The Human Brain

weighs an average of 3 pounds in a man and two pounds, twelve ounces in a woman. It is the size of two clenched fists held tightly together.

The capacity of the human brain has been expressed as the number one followed by 6.5 million miles of zeros - a number so large that it would stretch from the earth to the moon and back again more than thirteen times.

Going Strong.

Many things are moving. Fast! I am caught up in a new life that lays all around me. Currently, I am reading a book called Letters to a Young Poet and I couldn't have been found by this book at a more perfect time. My first weekend I found a craigslist advertisement for a free stuff give-away and ended up carrying a plastic bag covered arm-load of books home with me through the rain. Among these titles was this book by Ranier Maria Rilke. The author encourages a young man to embrace the trials of living in this world. Everyone is alone but people seem to forget that the aloneness is what actually allows us to grow. I am not alone in my life. Many people care about me and love me, yet still I live in infinite space of possibility. Tonight I saw a man that works at the Adult Education Center where I take my art class on the street and approached him. I introduced myself. The interesting thing I learned today from Mr. Rilke is something about risk in life. I combined this with principles I recently learned about the evolving brain and thought about risk. What is taking risk in life? Thought processes and thought mechanisms in the brain are thought to be adaptive. People, genetically, possess rules and guidelines for thought and interpreting the world. Our brains have evolved certain capabilities that are seen in many people. Binocular vision, language and syntax, emotions... Everyone has them because they evolved. And what about risk? I thought today that it was healthy for us to experience risk because our ancestors experienced it everyday. We feel good when we do something challenging or possibly risky because we have minds that are created to use risk to grow. I grow.

On sunday I went on an Epic trip to the beach, literally and figuratively. I forgot how much I love my road bike. I love it so much. And how empowering is it to pick up and ride to the beach? Wow! So much energy.

I thought you would appreciate my friend I met near my new house in Cambridge. I took a picture of him for you.




I then went to fix my bike...



...before the Epic trip!

Hello from Boston, MA!

Today was my first day of work at my new job. To be direct, I am filling out my W-4 tax form right now (which, I just figured out [all by myself!] is to tell the govm'nt how much money to take from you so you don't have to pay them later and be screwed) as a non-dependent. Oh yes.

Why does this always have to be about me? This blog, I mean. Perhaps it is because that is all I really know about right now. I know that I enjoyed my first day of work today. I know that it took me about 50 minutes to get there today. I know I had to walk up a long, gradual hill for 15 minutes after I got off the bus and then was really sweaty, flustered, embarrassed. Embarrassed that I forgot my passport and my belt and my lunch and had no tax forms with me. I forgot my pen in the human resources department. A dream, a whirl of novelty today.

New faces, new people. New laboratory. Its like being away from your parents for the first time! Different protocols, roles, habits, like different dinners, kitchens' silverware drawers, smells. I have a new desk, no longer by a window but by a fume hood. I spoke for an hour with my new professor today about science, asking questions, trying to follow, getting overwhelmed but nevertheless feeling satisfied, leaving the office with a stack of reading material. But this was all good! I feel at home, appreciated. I look forward to being there tomorrow.

Reeling.

"Variations on a Fragment by Trumbull Stickney"

I hear a river thro' the valley wander

Whose water runs, the song alone remaining.

A rainbow stands and summer passes under,

Flowing like silence in the light of wonder.

IN the near distances it is still raining

Where now the valley fills again with thunder,

Where now the river in her wide meander,

Losing at each loop what she had been gaining,

Moves into what one might as well call yonder.

The way of the dark water is to ponder

The way the light sings as of something waning.

The far-off waterfall can sound asunder

Stillness of distances, as if in blunder,

Tumbling over the rim of all explaining.

Water proves nothing, but can only maunder.

Shadows show nothing, but can only launder

The lovely land that sunset had been staining,

Long fields of which the falling light grows fonder.

Here summer stands while all its songs pass under,

A riverbank still time runs by, remaining.

I will remember rainbows as I wander.

-Mr. John Hollander

And now, encroaching the sea.