Train of thought

I am writing this on a train heading to Newark airport to pick up a friend. Actually, I am dictating this on my Android phone.

When I am on a flight, I don’t really think about the fact that I am hurtling around the Earth at some incredible speed. The distances involved are simply too great for my poor human brain to encompass.

But on a train, I can actually see the trees and buildings and roads go by. I remain acutely aware that at every moment I am at a different location.

In my mind, I imagine the words in this blog post spilling out behind me. Together they form a trail that marks the precise location where each moment of thought occurred.

We are all leaving such trails behind us throughout our days, aren’t we? The stories of our lives spool out endlessly as interlocking trails, forming loops and knots and intricate patterns which tie us all together upon this Earth.

Song triggers

There are certain songs that I avoid listening to because they remind me of particularly painful breakups in my life. I don’t have this reaction to movies or books or paintings or poems or pretty much anything else.

But songs have a unique primal power, which distinguishes them from the other arts. The right combination of words and music seems to be able to reach us at some deep emotional level, cutting through all of our defenses and speaking to us where we live.

Why are songs like that? Is this connected to some sort of evolutionary adaptation? Perhaps 200,000 years ago, in the Paleolithic era, some early human heard another human singing, and mysteriously found herself beginning to cry.

Final class projects

This evening the wonderful students in my graduate computer graphics class showed their final class projects. The amazing work they produced exceeded my expectations, and then some.

I am deeply inspired by what happens when you give brilliant young people the tools they need to create something new. Especially when you also realize that the best way to support them is to stand back and get out of their way.

If you are curious, and want to read a bit more about it, feel free to drop in on our Future Reality Lab blog.

Magic Schoolbus as metaphor

As I’ve said here before, I’m always looking for apt metaphors for the future that our lab’s research is enabling. There are so many metaphors to choose from: Faerian Drama, the Holodeck, The Matrix, the Jedi Council and many others beside.

The other day, as I described our research to a colleague, he said “What you are creating is The Magic Schoolbus!” And I realized he is right.

We are giving people a way to physically gather, and then be whisked off together on a guided tour of fantastical worlds. The possibilities are limited only (as my friend Lance Williams used to say) by the imagination.

This evening I watched an episode of The Magic Schoolbus, and it was completely delightful. I won’t tell you which episode I watched, but I can say that my favorite line was “We’re up Ralphie’s nose???

Normally I would say that the future is nothing to sneeze at. But having just seen that classic episode, I’m not so sure.

Voice with cello

This evening I am thinking of going with a friend to attend a solo concert. The musician plays cello and sings.

Until today I had never heard of such a thing. The idea of somebody singing while playing the cello seems so exotic to me.

Yet I find myself wondering why I think this way. After all, I have attended many concerts where somebody sings while playing the guitar, or the piano.

What is it about the cello that makes the situation seem so different? I have been pondering this, and I have yet to come up with a good answer.

Any ideas?

A new language for visual storytelling

Perhaps the most important element of the language of cinema is montage. When a filmmaker creates a cut, and the camera suddenly moves from one point of view to another, the viewer is effectively being taken inside the mind of either the storyteller or a character in the movie.

We don’t respond so much to what happens in any one shot, but rather to the relationship between shots. Cutting to an actor’s face at a key moment can create a profound identification between the audience and the character the actor is playing.

But what will happen when shared cinematic experiences become completely immersive? When we can simply walk into the world of a narrative, will montage even be necessary?

It’s exciting to be working on completely immersive storytelling media at a time when the answers to such questions are not yet clear. These are early days, and the language of immersive media has not yet been worked out.

Perhaps we, like Méliès and Eisenstein before us, will get to create a new language for visual storytelling. Exciting times!

Mission statements

Every time I give a talk about our research and our mission, I make some kind of change. So in some sense the talk is a kind of evolving creature, growing a tentacle here, losing one there.

To do this, I generally go by the energy I get from the audience. Sometimes I feel that I have glossed over something important, and need to add a bit of connecting tissue. At other times I feel that I’ve belabored something inessential, which distracts — and therefore detracts — from the main points.

It’s a constant process of editing, and it feels very productive. Not just because it’s good to get out our message, but because for me it’s an essential part of understanding our message.

I suspect this is true for all of us: You don’t fully understand your own mission until you are able to clearly explain it to others. And at the end of the day, there’s nothing more satisfying than understanding your own mission.

One week to go

The students in my graduate computer graphics class will show their shared metaroom final projects one week from today — the evening of Monday December 16. Today several groups have been at our lab working away to get their “one week to go” preliminary demos ready.

I can feel a really wonderful excitement as they work through creating these alternate worlds. Every once in a while, a student will pull me aside, hand me an Oculus Quest headset, and say “here, try this.”

And suddenly I am in another world. But a world in which we can all walk around together with our own feet, no wires attached.

I can’t wait to see their visions of the future come to life. Just one week to go.