities thanks to the city's bold sea-faring and militarised past.
The columns were of course transported by sea and found their way into the Piazzetta where they remain to this day. Originally they would have welcomed visitors who arrived by water, but with today's train station depositing entering tourists the city at the opposite end, their effect is somewhat diminished. Nonetheless, the statues and their platforms are still a beautiful sight to anyone lucky enough to see them.
Jimzip
1. Ackroyd, Peter. Venice Pure City p. 255/256
2. Freeman, Charles. The Horses of St. Marks p. 87/88
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