DID I FORGET TO UPDATE?

Did I forget to update? Oops. It’s summer, after all. Work at Williams has been going fine, for those interested. I don’t get to pump recently living rat brains full of preservatives like some people, but I do get to torture bacteria in all all manner of ways. Tomorrow I get to explain to the department exactly why I’m doing so, over pizza. I played wiffle ball today. Wiffle ball is rather un-Ken-ichi-like (MAKE THE HYPHENS STOP!!) thing to do. The last time I played wiffle ball was freshman year, when I realized I suck very badly, and therefore dislike the game intensely (failure makes me grumpy). But lo and behold, this time I realized that I still suck. Which is funny, since I used to play hockey and tennis, so you’d think I’d know how to hit things with sticks, but instead of making the ball go anywhere other than past my whishing bat, I just end up looking like a gay Jedi. I suppose and cave and admit it was nice getting out and doing something with my friends other than living near them. I did not do my jumping spider dance. I don’t actually have a such a dance, but I did do an imitation today in lab whilst attempting to describe said spiders, and certain parties demanded an encore during the game. I do not do requests. Even when Jacob threatens to de-pant.

(Warning: self-absorption, sappy and poorly written at times, peppered with moaning) I spent the last two nights watching the Phantom Menace dvd, which has oodles of documentary stuff that makes me question some of the very few fundamental choices I’ve made in my short life. Well, just one really: not going to art school. I sort of seriously considered art school in high school, but eventually decided against it because I figure I could never be creative on demand, for consistent periods of time. And that’s still true. I’m at my most creative when I’m doing uncreative work that I don’t want to be doing, in the middle of the semester when I have exams and papers and assignments and reading and nasty weather. That’s when I turn to my sketch pad, or having trouble sleeping because I think of story ideas that I never write down, or start diddling with Photoshop. At times like the summer, when I have no pressure and life is great, trying to be creative becomes frustrating. Nothing I do is good (enough), and the process is never pleasant. I end up reading or watching movies, or scraping years off my life expectancy playing Tekken. I’ve written about this nonsense before, of course. What do you do when art is a relief, but not a joy, a release during labor but a labor during release? I can just imagine myself receiving some design commission, and immediately delving into the mind-numbing intricacies of my tax return in search of byproduct inspiration. I thought about that in high school as well, and that’s why I chose to do science, even though I didn’t know what science was at the time. I enjoyed computer programming back then and fancied myself something of a naturalist (as in someone who likes the outdoors, animals, and plants, not some philosophical wanker), so I figured bio, environmental science, or comp sci would be the way for me. And there’s no doubt Williams has revealed in me a true interest in the bizarre and unthinkable complication of living systems. There are certainly questions in science that hold my interest, and could possibly hold it for a lifetime, but they’re all very big questions. Does life exist elsewhere in the galaxy and what’s it like? Can we colonize other planets (I’ve already decided we should)? How can one characterize, assess, study, and possibly manipulate the microbial portion of an ecosystem, and what’s to be found (lots, I should think)? But my sense is that science is generally more nitty gritty. Right now I work on a much, much smaller scale. I study a potential promoter in a single operon within a particular bacteria, and I’m asking very specific questions about the regulation of that promoter and the conditions under which it’s active. It’s very interesting work, and I’m grateful to have it as my thesis project, but I have trouble seeing a big picture. Granted, similar systems exist in other species, some of them seriously pathogenic, and my work could potentially contribute to a fuller understanding of this system, but I wonder if I’ll be able to look back at the end and say I really contributed something. That’s what I like about art: completion. Obviously, not all art is like this, but my favorite part about art is looking back on a finished product. A few flaws, maybe, smudges, nicks, but done, behind me: proof. Discrete, unique proof. Science, though, is a continuum, a grand Mississippi to which you add a drop at a time. When you stop, the field continues, and even when understanding has been reached, second-guessing remains,and the questions never end. That’s part of the appeal of science, actually. Wait, contradicting myself….*poof*