What You See, or What You Hear, or Taste, or Feel . . . is What You Get

 

They call Missouri the "show me" state. But in reality, as a species, we all live in a state of "show me." It has always been that way. If we couldn't see it, well, it just couldn't be. So the stars were painted on the inside of a sphere we could almost see. The sun and moon rotated around that same sphere, with a consistency we could visualize with constructions like Stonehenge scattered throughout the globe - with us naturally at the center of the sphere. But the sphere was as far as we could see, so beyond it - nothing.

The same was true of the oceans, with the exception of the imaginings of grog-addled fishermen, the world stopped at the horizon. Between the beach and the horizon there was empty water and, turning the other way, beyond the high mountains lived dragons. What we could not see, we filled with myth and fantasy.

But that existential stasis was always being challenged by another of our internal drivers - curiosity. And among those who accepted the emptiness beyond the end of sight were others who wondered, as Louis L'Amor put it, what lay beyond the blue mountains, past the ocean's horizon, even behind the sphere that held the stars , the sun and the moon?

So those hardy souls set forth to see what they could find - struggling over the mountains and tackling the seas with seemingly death-inviting crafts. But curiosity took an even more insistent hand in the 1500s and 1600s when the precursors of our millennium's garage tinkerers, named Jobs and Wozniak, were presaged by Hans Lippershey, Zacharias Janssen, and Galileo Galilei. 

Restless minds who began to mess around with lenses, and tubes and mirrors and point them at the star-studded sphere. And so planets became real because we could see them.  Robert Hooke and Antonie van Leeuwenhoek took that same paraphernalia and peered through their tubes into the realm of the very small and spotted the tiny creatures of microbiology. 

And so it has gone on until we now loft our telescopes; James Webb, Hubble and Chandra X, beyond our imagined sphere, peering ever further out into space and back into time - seeing more, knowing more believing in more. While particle colliders like the large hadron collider (LHC) at Cern and its kin push Hooke and van Leeuwenhoek's insights into the small past anything they might have dreamed of - new realms revealed to our senses and thus made real.

So what is left? There is no doubt, given resources and a renewed political will, our fascination with the stars will remain.  But I wonder if we will put the same effort, time, and resources that we have invested in examining the very large, the cosmos, into exploring the very small?

Perhaps it is that particular slice of curiosity that have made reflections on strings and harmony my recent companions during the wee hours after midnight. But before I walk you down that particular rabbit hole let me refresh you with a really brief and incomplete summary of string theory. [If you want a reasonably readable work by one of the foremost figures in the field google try The Elegant Universe by Brian Greene. For my own long yet more simplistic take on the issue, drop me a note. I think I still have a copy of The God Chord: Physics in the Landscape of the Heart on my backup drive somewhere.]

Basically, string theory asserts that the universe - everything - is composed of infinitely small, tiny, tiny, tiny, indivisible into anything smaller - vibrating strings.  It has always been my contention that vibrating strings, no matter how tiny, make music. Consider all the stringed instruments, consider the wind instruments whose voice depends on tiny string-laden vibrating currents of air, consider the ear drums whose vibrations allow us to hear anything. Wherever there are vibrations there is sound - or I as I prefer - music.

However, it is music that we cannot hear. Just as we could not see beyond the ocean's horizon, just as we had to imagine a sphere to give the heavenly bodies a locus, we cannot perceive these tiny strings of string theory, because we have yet to devise the technology that will reveal them, will make them "real." So currently we can only imagine their pervasive influence on our worlds and on our lives and hope we do a bit better than our ancestors who hung the stars on an imagined sphere and watched the stars, moon and sun revolve around us - the center of the universe.

Again I am going to save you the winding rambles of The God Chord, and give you the Cliff Notes versions of the assumptions I make there. They should not surprise you if you remember that my personal four-part existential mantra is: Foster Harmony, Enable Beauty, Distill Complexity, and Oppose Harm. [And yes, I realize I often fall short . . . . ] But I promised Cliff Notes, so:

Harmony: Strings naturally combine with other strings that share their vibrations - characteristics we would hear as tone, pitch, etc. -all those characteristics that we ascribe to music - to create larger harmonic entities. Think of our bodies. Within each of our billions and billions of cells resides our DNA, beloved of police procedural mysteries. And within every telltale snippet of DNA reside more billions of strings - all humming along in harmony.

Discord: It is important to remember that every entity in existence is internally harmonic. A slug no less than an orchid. But those harmonic entities exist in a universe of constant change, and so will undoubtedly occasionally encounter entities whose harmony differs from their own. The result is discord. Consider two orchestras sharing the same stage, but playing different scores. Great way to empty an auditorium.

So further consider, if you will, the possible result of such discord in the world around us. I will choose to ignore the pervasive discord we read about in the newspapers or see on our various screens. That discussion would take us far afield from these Cliff Notes. Instead let us consider our own lives and our interactions with other people, internally consistent, hence unique harmonic entities - made up of their own billions and billions of strings, within their DNA, within all the cells of their bodies. Whew.

First, in situation A, as Oscar Hammerstein II put it, "some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger across a crowded room, and some how you know, you know even then, that somewhere you'll see her again and again." You fall in love. In my Cliff Notes version of string theory - your billions of strings are in harmony with your now beloved. Love at first sight.

However, in situation B you meet someone who - in scientific terms - just creeps you out. They may be quite ordinary - face, form, voice, demeanor - all those easily observable cues that you might find acceptable - possibly even attractive. But there is just something . . . . yech.  And that something, I would contend, would be billions of strings that are discordant with yours. Their strings are the orchestra playing the other symphony.

OK, those are not outrageous scenarios. Ones most of us have experienced to some degree. But they are not the ones keeping me up during the tiny hours. Rather it is the implications of strings functioning outside humanity that keeps me tossing and turning.

The number of studies examining interactions in the animal kingdom continue to multiply. Primates, elephants, horses, dogs, even those haughty cats - take your pick. They all seem to possess interaction patterns that can be, without straining credulity, seen as analogous to the humans in the harmony/discord examples above. But wait, it gets weirder.

In the interest of Cliff Notes I'm going to skip - inexcusably - the insects who make up the mass of life around us. Dancing honeybees, carnivorous bugs with intricate masquerades to attract prey. Just too much there that I could, if allowed, fit into a discourse among strings. So, I'll move on.

What is the largest living organism in the world?  Blue whale? Wrong. But a good guess. Here I'm going to defer to Google and give you its take:

"The largest living organism on Earth is the "Humongous Fungus" (Armillaria ostoyae). Located in the Malheur National Forest in Oregon, this single fungal network spans approximately 2,385 acres (3.5 square miles) and weighs an estimated 35,000 tons.

By Area: The largest single organism by physical area is a massive seagrass meadow (Posidonia australis) in Shark Bay, Australia. It covers roughly 180 square kilometers (about 44,500 acres) and is a single, self-cloned plant.

By Mass (Plants): "Pando" is a clonal colony of quaking aspen trees in Utah that share a single, massive root system. Spanning 106 acres, its collective weight is estimated at 6,000 tons, making it the heaviest plant organism."

Yeah. There is a humungus fungus among us, and a couple of mind-blowing plants. All of which are, at their absolutely most basic level, made up of unique entities we have never seen, heard, smelled, touched or tasted - yet, confusingly - make up everything we have ever seen, heard, smelled, touched or tasted. Yes, strings.

I wonder what would result were we able to perceive strings? Sense them in some way? "Oh, hi there! I see you are a C-sharp , 8-beats to the bar! Me too! Would you like to get dinner?" No, that's silly. 

But would sensing existence on that string level allow for the degree of change made possible by the other significant insights resulting from an enhanced ability to see and understand the world around, and inside, us? NASA, CRISPER, vaccines, painless surgery, the Internet unfolding the world across our screens, instant communication, atomic power, and on, and on. 

The idea intrigues me. Would medicine advance on the string level? "Oh, there is a cancerous growth here. It's a basic discordance. We simply need to re-tune the strings in this area." "Whoa! Broke that ankle skiing? Just lie back and we will get a string wrap for you. You'll be back on the slopes tomorrow. Try to stay off those black diamond runs! OK?" Not totally absurd bits of conjecture.

But some other things intrude in the tiny hours. Strings beyond sentience. Art that speaks to us. Think of your favorite painting, sculpture, song, poem, novel. It really does "speak" to you. But how? Is beauty, like falling in love, a concordance of strings? Did the artist arrange color, form, sound, words in such a way that the strings underlying those elements [remember everything is made up of strings] result in a construction that is harmonic with others? And are "classics" harmonic with a wide range of "audiences" over many years? So, it follows that every creative act is a composition, so we are all, in our own way, composers.

And finally, and strangest of all, is there a sentience threshold for strings? If everything is made of strings, isn't everything making some sort of harmony? Was my younger daughter heartbroken when "bunny" got lost at the hospital because there was a shared string-level resonance between her and that inanimate, insentient construction? Maybe animism got more right than it is currently accorded.

While finally drifting off to sleep to the early morning twitters of the birds in the trees beyond my window, a thought came to me "panphonism" - the notion that maybe everything really is made of music, and maybe someday we will figure out how to listen to it.

Nameless

 Undoubtedly the result of my moving away from the last couple of pieces where the colors and shapes seemed to just overwhelm the page. I will probably settle on a name for this piece - just nothing occurs to me right now. Your suggestions are quite welcome!  The golden faces with the music notes are copies of a mask we bought last trip to Venice. 😁

On Prayer, Or Something Like It

This is a bit of a ramble, mostly thoughts that make themselves known in the tiny hours after midnight when I cannot sleep.They often have much in common with the general notion of mortality, in which - as I have written elsewhere, I do not believe - preferring the idea of our immortality on planes we do not yet fully comprehend. But that is a minority opinion. The more common view is the one Iris DeMent considers in her 1992 song, Let the Mystery Be:

"Everybody is wondering what and where they all came from. Everybody is worrying 'bout where they're gonna go when the whole thing's done. But no one knows for certain and so it's all the same to me. I think I'll just let the mystery be.

Some say once you're gone you're gone forever. And some say you're gonna come back. Some say you rest in the arms of the Savior if in sinful ways you lack. Some say that they're coming back in a garden. Bunch of carrots and little sweet peas. I think I'll just let the mystery be."

While Ms. DeMent may be content to "let the mystery be," many are not. Others, perhaps particularly those of us with 7, 8, maybe 9 decades in the rearview mirror, seem to become more concerned about where they fit in "the mystery." They often shake the rust off childhood training, and find their way back into religious houses and behaviors long ignored - seeking guidance as to how they might participate in that ongoing "mysterious dialogue."

That desire for active participation in "the dialogue of the mysterious" apparently manifests itself across cultures and belief systems, in something commonly referred to as "prayer."

Let me step back a bit since I'm not really sure when and with whom I first broached these notions. A common conception of prayer is that our supplications reach the eternal - that God hears our prayers, and can intercede on our behalf.  That would be so cool.

But such an assertion leaves unexplained the horrors of our history: the genocides, the wars, the historic evils of famine, disease, etc. We are watching World War II with Tom Hanks, replete with footage from destroyed cities, corpses strewn across battlefields, and the ultimate horrors of the death camps of "the final solution." We also watched Ken Burns' series on the American Civil War with its own cast of chaos and mayhem. Would a just and loving god who hears our prayers and can intervene on our behalf permit all that? I would hope not. But, still, I do not believe that those unattended horrors of history obviate the value of prayer - or something like it.

When we are beset by "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" we tend to find comfort in conversation, in sharing our fears and frustrations with those who might provide some sort of solace. And who better than God? Well, as noted above, her track record for intervention, rescue, solace and reconciliation is not that great.

So, as an alternative, let me share some thoughts about a common phrase I encounter in one of my favorite mystery series - The Vatican Secret Archives Mysteries, by Gary McAvoy in which the protagonist is a priest and the secret son of the Pope. It is a excellent, enjoyable, well-crafted mystery series. Take a look.

But most germane to this post is the common phrase from the series - "pray on it." When the plot becomes twisted and complex the strategy is often to "pray on it." Which in more common parlance is "to think about it" but with the implied assistance of a higher power. Which, with my reluctant dismissal of an attentive interventionist deity, comes to mean - to me - a reflective internal dialogue with a "listening entity." An "le."

But this prayer-like dialogue goes beyond the more mundane activity of simply "talking to yourself." One needs to assume that the "le" knows everything that you know, and is better at bringing important connections to the conversation - and hence actually, sort of, knows more than you. So in the conversation with the "le" we are forced to examine the legitimacy of our beliefs with this more intelligent version of ourselves. We need to "come clean" with the "le" to a degree that we might never share with those outside our head and heart.

I have recently, perhaps as a result of those horrific video images, felt compelled to add "compassionate" to my self-talk partner. So it becomes "a compassionate listening entity" or "cle" or "Seelea" in casual conversation, as in "Seelea, keep an eye on those I love." But adding those requests to the conversation, brings us back to the issue of an "interventionist" entity. Can Seelea really keep an eye on those I love? No, I don't think Seelea can intervene in their lives, any more than an interventionist god could have prevented Auschwitz or Gettysburg. But what Seelea can bring to the conversation is a reminder for me to keep those loved ones in my mind and consider how I might "keep an eye on them", how I might be a positive, but not intrusive, element in their lives.

Which sort of brings me to the notion of groups "praying for" a list of congregants. Rather than just defaulting to the offhand "Well, it can't do any harm" response, I like to think there might, even in the absence of an interventionist deity, actually be a positive impact of such prayer - if the object of the prayers knows that there are prayers being directed to their well-being. 

 Why? Because there is ample evidence that "attitude" can play a significant role in life. According to The National Institutes of Health:

"A person's attitude profoundly shapes their physical, mental, and emotional well-being. A positive, optimistic mindset is directly linked to enhanced immune responses, lower stress hormone levels, and greater cardiovascular health. Conversely, chronic negativity or a defeatist attitude can perpetuate a cycle of poor health and reduced resilience which is directly linked to poorer immune responses, higher stress hormone levels, and reduced cardiovascular health."

So if you know that there are a bunch of people out there "praying for you," odds are that knowledge would contribute to "A positive, optimistic mindset" and the benefits associated with that mindset.

So Seelea and I, both, would wish to leave you with best wishes for a positive, optimistic mindset. :-)

An AI for the Shopping Guy - or Gal

Whew!

I do most of the grocery shopping for us. Actually, being the only on e with a driver's license, I do all the driving for us. Which is why this idea came to me as I pulled up to Trump's Pump and saw that I could steal a gallon of regular for about 4.50 or jump to premium at a shade over 6.00. Yeah, I could drive a couple of hours over to Indiana or Michigan and save a few dollars - but that seems a bit counterproductive right?

So I got this idea for an AI-type app. You could probably do it without AI, but with everyone jumping on the AI bandwagon I figure why not? Let's get back to groceries. 

I use about four different grocery stores for different reasons. Brookhaven is closest, but a bit limited in selections. Pete's is a little further up the road, but has a more selections and an excellent salad bar for nights when we don't want to cook. Kramers is farther away but has bran muffins that Christine likes and - I kid you not - jumbo eggs for 1.99 a dozen. And then of course, there is Costco for mass quantities of paper products and the best ice cream (tied with Trader Joe's which also has the best cheese selection - so five I guess.

So, time was when I would decide on my shopping route based solely on which store or stores best met the items on my shopping list. But no more. Now I consider how much gas I am going to burn as I drive about. 

So here is the idea:

I tell my AI: "I am currently driving using gas for which I paid _____ per galloon. My car gets an average of 23.6 mpg. I am driving from [location A] to [Location B] which is a distance of x miles. How much will it cost me to drive that route?"

Of course, I assume the AI would be smart enough to interface with my gps to select the best route given traffic conditions, perhaps even depreciation on the vehicle. So I would know exactly how much the Trump Pump is costing me per trip. 

I noticed today that my gps defaulted to what it called "my preferred route" which was actually "the back way to home" that I do prefer. I'm assuming my "AI for the Shopping Guy" would store my usual shopping routes and would automatically compute optimal "savings routes" between and among the various stores. It could also inform me if I was passing by a gas station that offered the grade of gas I prefer at a price better than the one I was currently using.

So, yeah, I can see some pragmatic uses for AI. But hands off my drawing and my writing. That is just weird, and evil, and would make my students more prone to cheat and less creative than they were back before AI - heck, even before spell-check.

Patterns

 I have heard that Gaudi's icon church Sagrada Familia is finished. I think one could only make such an assertion now that Gaudi has been dead for a hundred years. For, I believe, when he was alive he would never condone such a claim. Go ahead and google the structure - I cannot find an image I can "borrow" for you. But take a look. Does that look finished to you? Me either. Gaudi was a bit of a mad architect, ensnared by his love of patterns. Every "finished" piece would suggest another, a little higher, with a few more curves.

At least that is what I choose to believe because it serves as a plausible explanation of the drawing I have just completed which I choose to call "Patterns." Here is is:

Or at least most of it. A bit got trimmed off along the top but you wouldn't notice unless you were standing in front of the original which is about 24x20 inches. OK, it started out with a different name - "Loggias" - for the two wooden structures in the center. These, actually two versions of the same loggia::

And then I decided to add some lamp posts from a bridge in Budapest:

And as you can see, started to draw in a bit of the night sky and changed the name to "Lighting the Loggias." And that is when the patterns started to take over:

At that point I just admitted that I had lost control of the image, and let the patterns go wherever they wanted. And they did, until they handed the image off to the markers, who - as I watched my hands move across the paper - ended where we started:

Which brings me to an interesting conclusion. I think I have gone about as far as I want with this particular genre. My drawing table surrounds me with some earlier, very different images:

I'm not sure if I will m ove in the direction of any of those pix, but I will move somewhere 🙂

Watch this space!

Whatever Happened to Rest Homes?

 It doesn't seem to be a heretical question. Seems like there used to be a lot of them. Places with names like Shady Rest, or Restful Oaks, Seaside Rest, Sailor's Rest. Stuff like that. Of course the problem was that those names quickly became seen as code for "old people's homes." Places where "old people" went to die.

So now we have "retirement communities," and "independent living communities." And forget about the notion of dying. Peruse the websites for these places and you see lithe and tanned folks with perfect teeth dining al fresco around golf courses and pickleball courts, dancing the tango, albeit with obligatory grey hair - actually more silver than grey.

Mind you, I have nothing against staying fit once you pass a few score years. I should put more effort in there. But I think there is a question of degree. My brother-in-law functioned as my father's "trainer" when my father was a resident in one of those "independent-living-graduated-care" facilities called Paradise Park about 5 or ten miles from my sister's home in Barrington. [I can't help thinking of a parking lot outside paradise] Anyhow, he would take Dad to the "gym" and encourage him to use the "reclining bicycle" and other fitness machines. And I have no doubt that routine contributed to Dad making it past his 100th birthday. I'm not sure when he stopped playing golf, apparently he was still whacking the ball around into his mid-90s. Not all that surprising considering the longevity of his siblings - good genes there.

However, pickleball and water calisthenics were still distant gleams in some phys-ed teacher's eye. And I'm not sure that we should be pushing our "super-seniors" like 80, 90 year-olds - to be among those folks we see on the news, running marathons on their 85th birthday, etc. Those folks are exceptional, and don't need much external motivation. Secretly, I think there are some genetic links to the Energizer Bunny at play.

But for the rest of us, there are mental health issues involved - not just physical ones. The problem is that while the mind may retain the muscle memories of one's youth, the body may not retain the actual muscle necessary to make good on the memory. 

 I have had a couple such issues recently. First, I went to the driving range with a family member up here. He is only a handful of years younger than I, and plays golf quite regularly. So I figured why not. I used to play rather often myself - back in Raleigh. Flirted with a handicap in the mid-teens. Yet embarrassing would be a polite way to describe the outing, unless preparing a flower bed had been the objective. I was the ultimate divot dandy.

The second event was even worse. I grew up around YMCA basketball courts. All through high school I was a "Junior Leader" at one of the local YMCAs. Every Saturday we led gym classes, played pick-up basketball games, stuff like that. Then for one summer I was the "program director" at the "black" YMCA - remember, this was several decades ago. There I got to play basketball with guys who hadn't made their way into high school, but could have played on any team in the city. So for awhile there I "had game," or what would hav e passed as such for most 5' 9ish" white kids in the 1960s. OK, so the other night we were having a family dinner and my buddy from the golfing fiasco was out shooting baskets with his young grandson. I sauntered out to join them. What transpired made my driving range display seem PGA worthy. The point is that my brain was completely confident that I could perform at my middle-age level. The muscle memory was there, the muscles - and to a certain extent the hand-eye coordination - was not.

This is not a call for becoming sedentary once you reach your "golden years." Not at all. But as the ancient Greek poet Hesiod stated: [and dozens of others have since cribbed] "Observe due measure; moderation is best in all things." Which brings me back to the notion of rest homes. Hopefully we spend the lion's share of our life "doing stuff." We have a job, outside or within the house, which pays the bills and allows us to create a meaningful life. But once we retire from that "day-to-day" it might be time to consider devoting more time to resting, thinking, to considering more mindful activities.

As usual I can speak best to my own activities. And here a picture may be worth a thousand words:

It is fitting that my picture of my primary restful, mindful activity shows the place where I make pictures. The picture is actually taken with a couple of computers next to and behind me, which is where I compose these Schrag Walls. And there you have my dominant activities. And yes, I am aware that I have sloughed off on the activities that would allow greater synergy between my muscle memory and my muscles. I will try harder.

But there is infinite value in just sitting outside watching the wind in the trees, and being amazed by how the clouds move in synchrony with the breeze. Listening to the sounds outside, birds, squirrels, even the varying echos of traffic. And attending to those sounds we can capture inside, as we select from the seemingly limitless online options. Visiting the wild and ancient places of the world as they unfold on our various screens. And, of course, making marks on paper and, outside, throwing tennis balls for puppies.

These are restful, mindful activities. And while often readily available to us, in today's youth and fitness obsessed world, they seem neglected, if not actually disparaged, while the contemporary, polished versions of "tote that barge, lift that bale" are lionized.

Hmm. All things in moderation.

My Plan and God's Laughter

I suppose it is because I spend so much time making little marks on paper that I wonder what the famous great artists of history thought about when they worked. I mean were they always focused on color, shading, pressure on the brush and all that? I mean consider Vermeer. [And I really recommend a video called Tim's Vermeer, Google it and give it a look.]

Anyway, look at that drapery in the lower right-hand corner. Got to be a lot of "dot, dot, dot" going on there. What's going through his mind while doing all those dots? Sure, he had to get the colors right - but he did that on his palette before dotting. What was he thinking while dotting?

I suppose I think about this issue because I spend so much time, as I said, making marks on paper. And my mind wanders into many different places when drawing. Some are stranger than others. Sometimes it has to do with the music that I always listen to while drawing. We all have a soundtrack to our lives, and if I am listening to music from a particular era of my soundtrack I find myself wandering around in those places with those spaces and faces. However, when I listen to classical music which is not firmly embedded in any specific part of the soundtrack - things get different. I suppose it harkens back to my lifelong history of doodling. Sort of letting the marking device - pencil, pen, whatever - wander around wherever it wanted.

Let's look at a contemporary example from the Loggia and Lights piece I am working on now. This is from the background - which has a lot of real estate to cover since the whole image is about 36x48:

Those little guys are somewhere between a quarter and a half an inch long and are - in my mind - randomly spaced around the paper. So that image is maybe 2x3 inches of the whole drawing. But when I begin to add color to the little rectangle-ish spaces something very different starts to appear. So this image is maybe 3x4:

Those little random spaces begin to take on a life of their own. Here's another look:

It is sort of like looking at an ocean with currents, and swirls, and whirlpools - that I don't really plan. I do create a palette, with a range of colors that I think would be appropriate for that area of the image. This is part of the background sky - I'll share the whole image in a few days? weeks? when it's done. But once the palette is selected the colors pretty much take over. I'll pick a starting point, but then the colors seem to take on their own weight, mobility, momentum and they move along.

Being so fond of metaphors I had to come up with one to explain this ouija board kind of artistic phenomenon. And it struck me that the old saw "we plan and god laughs" might apply. The "plan" is the monochrome version of the little squiggles version that I decide is "finished" - when it is right.  My plan. God's laughter echoes in the application of color.

Makes sense to me 😁

HiTech, HiTouch and Hybrid

My wife recently sent me a link from Business Week addressing the notion that this year's college graduating class will be the first that has had access to ChatGPT for their entire college career. {https://apple.news/Azz8OMPJ6Q2abt8DWCUpAyA} 

 It is an interesting read, especially for folks like me who spent their entire professional life in the halls of academe. It certainly increases my empathy for those in that world who have to deal with discerning the source of various exams, articles, etc. Empathy stems from memories of a far different reality: watching my father grading "blue books" after dinner at the dining room table. "Blue books" were small, blue-covered paper booklets used by students to write essay exams. They usually consisted of dozen or so sheets of lined white paper. And that memory suggests one solution to the crisis in the classroom: bring back written work. Pencil to paper. Phones and smart watches, etc., deposited at the door. Sure, a lot of work to grade, but at least you knew you were seeing the student's actual thoughts - or lack thereof. 

 I addressed my thoughts on the impact of ChatGPT in general in this previous post: https://schragwall.blogspot.com/2026/04/artificial-intelligence.html, 

 But I wanted to suggest a few other thoughts. In the world outside the classroom "bring back written work" will rarely be a feasible reaction to AI - which is obviously here to stay, and will only increase its presence in our lives. Instead it strikes me that it might be helpful to acknowledge to ourselves, and perhaps to those with whom we share our work, the extent to which our artifacts [anything we create, words, images, music, etc.] employ digital agents. I am currently leaning towards the three categories that are the title of this post: HiTech, HiTouch and Hybrid. Let me unpack my thinking on each. 

HiTech. These are artifacts that lean heavily on digital tools. Of concern in the Business Week article are student papers that are essentially "cut and paste" compositions cribbed from various online sources. Academic and professional journals are facing similar problems. However, I should point out that there is space for such endeavors. Annotated bibliographies are quite important works in many areas of research. It is common place for the creators of various artifacts to declare: "My work stands upon the shoulders of those giants who have gone before." Annotated bibliographies gather those giants in an easily accessible space. 

 In the sciences those "giants" are, in some cases, bits of technology that allow for the gathering, inspection, and expansion of various data sets that allow for insights that would be impossible without those technologies. Additionally, HiTech can flourish in some unexpected places. In the ARTificial Intelligence piece referenced above I discuss how I used Photoshop to assemble pieces of several disparate previously created images in to a new composition. 

More intriguing was a video I saw about the HiTech production of The Great Animal Orchestra: Symphony for Orchestra and Wild Soundscapes, created in 2014 by soundscape ecologist and musician Bernie Krause, and composer Richard Blackford.

https://youtu.be/btrinTDDjnQ?si=rxiHWG7stRg70fcN

Krause had gathered, over the years, thousands of recordings of animal calls in the wild. Blackford composed a symphony based on those digital pieces, recorded the symphony, and together they digitally blended those two complex audio sources into a creation that became the symphony. Definitely HiTech. 

In the final analysis the artifacts deemed HiTech are those in which the major elements of the artifact are digital. Less easy to define, but still important is the amount of "hands on time" as opposed to "screen time" that you, or other creators, spent in making the artifact. This aspect is kind of slippery, and remains secondary to the necessary dominance of digital elements. 

HiTouch. This one is less complex, easier to define. The primary defining element is the amount of effort to create the artifact that was spent with the "hands of the creator" in physical contact with the artifact. The clearest examples are painting - the creator of the artifact actually applying something to a surface; and sculpture when the creator of the artifact assembles or shapes a physical artifact. While it is easy to cite classical examples - Michelangelo's David or his work on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel - modern examples require a softer definition. Hence the important aspect of the definition depends upon the extent to which the artifact was actually physically created by human hands, free of digital assistance. These "pure touch" artifacts are not as dominant as they once were which leads us to the final category - Hybrid. 

Hybrid. These artifacts are ubiquitous in modern life. In fact, it takes significant effort to not be complicit in their creation. You write a text or an email and "suggestions" pop up as to what your next word might be, allowing you to simply click on the word, avoiding the mundane necessity of actually typing the word - or you can simply click on the microphone and create your message verbally. You can disable these helpful? Intrusive? little gnomes but that sometimes requires venturing into the world of HiTech. 

 But my concern here is not so much defeating HiTech intrusions into the creation of artifacts. Rather I am interested in how Tech and Touch can merge in the creation of unique artifacts. It might be best - and certainly easiest for me - to talk about the process I use in my own Hybrid works. Most commonly I use one of my photographs to create a template for the eventual artifact. That is not as simple as it sounds. For example I wanted to use this model of a carriage in an image: 

 The first step was to put that image into Photoshop and remove everything that wasn't carriage. A rather laborious process that gave me this: 

But I wanted a bunch of carriages crisscrossing each other in the final artifact, so back to Photoshop which eventually gave me this: [I don't have the completely blank image so pretend the color isn't there ;-)] 

And that was when I realized I had over-stepped. The Carriages had somehow blossomed into a piece that was about 4x3 feet. But that was the end of the HiTech part of the artifact. Everything over the next few weeks was my hand to the paper - drawing on the bedroom floor as the image was far too big for my drafting table. HiTouch for each different carriage as you can see above and below. 

 And then I began to obsess over the blank spaces along each side of the image. And condemned my self to another few weeks filling in those spaces HiTouch [Final time "hands on the artifact" approximately 5 weeks - several hours a day]: 

So that's one example of HyBrid. 

 Additionally, one of the grand kids up here does some interesting work with 3D printing. Right now, for him, the thing - a dragon or alligator - is the finished product. However, I can easily imagine a sculptor using 3D printing to create the maquette for a larger piece that is then rendered full size in HiTouch - carving wood or marble, sculpting clay, whatever. No doubt this is one area in which AI may have an impact. 

 So, AI and other digital tools will undoubtedly continue to impact the way in which we create artifacts for tomorrows museums, galleries and exhibitions. But I would encourage you to keep your hand in with HiTouch as well. There is something uniquely satisfying in the creation of artifacts "from the hand of . . ."

 So why consider these categories? There are external and internal reasons. Externally it makes sense that for us, as receivers, evaluators or purchasers of contemporary artifacts, knowing the "category provenance" of the artifact is important in determining its "credibility" and/or "value." The "category provenance" of an artifact is not the sole determinant of credibility or value, but it is an element in the equation. 

 Internally, as creators, we need to consider the options presented by each category, and how each resonates with our creative intent and sensibilities. How does creating in each category feel? Each has its strengths and drawbacks. I seem to be in a Hybrid phase right now, but have spent time in HiTouch - drawing and sculpting, and in HiTech - some early classes in coding and some time in photography darkrooms messing with chemicals, exposure, dodging, etc., and some physical editing of film - cutting and splicing. 

 Each felt quite satisfying at the moment. I encourage you to play with all of them.

Schrag Family History

 Hi There -

When we were at Schmeckfest ["Taste Festival"] in South Dakota last month, my cousin Dean [your uncle - once removed] tried to find a cassette tape deck to play the recording of the interview his brother Delbert [father of Katherine, Megan, Barbara, Janet and John] did with their father - your great-grandfather referred to as PJ - Preacher John. When you see PJ refer to "grandfather," they are talking about your great-great-grandfather.

Dean never could get the tape to play, but this transcript was eventually made. I'm going to clean it up and add clarification where I can. Some will remain a mystery for us all, but I felt you needed to have a copy.

My "clarifications" may themselves seem confusing, but since the tape didn't play I can't hear the various voices and the transcript and original recordings were undoubtedly a bit strained given my grandfathers age when the recording was made. I welcome any corrections!

Location: You may have to pull up a map of South Dakota and Kansas to find the specific places mentioned.

Definitions:

A "section of land" was a square mile - 640 acres. So 1/4 section was 160 acres. For comparison: The national median for new single-family homes is roughly 8,456 square feet (about 0.2 acres)

The names Allen, Delbert, Paul and Silas refer to your grand uncles - the brothers of my father - your grandfather.

Abbreviations;

g-gf = great grandfather

g-gm = great grandmother

g-g-gf = great-great grandfather

g-g-gm = great-great-grandmother

Here we go:

This tape was made in the summer of 1962, in Marion SD., in the home of our parents, Rev. JohnJ. A. Schrag, and our mother Katrine (Miller) by son Delbert. In 2019, son Allen put the swiss-German used at times into the English language.

First question asked.

Delbert: Did the Schrag's come from Russia?

PJ: Yes we did. Some also came from Germany and Switzerland. Did not know from what city.

Their group went direct to Yankton SD. Lived in Gayville for two years. I (dad) was born there and my brother Pete. From there we moved to where Allen lives. That was open to file claims.

[Putting This together, gave me(Allen) some off my own ideas. They must have had 4 people that could apply]

[This is my Uncle Allen talking]Their were no roads. A wagon trail was even visible when I worked the land. Dad [PJ] said that was the trail that led to Yankton. When roads and sections were made, I think this is the way claims were recorded. Grandpa: [g-gf] NE ¼ of Sec 30, Marion Township; Joe: NW ¼ of Sec. 30 Marion Township; Andrew: NE ¼ of Sec. 29 Marion Township. And Anna: SW ¼ of Sec. 20. This puts allthe land 3 miles south of Marion, split 3 ways.

The first house grandpa [g-gf]  built was a. sod house,built close to what we called the old granary. That could have been the house dad's [g-gf] older brother, Andrew, built. Dad [g-gf] was 10 years old when he plowed with the oxen. He also broke sod for some of the sod houses. Next was a stone house. That was located where Dean's garage is now. Our folks [My grandparents - Dad] were married in 1905 and built the house where we younger ones were born in 1907. Now Dean and Lori live there. [On that land.]

This seems to repeat information from above.

This tape was made in the Summer of 1962. Delbert Schrag interviews his father, Preacher John (P) and his mother.

Delbert: Did your dad [g-g-gf] come from Russia?

PJ: Oh sure, from Russia.

Delbert: Where from before Russia?

PJ: I don't know from Switzerland...Pennsylvania; those that were in PA were from Germany. His [Here he is talking about your great-great-grandfather] group came to SD.

Delbert: Did he come to SD direct?

PJ: In two years in Gayville. I am born there and Peter also. Those were the two that were born in America. The others were all born in Russia. [Here again he is talking about your great-great-ancestors]

Delbert: Did he [Your g-gf] build the stone house? Was that stone house on the home place where Allen now lives [This is a little confusing. Dean and Lori now live on the land that was "the home place." I think Delbert was mixed up here.] or across the road?

PJ: The stone house was exactly where the summer kitchen is standing now. [Knocked down to make way for Dean and Lori's home]

Delbert: Grossvater [Literally "grandfather" Your g-gf, I think] the land that is the old home. Before the stone house.

Mother and Dad [Your g-grandparents] don't agree.[I think Delbert is saying] That across the road, that is where Andrew, one of the older brothers built.

Mother: [Your great-grandmother]They broke the sod with the oxen to built the sod shanty, the other house was built across the fence. (Delbert: which we now think is the south Marion "Road)

Your Granduncle - once removed Allen says that there was no road there yet. He remembers when it was threshing time they had a big prairie there. There were wagon tracks that the folks said went to Yankton.

Dad's [Your g-gf, but I have no idea who the folks being discussed are.] sister, Bulger's wife, [I'm guessing this is still your g-uncle Allen talking. He stayed in SD farming, so might have a better knowledge of the history.] Anna, her quarter would have been directly north of Andrew's quarter, that is why those trees were there - you had to plants so many trees, to make a claim. Andrew built a house there and put in the trees. There were 3 quarters there, close by.

She [Perhaps your g-gf's sister]. was on her dying bed and she told her family, that she has a brother in SD by the name of Joe. So they wrote a letter to Joe Schrag, Freeman, SD. It ended up by the other Joe Schrag. They brought it over to Ben [Perhaps the author of a small orange paperback I have on the Schrag family] and Mildred Schrag. They said, we have a letter [from?] her [Mildred?] and we don't know who it is.

The Juckleys' [No idea] figured it out they talked to My dad (Preacher John) [your g-gf] and he said of course. He said, [Your g-gf speaking] I wanted to go. Uncle Pete [Your g-gf's brother] refused to go along. So I don't know, there could have been some bad blood,. I was still in school, so I drove them there. I know what work means. Day after day I plowed with oxen at the age of 10.

Allen: I remember in those days you could not move the blower He (Dad) [Your g-gf] worked on the pile, spreading the pile out, he worked for 50 cents a day. the Well-driller, welder and jack of all trades. His Dad,[Your g-g-gf] Joe, Ben Juckley continued the trade.

D: Wasn't he older? Mother [Your g-gm] Susan was born here too. (We question that as PJ always said it was just he - PJ b. 1877 and Peter b. 1875 born here She was the one that stayed over to Peter and Marie.) Daniel and Katerina were born in Russia.

[Not sure who made this comment] 160 acres was the government grant for homesteading.

Allen: Daniel ended up in Yankton. He was trying to understand scripture and lost it! I wonder if they did not have the whole half mile going to the school house because she says 160 acres.

Mother: [your g-gm] Andrew never got married. She talks about moving a barn.

Allen: Andrew died before dad and mom got married. Daniel died young. I took that barn down. There was an old barn to the north -a lean to, that was probably the one they moved. That is a good possibility, that makes sense. That was really an old one.

Delbert: did you remember when granddad died? [your g-g-gf] 1906?

Mother: [Your g-gm] 1908. Edna and Emma [my aunts] were small when Dad died. She talks about Felix [My father, your grandfather] is first born in the Stone house.

Allen: The house Dean [my cousin] took down, was built in 1907. The folks got married in 1905. Delbert says he does not remember Grandfather Schrag, [Your g-g-gf] (d, 1915) | remember Grandfather [g-g-gf] coming over with a team of horses. But Dad's parents [g-g-grandparents] must have died before us. Paul and Silas [My uncles] must have remembered something. Paul was born in Kansas. That was when Dad [g-gf] went to Bethel College after he was appointed minister of North Church.

Delbert: Do you know how old granddad [g-g-gf] was when he died?

PJ: 82

Mother [g-gm]: 85

PJ: No, it was 82

Mother [g-gm]: two years in he was a helper with the hogs.

Delbert: Dad [g-gf?] was on the farm all his life then?

PJ: yah

Delbert: They were a higher class. It wasn't right for you to marry?

Allen: the Millers were considered upper class. They had a little extra money. He donated the land for the North Church and the Cemetery. The Schrag family were of a lower class. There was a question as to whether mom and dad should get married. There was 9 years difference between mom and dad. Her Dad gave permission when Dad was going to be a minister - that helped.

Delbert: Isn't that right dad? Didn't they used to think they were better? Didn't grandfather [I think this must refer to your g-gm's father] object?

Mother: Age was probably the biggest concern,

Allen: She was around 18 which was one of the concerns.

Delbert: Did not they come from the old country? A different section?

Mother: [Your g-gm] I really don't know.

PJ: My dad had 900 dollars, and Mary only came no Freni ( Delbert: the two families are getting intermixed in this discussion)

Allen: It seems to cover both mom and Dad's families. [The families of your great-great-grandparents.]

Allen says PJ preached in high German. Some of these words are in high German,

Mother: the grandfather 84? [g-g-gf] My father? [g-gf] 84-85?

Delbert: who were some of the first people to come to this community? Was your dad [g-g-gf] one of those?

PJ: Yes, he was some of the first. But some went to KS

Allen: Some of Dad's first cousins were in KS. I remember Chris Gerhing; we knew his as "Kleine chris" he was kinda small.

Delbert: Dad had some brothers that came with him too.

PJ: They landed in NY and then from there they went to SD. Jacob Vetter is mentioned. (so we think he was naming the honorable men who came with him.)

Allen: Vetter is a distinguished way of saying some one's name. More of an upgrade to their name. Jacob Vetter, It is used among the ladies too.

Stella: [My Aunt Stella, Delbert's wife.] Was great-grandpa married when they came across?

PJ: Oh, yes.

Delbert: Dad and Uncle Pete were born

Mother: [g-g-gm] and Susan

Delbert: your grandfather did not come over? Did he stay in Russia

PJ: no, no, he was dead already. Gross vater and Grossmater.[g-g-gparents].. Jake Albrecht. He could write a book

Allen: Dad and Menno Albrecht [not sure:-)]- when they first went to Bethel, they went by bicycle. The roads were dirt and gravel. After dad [g-g-gf] married they went by car. It was just Emma and Edna stayed here. Dad and Menno went to Bethel for the school term. Paul was born in KS. The girls stayed with mom's relation.

Pete Albrecht was Menno's Dad. Once dad [g-g-gf - "elected" means received the pastorship of the North Church] got elected, he wanted to get more education. He served 'til 1908 until 1934's. Early on, the community recognized his leadership in the church.

Delbert: a family tree

PJ: Yes, a family tree.

Allen: I heard dad [g-g-gf] preach many times. One Sunday in German, one Sunday in English. Dad preferred to read the scripture in German because he said it was so much clearer, then he would translate the meaning to the congregation.

Mother: [g-g-gm I don't know what this date refers to.] 1899.

The Upside of Trump's Presidency

So I was browsing through the NY Times, making my way to play the Connections game when I stumbled across a link to an opinion piece about Trump called "Easily The Worst President in US history."

"Well, duh," I thought. "Took you this long to figure that out?" I couldn't resist clicking on it.  Go ahead and click the link below the picture if you want. Weird and depressing. But what's new?

https://www.nytimes.com/2026/04/21/opinion/trump-legacy-history-presidents.html

Alright I know I shouldn't have subjected myself to that. I mean I had already crowned the guy "Worst President Ever" a long time ago. But the piece did put all the reasons in one place; the war that we're not supposed to call a war, the price of gas and, well, everything - like eggs, the crippling of science research, the interference in colleges and universities, the ballroom, the triumphal arch, enriching himself and family, the alienation of our allies, adding his name, and his cronies to the board of, The Kennedy Center, weaponizing the DOJ to attack anyone outside the MAGAsphere, ICE, and the above touch of megalomania. And the beat goes on.

I shouldn't have gone through all that again. It's like watching news videos of plane crashes. But it is like a scab. You know you shouldn't pick at it. It will just make it worse. But it itches, so you pick at it. And while I can't make it worse, I did get to wondering if this scab of a rogue presidency could have a silver lining, some good news for my grandkids. I came up with one. But to understand it we have to take another jaunt in the WayBack machine:

Target: Europe

Date: May 8, 1945. The day World War II ended.

Zooooom!

OK, here we are. The specific location doesn't really matter. Everywhere you look you see - well, mostly rubble, refugees, poverty and hunger, the remnants of once thriving countries, all the flotsam and jetsam of the war Hitler visited upon Europe and beyond. We could hang out here and get depressed, or we could jump back into the WayBack machine and take a short hop forward to 1948, and the birth of the Marshall Plan.

The brain child of Secretary of State George Marshall in 1947, the plan aimed to help in the recovery of European society that the war had left, as mentioned above, crushed by poverty, and hunger. While a significant humanitarian effort, the plan also sought to restrain Soviet influence in Europe. And it was largely successful and, over the next decade, also created strong economic partners, and opened markets for American products.

Somewhere in the History Channel's series The Men Who Built America is a relevant quote - maybe Rothschild or Rockefeller? Maybe Carnegie, the elder advising his son?  - that runs something like "When there is blood in the streets, buy land." The idea being that chaos and disaster, like those visited upon Europe at the close of WWII, can also bring opportunity to those wise enough to see it.

It strikes me that it is going to take years to repair the damage being done by this sadly demented President and his blindly sycophantic followers. But he is an old guy, and once he leaves the scene and his mystical appeal dissipates, it seems likely the pendulum will, as it historically does, swing back towards sanity. And as that reversal - hints of which may even be seen in the upcoming midterm elections - evolves there will be opportunity for those wise enough to see it.

I would not advise my grandchildren to seek those opportunities in the political sphere, where chaos seems the norm. I would, rather, suggest that they consider those areas in which MAGA has done the most damage: science, medicine, the law, the arts, the environment, education, agriculture. It seems likely that opportunity will exist and grow in all those areas as the remnants of those historic strengths that survive the next few years will re-establish themselves and hopefully fuel the recovery of our battered nation.