What's missing -- feels like there's something missing -- The capacity is there -- the job's not stressful but I somehow fail at the ignition stage - all this fuel just sitting around -- un-utilized potential How do I light that fire? Set it ablaze in a daze caught up in the haze of comfort I need to challenge myself, raising tides lift all boats, but they also drown livestock cows, horses, and goats, seeking refuge in hills that once covered in grass now fill up like lifeboats. Doctors in white coats say "Keep your spirits up" -- hope floats.
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Two weeks ago, I went down to San Luis Obispo, California for a five day Jupyter team meeting with about twenty five others. This was the first such meeting since my return after being away for two years, and I enjoyed meeting some of the "newer" faces, as well as catching up with old friends.
It was both a productive and an emotionally challenging week, as the project proceeds along at breakneck pace on some fronts yet continues to face growing pains which come from having to scale in the human dimension.
On Wednesday, November 9th, 2016, we spent a good chunk of the day at a nearby beach: chatting, decompressing, and luckily I brought my journal with me and was able to capture the poem you will find below. I intended to read it at a local open mic the same evening, but by the time I got there with a handful of fellow Jovyans for support, all of the slots were taken. On Friday, the last day of our meeting, I got the opportunity to read it to most of the larger group. Here's a recording of that reading, courtesy of Matthias Bussonnier (thanks, Matthias!).
November 9th, 2016read more
The lovely thing about the ocean is that it is tireless It never stops incessant pendulum of salty foamy slush Periodic and chaotic raw, serene Marine grandmother clock crashing against both pier and rock Statuesque encampment of abandonment recoiling with force and blasting forth again No end in sight a train forever riding forth and back along a line refined yet undefined the spirit with which it keeps time in timeless unity of the moon's alignment I. walk. forth. Forth forward by the force of obsolete contrition the vision of a life forgotten Excuses not made real with sand, wet and compressed beneath my heel and toes, yet reeling from the blinding glimmer of our Sol reflected by the glaze of distant hazy surf upon whose shoulders foam amoebas roam It's gone. Tone deaf and muted by anticipation each coming wave breaks up the pregnant pause And here I am, barefoot in slacks and tie experiencing sensations of loss, rebirth and seldom kelp bulbs popping in my soul.
I'm switching jobs.
For the past two years I've been working with the great team at Disqus as a member of the backend and data teams. Before that, I spent a half-dozen years mostly not working on my thesis at UC Berkeley but instead contributing to to the scientific Python ecosystem, especially matplotlib, IPython, and the IPython notebook, which is now called Jupyter. So when Bloomberg reached out to me with a compelling position to work on those open-source projects again from their SF office, such a tremendous opportunity was hard to pass up. You could say Jupyter has a large gravitational pull that's hard to escape, but you'd be huge nerd. ;)
I have a lot to catch up on, but I'm really excited and looking forward to contributing on these fronts again!read more
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Standing impatient, platform teeming, almost noon Robo voices read off final destinations But one commuter's already at his He reached for life's third rail There is no why in the abyss There's only closing credit hiss The soundtrack's gone, he didn't miss Reaching for life's third rail We ride on, now, relieved and moving forward Each our own lives roll forth, for now But now is gone, for one among us Who reached for life's third rail We rock, to-fro, and reach each station Weight shifting onto forward foot Flesh, bone ground up in violent elation And bloody rags, hours ago a well worn suit I ride the escalator up and pensive About what did and not occur today Commuter glut, flow restricted A crooked kink in public transport hose resolved.
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I walk in monologue through Berkeley's Hills Feet pressing into sidewalk firmly I eat the pensive mood solitude brings And bite into the juiciness of self-reflection I write, first time in years, free verse impromptu Taking few dozen steps between each pair of lines I yearn, on tip-toes stretching high, to be expressive A mode of being longtime self-denied I'm walking home - from job I'll soon be leaving To find myself believing once again That which I do defines me not and feeling That which I am is good. enough. a lot.
I want to thank Curt Siffert for granting me permission to use his song "All Aboard (v2)" which you can download (for free) here. This is the first video ((yes, okay, it's more of a slideshow with an intro, but my brother Mike told me that Ken Burns would be proud)) I've ever made, but I've wanted to make films for as long as I've been writing ((creatively, which would be 1999 - warning: link contains some extremely cheesy content, including an early version of what evolved into this journal)) (even before Sally said "Hey guys, I'm going to make movies!" and then did), so I'm glad I've finally started.read more
From my paper journal:
23:37 May 10th, 2007 Thursday
So what good is all of this if we don't engage one another - on a very real level? "Only a Sith Lord deals in absolutes," man - so let's get off the condescending trips and the polarizing anti-discourse. Let's use our full range - zero, one, two, five, seven, eight, ten, etc and not just on or off - there's an infinitude of wonder in between and out in every dimension.
I resolve to hesitantly dip my toes in, from time to time, instead of being all in or all out. Talk to a beat stranger - but not every beat stranger. Give up some left over food to the guys on Bancroft and Telegraph (the Shattuck hobos are too hip for me - but I hope they aren't for someone else -- I know they aren't). I can just eavesdrop on the world from time to time - I can't always be wide-eyed gulping from the fire hydrant of information flowing at 100 terabits per second eyes glazed over passed out exhausted gasping for a sense of self disoriented head-spun hours or days later. Just a drinking fountain or a tap and a few cups or liters a day would be fine. No need to parch yourself and dry up like a raisin all the time. It's ok to wrinkle and shrivel - and you don't need to burst, either - just be uncomfortably sincere.
I think I'm going to try that.
Related brief thought:
17:36 June 22nd, 2007 Friday
Bumper Sticker Activists (Telegraph in Berkeley)
The last thing we need is more Bumper Sticker Activism. Wearing a clever T-shirt does not constitute civic participation.read more
- 2007 05 30 life
goddamn google just doesn't know what to do with itself, anymore.
Oh yeah, feel free to drag the little man around the blue highlighted streets, and then rotate / zoom in the overlaid photo. Here's the official demo (cheesy video).In San Fracisco, almost every street is completely covered. They also did much of Mountain View, Palo Alto, San Jose, and all of Manhattan, that I've checked.
worst. planning. ever. (...and I don't buy their propagnda - next to the green arrow on the map above, you could be on N W Temple, between W N Temple and W S Temple [or is it E S Temple?])read more
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