Constructive

So I just came back from a seminar presentation, and I was bothered by the criticism I received.

Let's make this clear. I'm used to receiving criticism. Being a student as well as an artist means that there will always be people who disagree with me or attempt to correct me at every instance. I have received very, very harsh criticism before and I know I can take it.

I think what disturbed me here was that my critics weren't completely negative. In fact, they also made sure to add that I had done a good job. The issue was that they went into the details of what I had done wrong, but when it came to complimenting me they fell back on extremely general terms such as "excellent."

Artists are always asking for constructive criticism, or well thought-out analyses of what elements in their pieces were not as good as they could have been. However, implicit in the request for constructive criticism is a call for constructive complimenting as well. While I like to know what I did badly so I can change it, I'd also like to know what I did right so I can maintain it in my next attempt. The idea for constructive commentary is that enough details be given so that they can actually be acted on.

From today's seminar, I certainly have an idea of what not to do. But as for what I should do again? Not a clue. And because my compliments were not as constructive as the criticism, I got the sneaking suspicion that those positive comments were lacking in sincerity.

So if you ever comment on something? Be constructive with both the good and the bad. A more detailed opinion is always better, and your reviewee will thank you for it.

Been a While

It's been a busy week.

I've been doing restriction digests. It seems that's all I have been doing, setting up the same reaction again and again until it actually works. Turns out the first attempt was actually the best one, and fortunately I still have purified products from that one. Going to use it and move on.

Then yesterday I had a poster presentation. There's the paradox with poster presentations. On one hand you want a lot of people visiting your poster and asking you questions, because it means you did your job and your work is actually interesting. On the other hand, practically everyone asks you to "talk me through your poster." I had to tell the same story at least six times, with varying levels of detail to account for differing familiarity with the subject field. And differing character.

"Tell me about antigenic shift," says one visitor.

I stare at him. He was my lecturer for Molecular Virology last year. He was the one who taught us about antigenic shift.

"You have to be joking," I say.

Wednesday was April Fools' and nothing of note happened, which was sad. On Thursday, my co-supervisor's lunch went missing from the common refrigerator, which attracted an undue amount of attention.

Today is Saturday.

It's just another day.

March 15th, Again

It's the Ides of March. Let us have a moment of silence for the great leader who died 2053 years ago.

...

Yesterday, as before, was Pi Day. (I'm still waiting for 2016 for two more digits to that one.) And the day before that was a Friday. It's been an interesting March for numbers so far.

Saturday Morning Watchmen

Who watches the Watchmen? Kids, apparently.

No, no, it's a parody. As should be clear from all the digs at the original Watchmen graphic novel as well as all the 80s cartoon references. But as I read through the comments on it, I found that while most reviewers loved the humour, some were offended at the light-hearted perversion of a very serious story. Kinda makes you think, what with all the recent movie adaptations such as GI Joe, TMNT and Transformers. What it would have been like if the mature treatments were the originals and the goofy cartoons made up later?

Anyway, I'd totally watch that cartoon.

A Letter

Dear housemate,

I understand that you have previously led a sheltered life in which you apparently were under no requirement to take care of yourself in any way. I understand that this is a new country and perhaps you are still disoriented. I understand that some things which seem obvious to the rest of us may be utterly incomprehensible to you. Nevertheless, when I examine the household recycling bin, which I had taken the precaution to label on its lid in a large font exactly what is permitted to be entered into it and what is not, and when I find within this same bin the following items:

• Used tissue
• Teabags
• Instant noodle wrappers
• Cheese wrappers
• Eggshells
• Egg yolk
• Parcel packaging indicating your full name and address
• Bank letters indicating your full name, address and account number

When I find these same items within a bin reserved for recycling, I am forced to conclude that you are severely lacking in common sense, and are perhaps illiterate as well. I would argue that you are also deficient in a sense of responsibility, a postulate reinforced by the mess left on the toilet floor as a result of your faulty aim, and which you apparently do not feel the necessity to clean up. I would propose to hold a grudge against you for such behaviour, or plan some form of humiliating revenge, except that it is clear to me that your carelessness will bring you much grief at some point in the future when you should reside amongst less tolerant and honest persons. Therefore I will continue to delve into the recycling bin, tear up your sensitive mail and scrub the floor with Dettol, knowing that there is no greater punishment than what your own stupidity will eventually inflict upon you.

I remain, with regards,
Your housemate.

Music

Long ago, people would ask me what songs I liked. Some of these people were teachers. I hated that, because that meant I had to come up with a correct answer. And as someone who was raised on wordless music, there was no correct answer. So I'd just pick a decent-looking piece and claim to be desperately in love with it.

Even now, a great deal of the music I listen to is wordless. Much of it is background music from video games and movies. I think there is something about background music, which is manipulative and uninterrupting at once.

That not make sense? Good. Stop asking about my favourites. I like many things.

On another note, what is the proper thing to say if someone asks how you are? I usually alternate between a vague non-committal reply, and accurately describing my current situation.

Ants

About a million of them, to be precise, cutting a thick path from under the front door all the way to the dustbin, where apparently some banana peel interested them. Eradication involved large amounts of water and soap, complete rinsing of the dustbin and removal of the offending trash to the garbage centre.

It seems that the hot weather is driving the ants to seek food indoors (yet another reason why I can't wait for winter). I might probably have to draw lines of baby powder, coffee, vinegar or peppermint oil, and see what keeps them out. Worse come to worst, I could always keep the dustbin standing in a basin of water. I hate having to kill them. Besides having to commit mass-murder, the corpses are annoying to clean up.

Now spiders I can live with. Come to my house, spiders. I have some ants for you.