self-archive part seven
Eating lunch at "my" desk: Which is really a volunteer workstation. I am pleased to have it. I arrived here at 10:30 am here today which means that it takes an hour to get to here from where I am staying. I look forward to when I will be staying in North Beach and the commute won't be as long. However, I am not complaining - my commute to Evergreen from my lil' home is 1 hour 20 minutes. So it certainly beats that. Today, upon arrival Abe Landis was waiting for me. I heart Abe could be the next tattoo I get. We shall see.
He grew up in New York speaking only Yiddish in his home and living in the same borough as Feynman and other assorted soon to be genius scientists. His family immigrated here from Italy and Eastern Europe. He thought I was Russian or potentially some other Eastern European ethnicity. Many people do, and I have gotten "Are you Romanian?" a lot. It never stops surprising me. After telling him my ethnic heritage we were off, into the exhibits. To begin with he walked us over to color exhibits to prove to me how subjectively we experience color. There were about four different ones that he took me to while explaining rods and cones. I realize the subjectivity of color is much more serious than seeing mauve and a weaker shade of mauve: i saw purple and the children around me saw yellow. Purple and yellow aren't even related! Abe's big point was that the Exploratorium is more a place for conceptual art rather than just a science museum. And that this is where the trick is. He discussed that while inventing a coating for aerospace crafts he stumbled upon the perfect coating the (a flouro-carbon) to use to preserve paintings. What people had been using before this eventually caused disintegration of the art work in question. So let's give a big "thank you Abe!" for all his hard work. Then we walked around some chicken embryos, electric generators, and many a happy child. At the electric generator (human powered either with foot crank or foot pedal) that humans are only capable of powering 100 watts by ourselves. We sat down at a bench and he told me about his childhood and his journey of being a scientist. He used to shine shoes to make the transportation fair to go to the Brooklyn children's museum and the science club events. He is a gem, a true jewel-of-my nile type. As I sit here typing there is hammering, children screaming, and whirring sounds. It is a very loud place. And according to Abe, someplace where after you have had a long career in science you get to rest and see yourself. Another thing he said, was that Michelangelo's "David" is the closest thing to a human anyone could ever get out of marble. That children are marble waiting to be sculpted into themselves under the guidance of teachers and parents. He still remembers the name of the teacher who got him interested in science. All of this has been a very interesting thing for me. I used to be a science-y kid. I was in science olympiad in elementary school. I wanted to be a marine biologist for a long time. Did anyone else see "Voyage of the Mimi" in sixth grade? I did and it fascinated me. It seemed as if I could combine my childhood desire to be a mermaid with my pleasure in being useful and travel the open seas listening to whales and eating peanut butter. I quit being a stellar science student once math became so intertwined with science. Life science was always very interesting, but when I got into chemistry and they made me buy a $90 calculator that I couldn't figure out how to use, I quit caring. I did have a interesting science teacher, but it was one of those scenarios where I felt stupid and wasn't used to that so quit trying. I then went into theater making costumes and doing makeup and remaining engaged with literature. I had almost entirely forgotten that I used to be really into science. What comes around goes around, or insert other cliche. After having such a self-reflective moment I ran upstairs to type this all down and eat some lunch before continuing on.
He grew up in New York speaking only Yiddish in his home and living in the same borough as Feynman and other assorted soon to be genius scientists. His family immigrated here from Italy and Eastern Europe. He thought I was Russian or potentially some other Eastern European ethnicity. Many people do, and I have gotten "Are you Romanian?" a lot. It never stops surprising me. After telling him my ethnic heritage we were off, into the exhibits. To begin with he walked us over to color exhibits to prove to me how subjectively we experience color. There were about four different ones that he took me to while explaining rods and cones. I realize the subjectivity of color is much more serious than seeing mauve and a weaker shade of mauve: i saw purple and the children around me saw yellow. Purple and yellow aren't even related! Abe's big point was that the Exploratorium is more a place for conceptual art rather than just a science museum. And that this is where the trick is. He discussed that while inventing a coating for aerospace crafts he stumbled upon the perfect coating the (a flouro-carbon) to use to preserve paintings. What people had been using before this eventually caused disintegration of the art work in question. So let's give a big "thank you Abe!" for all his hard work. Then we walked around some chicken embryos, electric generators, and many a happy child. At the electric generator (human powered either with foot crank or foot pedal) that humans are only capable of powering 100 watts by ourselves. We sat down at a bench and he told me about his childhood and his journey of being a scientist. He used to shine shoes to make the transportation fair to go to the Brooklyn children's museum and the science club events. He is a gem, a true jewel-of-my nile type. As I sit here typing there is hammering, children screaming, and whirring sounds. It is a very loud place. And according to Abe, someplace where after you have had a long career in science you get to rest and see yourself. Another thing he said, was that Michelangelo's "David" is the closest thing to a human anyone could ever get out of marble. That children are marble waiting to be sculpted into themselves under the guidance of teachers and parents. He still remembers the name of the teacher who got him interested in science. All of this has been a very interesting thing for me. I used to be a science-y kid. I was in science olympiad in elementary school. I wanted to be a marine biologist for a long time. Did anyone else see "Voyage of the Mimi" in sixth grade? I did and it fascinated me. It seemed as if I could combine my childhood desire to be a mermaid with my pleasure in being useful and travel the open seas listening to whales and eating peanut butter. I quit being a stellar science student once math became so intertwined with science. Life science was always very interesting, but when I got into chemistry and they made me buy a $90 calculator that I couldn't figure out how to use, I quit caring. I did have a interesting science teacher, but it was one of those scenarios where I felt stupid and wasn't used to that so quit trying. I then went into theater making costumes and doing makeup and remaining engaged with literature. I had almost entirely forgotten that I used to be really into science. What comes around goes around, or insert other cliche. After having such a self-reflective moment I ran upstairs to type this all down and eat some lunch before continuing on.
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