Because I like to Be Prepared, I will be showing up with two Polaroid cameras, chic sunglasses, and the all-essential pocket computer iPhone loaded with both Foursquare and Gowalla (to stalk my friends as efficiently as possible).

I hope I have enough film.

Last week, to follow on from the discussion of atemporality, I started sort of an essay/rant about the future being a fictional construct, the non-linear nature of “progress”, and how making and remixing intersect. I haven’t felt inspired to shape it into something actually readable, so instead, how about some music and photos?

Above is a song I wrote with the KORG DS-10 cartridge on my Nintendo DS (RSS reader folks, click through to see it).

I also made something I’m calling an atemporal dance mix (my mom says it’s good for cheering yourself up, too).

To finish, here’s Mudshark reprising his role as a furry creature from beyond.

Two bits from the talk that I especially like:

Refuse the awe of the future. Refuse reverence to the past. If they are really the same thing, you need to approach them from the same perspective.

and

Why not designer fiction as life? Why not role-playing games in real spaces? Why not become the change you want to see?

If, for instance, you think the future should offer ‘personal space flight’ – perhaps you are an enthusiast for that? – why don’t you just dress up as an astronaut? Just invent the whole thing, just go out and carry it onto the streets! Just invent the Jezz Bezos Blue Origin spacecraft, make your own spacecraft suitcases, spacecraft astronaut gear.

Yes, you will look ridiculous. But by what standard? By what standard can you be held to be ridiculous? Why not just go and make yourself a personal public testimony for a future that doesn’t exist? Why not just carry it out with a kind of Gandhian dedication, and see what happens?

I’m still trying to figure out what sort of future I would want to personally embody. Gala Darling already has this down with her psychedelic ladies who lunch—her “style direction” is more of a lifestyle movement. Steampunk comes from a similar impulse, merging the aesthetic with a desire to make functioning things that should exist in a steampunk universe.

In other news, I’m still sick but finally enough better that I can go out in public without people giving me the “keep your plague over there” look. We went out to dinner at Bamboo Sushi on Saturday. It was delicious, and I’d like to go back for happy hour sometime soon. We live so close it’s silly we didn’t check it out sooner.

Here’s a shot from the start of the film roll.

Here’s one about 6 frames in, taken a day later.

A similar thing happened with a roll that sat for a couple of years (!) from the first shot taken, to eventual development a few weeks ago. One of the first frames:

A shot from the end of the roll (note that the blurriness here isn’t grain, it’s camera shake because I accidentally switched the Holga to bulb mode):

A (slightly less expired) roll of black and white had the opposite progression. Here’s a shot taken last November:

Followed by one shot in January:

My theory about the color film is that the outer layers of the roll, which are used first, had more exposure to heat and thus more color effects. I don’t know why the black and white roll seems to get grainier toward the end, though. It only sat in the camera for a couple of months, and wasn’t exposed to any extreme temperature changes in the meantime. Just a fluke, perhaps?

I read three books: Matter (which I liked very much), The Merchants’ War (it’s okay, but I have major criticisms of the whole series—at this point I’m just reading to see how Stross wraps it up), and Style Deficit Disorder (which is about Tokyo street fashion from the 1970s through mid-2000s). The last one makes me want to stockpile issues of Kera for an extended browsing binge.

Also some knitting: I all-but-finished the gray cabled sweater I’ve been slowly working on (just needs buttons and blocking), started something else, ripped it out, and finally started another project I’m calling the silk racing jacket for now.

Add a lot of coughing, napping, staring at the wall in exhaustion/boredom/ennui, watching the Olympics with the sound off, and periodic attempts to get work done, and that’s my week.

Things you don’t learn about photography when you only do digital: it’s sort of like Schrödinger’s Cat.

I’ve been getting some nice results with the Fade to Black film in my SX-70, though. And Lucas dug up a OneStep camera for me, so when they start making 600 film again I’ll have three different Polaroid cameras to play with.

It’s fun when it works.

A few minutes after taking the photos.

About an hour later.

The first photo, a day later. You can just barely see the remains of the image. This one is now taped inside a window, trying the suggestion that Fade to Black photos can be bleached out to reveal more of the image again.

The second photo, finished. This one I peeled open and let dry for about a day before taping it back together and scanning the image. The front image and the back foil don’t quite lay flat now, giving the image the appearance of depth. It’s a neat effect, and one I’d like to play with more. Maybe I could reassemble the photo with some sort of spacer keeping the layers apart?

I really love the colors of this film. It’s a bit more work to capture the result at any point in the development, and if you open the photo to stop the development process, that’s it, no going back. But I like that photography can still be this hands-on, messy thing, not completely measured and precise. It feels good to muck around and see what happens.

This is a sketch I made on my phone (using Brushes) at the pdx.rb meeting while Igal was talking about why he uses rcov. His code example involved kitties, so obviously kitties love rcov too.

This is a polaroid I took while walking around my neighborhood on … Thursday? I finished off the Artistic-TZ film pack I had in the SX-70, so next up is a pack of Fade to Black film, which does exactly what it sounds like, over a 24-hour period after the photo is taken. The scans I’ve seen online are pretty neat, so I’m excited to try it out for myself.

I also did a few things like go to the Open Source Bridge work session, and fix a couple of setup instructions in OpenConferenceWare that I found confusing. And I watched the Superbowl with friends, though honestly I’m a much bigger fan of Puppy Bowl. I think the mass appeal of watching puppies and kittens run around in circles must say something about human nature, or western civilization, or something like that. But I don’t know what.

2. Squint at the included directions for attaching your new Polaroid back to the Holga camera. Squint even more at the directions for loading the film. Make a guess as to what the photos are indicating, and fiddle with it until everything appears to be in place.

3. Take a picture of your cat in what you hope is bright enough light for the film ISO. Pull the photo out of the camera in a complicated process involving a little paper leader strip, and a film door that’s hard to pry open even with fingernails.

4. Remember that using peel-apart film probably means that there’s an optimal length of time to let it develop before opening, and fumble for the film box to find out what that is. Glance at the time. Try to guess how long it’s been since you removed the film from the camera. Give up and open it a minute later.

5. Wonder why there is no cat in this photo.

6. Decide that low light levels are probably the culprit, and sprint outside as soon as the gloomy winter weather breaks into sunshine.

7. Fail to pull the film out smoothly, feeding it instead into the little slot the paper tabs (which tell you what number print you’re on) are supposed to come out of. Open the camera to clear the jam, crossing your fingers you haven’t exposed the entire film pack to light.

8. Hope that aggressive cropping will be enough to keep the picture from being a complete waste.

9. Spend some time reading Flickr forum threads for tips. Decide that you’ll just try to get over the minimum development time and not worry after that, since it’s the only way you’re going to be able to take pictures outside (needing to let the opened prints dry flat on a clean surface is kinda limiting).

10. Go outside and take more pictures.

11. Conclude that no amount of wishful thinking will convert “bright overcast” into “direct sunlight”.

12. Watch the weather forecast anxiously, hoping for actual sunshine to occur.

13. Run outside during the next available sunbreak. Finish off the pack of film.

14. Admire the imperfect, unexpected results.

Last Wednesday I attended the Open Source Bridge 2010 Town Hall meeting. This year’s conference will be happening June 1-4, at a Portland location that should be announced shortly. You can see a full recap on the OSBridge Blog. Ed Borasky also recorded a video of the main presentation.

Speaking of, here’s Ed doing his best Nixon V-for-victory impression.

More highlights:

The call for proposals will be open shortly (“early February”), so stay tuned for the announcement by following @osbridge on Twitter and joining the mailing list.