potentiation or college-try

Human memory and learning, as opposed to artificial means of storage and retrieval, are usually dependent—only brought to mind—on association. Though single and isolated impressions can seem, especially under sharp focus and scrutiny and when one wonders how one got there, to be thinking about that subject over another (the same with a fleeting phrase that seemed forgotten only to be recalled later and one wonders where it was hiding when first beckoned), to be quite independent entities, self-sufficient, and not part of a long chain of events (and equally as non sequitur, defying belonging or following), there is a whole entourage of attendant thoughts and recollections.

Though no measure of the content of one’s mind or character, drills in recall and rote (something quantitative) are effective ways to study how these connections weave, unravel and hang together. Cues are not exclusively semantic (mental symbols and what they denote) and drawn from experience itself, but also based on the state one was in during the cementing of the memory. I have noticed that I don’t remember my dreams very well—except when I am buoyed between sleep and waking, just emerged from another dream. It seems in those moments, the whole Parnassus returns—though not to linger for long. Research shows—and of course there is more than one way to conduct this sort of thought experiment, that those cramming for exam perform better on the actual test, if proctoring can be held in the same physical and chemical state, be that groggy, drowsy or over-stimulated with caffeine. Alcohol and designer psychotropic drugs take advantage of this phenomenon, as well. I am myself trying to study with a furor right now, and I wonder what it means that one can imagine one’s memories as a filing-cabinet, as something episodic rather than relational. I suspect that it is always richer (infinitely so, and that is where imagination, which is not just a addictive response either, and consciousness comes from, since infinite is always infinitely bigger than the speed records of brute force) to be able to triangulate into and out of context and would forego precision, always (or settling for one uniformly hazy ambiance) in order to be properly schooled.

colour by numbers

There was a radio special on the air driving this afternoon that paid tribute to gay musicians and featured a great canon of songs and genres. I had tuned to it after the introduction but I believe the programme—Queer Sounds was aired this day to acknowledge the anniversary in June 1969 (45 years ago) when East Germany, in a frank move that was not reciprocated by the West, struck down one of the old laws (the so-called infamous § 175 in the German Criminal Code) had inherited outlawing homosexual relationships.
Though West Germany had the same explicit laws on the books to, symbolically at least, repeal, it did not happen in reunited Germany until 1994, and the host pointed out that Germany does indeed lag behind most of the rest of Europe when it comes to legislation for equal rights and equal recognition, though society gladly does not need the mandate of government. Spain, France, the UK, the low countries and the Nordic nations allow gay marriage, although that decision did not come without without growing pains and a high cost, but have had icons and champions for years. The show segued into a into a number from String: An Englishman in New York (I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien) that was dedicated to an individual named Quentin Crisp, who then was then an eighty year old gay activist (and to some an anti-hero at times who'd taken his lumps and was the subject of much bullying—this was still only 1987) whom had moved to Manhattan a few years prior. I had no idea—but listening to the lyrics—“If manners maketh the man as someone said/Then he is the hero of the day/It takes a man to ignore ignorance and smile/Be yourself no matter what they say,” one realises what a fine and unhailed tribute it is.

canvas or call for submissions

Google geo-caching is making a virtual gallery out of urban spaces in an ambitious attempt to curate street art and graffiti from around the world. You can find out more about the project's special exhibitions and acquisition techniques at the link from Laughing Squid.

italy week: testing the waters

In the province of Pistoia in Tuscany, there is an ancient storied town called Montecatini, known since pre-history as a strategic stronghold, with the oldest parts of the settlement built on the high (Alto) promontory, and later renowned for its ensemble of spas.
The thermal springs were harnessed for years with the plumbing of different civilizations but evolved into their current form during the height of the Art Déco movement. There are several resorts within the city, all ornate and inviting but designed to cater to different classes, from the proletariat to the upper-crust.
This most luxurious playground is a period folly called Terme Tettuccio, with its grand porches and galleries, like a very fancy neo-Classic train-station of the age except open and with that invisible fourth wall surely for those relaxing and testing the waters to be seen by their peers and passersby in the gardens.
There are quite elaborate and old baths in Germany but none with such an airy design that we have found yet. There is also of course the therapeutic waters on tap from several fountains lining the arcade, decorated with these beautiful mosaics that suggested the different waters were ideal for the different ages of life.
 Only a few taps were open at the time and youth tasted of sulfur—and smelled of eggs a bit. There was an authentic café, cavernous and fully lined in dark-stained wood, dating from the time with all the classic fixtures and fittings of the associated culture and ceremony and we were able to enjoy a coffee in the sun.