The whirring stops at half past three

Posts tagged as "artists" from the blog, technology

The whirring of course is my laptop, because I’m turning it off. I’m closing it all down and stopping work at 62% of full-time. I tried to compile all of the reasons why I wanted to do this but it was all over the place so I decided on another word-puke because I’m feeling moody.

I don’t respect Facebook. I believe that all of these targeting options we have available to get your messaging out only in front of certain audiences is a technology the world is not responsible enough to have, and no matter what Mark Zuckerberg’s intentions are with that platform that’s still a point we cannot ignore. ūüôĀ

It could be used for good, the potential is so clearly THERE but he’s missing the point. Transparency is what we need. I’ve asked a few of my friends this question:

Would you trust ads more if you know why and how they targeted you?

And most of them said, yes they would. This did not surprise me at all. I only asked like 7 people so the sample size renders that experiment unusable but I it would still stand if scaled. Advertising is mysterious. People need to know how it is decided what content is in that stream that they are always stuck in.

Mobile phone addiction this year and in the foreseeable future is going to become more and more of a problem. Already, Facebook reports¬†56% of store purchases are influenced by digital interactions and 66% of those interactions are happening on mobile. We have our heads stuck in the screen and the trend is only growing, even for our children (alarmingly, pls don’t buy your kids phones ty).

I have all of this extra time now, and what am I going to do with it? Patiently wait for the weather to get better. Frustrating, pace around the kitchen and into each room. Wait for a new tenant to take over my apartment. Wait to move all my belongings out of Eugene, then somewhere else, and to figure out whats next because I accept that I love not knowing. Going to enjoy some soft lung bullshit on youtube and appreciate the ideas of all the digital and analog people I’ve met so far.

Drank 2 gallons of orange juice this week, it’s helping with the depression. I recommend you try it, too.

What happens when you die on the internet?

technology, writing

We’ve all been there by now. It’s 2018 and this is still a process untouched by technology and its powerful ways solving for all problems, even the ones we didn’t know we had. You have a friend or family member die, the person gone forever from your life.

Facebook shows you “On this day” posts from this person in the past.

You can go to their social media accounts and see a human and his respective data frozen in time. Whatever situation or mood they were in when that last post was made is how they will be remembered forever in the digital world.

A specific tragedy that we all saw coming

I’m thinking about an old drinking buddy of mine from back in Florida. I remember one night scrolling through Facebook seeing a lot of wild posts from him, blacked out drunk and posting nonsense on Facebook. The next morning was a Saturday morning, and he posted that he was lucky he didn’t wake up in jail.

That Saturday night, there weren’t as many drunken posts. Just a tag at a bar from earlier in the evening. The next day on Facebook, I’m seeing R.I.P. posts on his wall and my heart is sinking. His body was found face down in a pool outside of the gated community he lived in. He must have been too fucked up too walk properly, and had fallen into the pool and passed out. That beaming smile and fuck-it-lets-party attitude will never be sitting at the bar downtown. He’ll never be at another house party, or Florida Gamers event. Rest in peace, my dude.

Every few days I would visit his profile, and reread his posts about waking up in jail. It would ring out to me “someone should have been a better friend” or something like that. I come up with all kinds of narratives about what happened and how shitty it was no one ever put their hand on his shoulder and told him life could offer so much more.¬† I would sit there and think about how Facebook was just memorializing him at that point in his life, and not really anything about who he was as a person.

Every time someone died, I would do the same thing. Adoringly visit their profiles, as if they were tombs in a graveyard and rereading their posts as if they were unintended epitaphs to their life.

Is there a right way to handle death on social media?

This is something society never had to think about before, but it can’t keep sitting untouched a topic. Is it invasive, to have the digital content and histories of the dead reserved? Is it public domain? Is nothing sacred? Even I don’t know how I feel about it, but the thought is constantly itching at my mind. I wonder, what is the last piece of content I will leave behind? It’s like a form of accountability. Before you post this or that, would it truly be a good impression to leave on the digital universe after you go away? Are you leaving an impact? Is it pretentious of me to be thinking so deeply about it, even?

I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I cannot wait to see the world touch on them as it grows harder and harder to ignore the fact that people die every single day and the content they produced in the past piles up.

The implications of the digital afterlife are strong when you really consider ownership and privacy of memorialized digital content.

6 months ago: a retrospective

Posts tagged as "artists" from the blog, writing

I have not written here in 6 months. That is a long time for someone with everything to lose. The things that can happen in a month would astound you. You never think about time and how it truly changes things until you are thinking retrospectively and can put in the proper perspective to realize the vast evolutions your life goes through.

The array of feelings, situations, the choices you decide to remain consistent with. The breakdowns. The feeling of fear, of regression, of being incapable.

The flowers I have grown. The smiles and tears.  The different stages of my home.

moonlake

In the last 6 months, I went to North Carolina and back twice. I drove through the foggy mountains alone and I slept at a rest stop. I walked in the woods along the highway. ¬†I turned 27 years old. I ¬†moved out of my first apartment. I lost my best friend and beautiful cat, Duchess. I’ve had acquaintances die suddenly, ¬†and lost my ability to drink and socialize. I’ve gone hunting for antiques my my home area of Florida and collected new dolls and interesting relics. I’ve concentrated on death. I’ve lost the ability to feel proud of my work. I stopped painting. I invested my time in building a garden and have grown into a love of earthships, sustainable living, and terraforming.

I got a call from a hospital in Maryland and found out my sister attempted to take a number on her life and I dropped everything and went to get her. I drove for 4 days there and back, returning to work on a Friday.

I brought her and her boyfriend, Chris into my home. We are building the trailerhome together and making it beautiful and worthy of the title “home”. Best of all, I think ¬†we are making it work. It’s such a relief having one less thing to exhaust my mind with, the safety of my baby sister is no longer one of them. I sleep sounder in that knowledge.

All in all, everything feels stable now. Everything is as ok as it’s ever been, and looks to only have potential for getting better every day.

I have so much new art and thoughts to share with you all, I sure wish I weren’t so shy.

Until Next Time,

Camille Taylor

figuring out emotions

writing

In this pretty art room, watching my cat roll around in a mess of off-white blankets and listening to Vashti Bunyan sing about feeling shy and I am looking back on the last 2 days, and the last 3 months that led to it. I learned a lot of lessons, I think we all did. I have learned:

  • It’s ok to get lost sometimes
  • It’s ok to be yourself
  • It’s ok to stress people out
  • It’s ok to love them still
  • It’s ok to fall out of love
  • It’s ok to learn to forgive
  • It’s ok to love a friend
  • Relationships will always have hard parts
  • If the love is real, they will always be there

I know what love is. Its being able to smile and laugh and have fun whether you are doing nothing or something. It is patient and sweet, it is remembering. It doesn’t hurt that much all the time, but it can hurt a lot sometimes. If it is meant to be, you don’t have to force it. You dont have to feel angry or upset all the time. You can simply exist, and even when things get stressful and bad, it is mutually handled because love is there and love fixes things if you let it.

I realized that anxiety and depression work against each other and that letting love perform its healing magic is necessary part of depression and anxiety to ,make sure two people can communicate their different needs. It is easy to fuck up. Its easy to get mad and overreact but if you put enough work into it, fixing it can be easy too.

I think everything is all figured out. I can be happy now. I kept smiling this weekend. I can smile now.

Until next time…

God is Mathematics

writing

I was talking to venus as a boy as I have been a lot lately and I’m really fascinated by him. His curiosity and enthusiasm and faith in himself and everyone and the entire world.

Dark eyes dark hurt guttural screams feral thoughts perpetual smiles and unparalleled joy.

I’m sitting here wondering to myself, “are you real?”

I told him about God and he said he prays sometimes but does not admit it to others often. I told him, yo, all religion to me is the exact same energy disguised and acclimated to all of the different entities and societies that want to lay claim to God. I am sure to measure his reaction and he gets it!!!! Exclaimed with just enough explanation points to make no mistake about the genuineness of his feelings. I can feel the smile beaming at me through the pixels in my screen and it is fucking overwhelming. Its like a violent gust of wind. It feels so nice the wind is making my hair whip me in the face.

I told him about the snowflakes restoring my adolescent faith in god, about how they are all unique and someone, some force of the world makes sure they are all unique and different and that’s Incredible to me. There is a magic out there, that is undeniable and I pray to it when I am scared. All of this that I feel, and he gets it.

The breeze.

oh dear

writing

It is March and I find that I just keep getting worse at this whole being a blogger thing but I haven’t abandoned ship yet and I just keep getting busier! I do have my fair share of excuses though. My last job did not work out as all of the clues I picked up on regarding their management practices manifested into the downsizing of a five person company. Lol.

I did not leave without something bigger on my mind, and that something bigger is what I am still working as a trial period employee for the next two weeks but you know I will write about the company and position in another post if it works out for me! I am well on my way to being a literal expert on Facebook advertising. Hell, I even had to sign up to a brand new set of newsletters ūüôā Learning things and being challenged at my job is a really nice feeling and I hope that at the very least moving forward with my life I won’t have to feel bored by what I do for a living ever again. ¬†Also, the position is remote and most everyone (if not everyone) else in the company is Italian or from Italy! It is an absolute pleasure and learning opportunity at the very least but I am hoping to see how much I can accomplish in a Saas position with them in the future.

<complain> For the new position, I had to buy a new laptop and consequently have the most annoying experience in my generally annoy-free life: buying a broken computer. After 3 weeks of using it perfectly fine (despite it being a windows 8 and thus very irritating in good working order) shut down suddenly and loudly gave me the ominous beep codes 3, 5 and 8. Over and over. Every time I tried to turn it on. Ruined an entire Friday night for me. I will try not to complain about it forever like I very well could but Tiger Direct refused to handle the issue and do a trade in. No wonder you’re all going bankrupt. Don’t sell broken hardware. </complain>

All is well, I am going to eventually get my laptop fixed and get what I spent good, hard earned money on. I have been happier! I have been challenged in many aspects of my life that had remained stagnant¬†for so long and am ready to surprise myself. ¬†Right now I am listening to an old Radiohead album remix from 2004. Old, from 2004. Look at me now, I’m living in the future. I am 25 and 2004 was years ago. This will be a beautiful year.

how do you paint the sea foam?

writing

I brewed such a big pot of coffee only to find out that there is no milk or creamer but that seems to be the way of the world, isn’t it?

I’m here again at my home away from home and I was instinctively drawn to my keyboard and my blog and I just thought to myself, “silly girl, you don’t even have a home.” Nowhere feels welcome. No one isn’t bothered by me, and I hate that about myself that I am so naturally contradictory to everyone I love and care about.¬†My love of stains and mess and disarray, my inherent shyness and compulsion to stay out of everyone’s way makes them inevitably feel like I am being passive aggressive and that is so far from the actual truth that I want to cry. ¬†I just want my own space to exist in and stare at puddles of paint of the floor and not worry about anything until I absolutely have to and get out of everyone I love’s way.

Since we last spoke, I was still an intern and I am proud to say that I flew my way on to the payroll with my company and I am excited about learning new things every day and helping this start-up become more efficient, streamlined, organized, and good in every respect. I am constantly thinking about ways to improve things, and I am learning things in a perpetual motion. I am so inspired by my roommate but I am terribly afraid of how much she dislikes who I am so I am in the process of trying to save enough money to get out of her house and away from under her skin.

So many nights pass before I feel overwhelmed enough to write, and this is very therapeutic for me. I have broken hearts, I have fallen in and out of love more times than I care to admit. I have picked so many flowers, I have gone on many walks, held many hands and kissed many cheeks. Hundreds of flocks of birds swarming in the sky together. Hundreds of cups of piping hot coffee. So, so, so very many bowls of ramen noodles for lunch and public bus rides back to my friends house where I sleep on a foam mattress on the floor and feel bad about being there. So many nights I graze my hips with my razor blade and wish ¬†had more and even more than that, nights where I am so impressed with myself for not having drug addictions or children or collapsed veins from the life I feel like I just barely escaped. We’re all just hurting and channeling our pain in the interesting and infinite possibilities of ways to channel pain. I am grateful right now. I am grateful for the black coffee I am drinking, for the vinyl copy of my favorite pixies album that my friend bought for me, grateful for the place I’ve been living for the last few months and I am grateful for my job. I will never stop striving to be better. ¬†I will never stop wondering, how do I¬†paint the sea foam?