Consistency
It seems pretty typical that the hardest part of accepting a promotion within a corporation is losing the old job duties. In hopes of circumventing that Catch 22, Hubs facilitated the hiring of a brilliant, young communications specialist to take over management of the company phone system. Alas, geniuses are seldom good teachers. The brilliant young man keeps making clever changes that befuddled the smartest of the smart phone users without so much as a warning that the changes have been implemented. Hubs has been the company phone guru for long enough that he is the one who gets the calls from confused staff members dealing with even more confused clients. The Appy Days trickle down effect? Right/wrong, good/bad, smart/stupid, etcetera/etceteri? Fuck if I know or care. Just let me know what to expect when I wake up in the morning. A few similarities to yesterday's FUBAR would be sweet.
My computer career and psychotherapy were concurrent evolutions. The computer career facilitated the psychotherapy in which I have placed my faith in to help me escape the psychotic residue of child sex-trafficking. I amnae at all certain which set has changed more radically since the early 70's when I began the concurrent evolutions.
The desire which brings both evolutions to a single Faith Crisis this morning is the desire to bring my photography works to their next evolution. GD (2) has marveled at the education she has received from my insect photos. She wants more. The water drop series I was working on when a printer app rearranged my entire photo library for social media readiness have yet to see the print out end of their printer calibrations. The photos from my year-long funeral pilgramage sit captive in the nearly obsolete software of my digital camera. The camera hardware is still fully functional, but. . . Oh Appy Days. . . Ain't connectivity grand?
Venting. . .
Replies
Technology can be bulky when you least want it to be. Hope the inspiration outweighs the set-backs. Sounds exciting!
Prayers in progress. . .
In the mid 90's, when the current internet chaos was taking off, I watched a movie called, "Surviving Picasso," where Anthony Hopkins portrayed Pablo Picasso. Not much of a movie, but as the internet marketing grew more and more invasive in my art studio, I began imagining how Anthony's portrayal of Picasso might have reacted to art supply salesmen invading his art studio, emptying all his drawers and telling him his art supplies were out-of-date and all needed to be replaced. "Anthony Picasso" was born and now uses his "obsolete" art supplies as creative torture devices on said art supply salesmen. New and improved uses for brushes and linseed oil are possible, if you insist, my Appy Dears.
Then we get to the insistence that art studios belong on the social media superhighway. . . Here Appy, Appy, Appy. Anthony has more creative notions to try on you. . .
Sigh. . .
I'm fine with the technology. It's the 5 minute marketing wonders who have me ready to . . . get creative. Pop up on my canvas, will ya?
In recent years, the setbacks have been *winning*. Well, App it all. . . Vent, vent, gnarl, gnash, gnash, gnarl. . . May I put your smart phone where your personal smarts should be, my marketing chief? Pop goes the App for that.
I am a technology simpleton so I sure hear ya..... I am in awe of the tech smarties.... I have a dream of being a hacker..... xo
Evil grin. . .
We'll be watching for you, Jan. I have no doubt you could pull it off.
Just keep it out of my art studio. Pretty please.
Ha..... I will I promise.....xo
me no like techno crap lol
Me no like techno crap all the more for the feeling that it be my life's work. Am I being melodramatic to wonder if this is how Einstein felt after he watched his vision of cheap, clean electricity for all explode over Nagasaki and Hiroshima? Or would that be, "Delusional?"
Look what they done to my song ma
Look what they done to my song
Well it's the only thing
That I could do half right
And it's turning out all wrong ma
Look what they done to my song ~Melanie Safka