I used to think about how blind people might "visualize" the space around them, being as how they must still perceive and remember the "thereness" and "not-thereness" of obstacles and space.
I really do love sometimes the powerful simplicity of the vocabulary that my education has afforded me: I know that I mean to call this experience a function R3 → bool. I think this is maybe what the artists mean by "form"? And obviously R2 → bool is another favorite domain, because it's where fonts live. And the subset of R2 → R4 that is nice alpha-blended color vector images... Anyway playing with 3d modelling tools lately has continued to make me strangely oversensitive to the staggering beauty of forms out in the world, the awkwardly-different-cliques-at-a-party way the ones we humans have contrived abut the plants and dunes of snow.
groen the other day, while giving an edifying monologue on Margaret Morrison (the building) mentioned as his source of knowledge a book on Hornbostel which I managed to find in Hillman. I had no idea the man was responsible for so much of the Pittsburgh that I walk in and around every day.
A Mad Mex burrito is sometimes tremendously satisfying. Now is one of those times. I feel like I am being tricked by how coarsely they cut their chicken into giant chunks, but I am ok with being so tricked.
Ran into 0436 in the evening. She was going over to Mattt's to participate in some sort of draft Magic tournament. I tagged along, but kept up my (holy crap something like 12 year long) streak of not playing Magic, and played a little Rock Band. It always warms my heart to see the Cambridge Encyclopedia of Language sitting on someone else's bookshelf.