It took me 5 minutes to make a cropping tool using a ruler, pencil, and a piece of black paper. How long would that have taken me in the virtual world (using the existing environment and paradigm of making)?

This raises another question. What's the equivalent of a ruler, pencil, and a piece of black paper in the virtual world? What's the precise translation?

I find it quite interesting that when I'm building things in the physical world, I'm constantly aware of how strong the structure is. By mere touch and the application of pressure I can get an immediate feedback on that helps me better understand the integrity of the structure. Why can't I do that with software?

I just realized that I had bought exactly so many pieces of paper, because I thought I knew exactly how many polygons I needed to make the final form.... without realizing that there's no guarantee that each polygon I make will be of sufficiently good quality for use.

This shouldn't be surprising. After all, this is why the idea of quality management arose in the factories back in the days. If I make 10 polygons, I may have to throw 3 of them away because I smeared glue on it, or they don't fit quite well.. basically, because they are of poor quality... So obvious... why is this surprising to me? I don't know why, but it is.... I need to think about the reason...

Is this because I'm used to making through programming, where each instance of a program is of the same quality as another? Has this tendency affected other aspects of my everyday behavior? What about the way I think? Is the idea of redundancy and tolerance fundamental to making physical things? Then why does it seem fairly exotic when making software? Is there an assumption being made about the nature of software in terms of its relationship to the idea of tolerance and redundancy?

I have just learned through the grape vines that a fellow Carnegie Mellon alumni Susan Eitelman Dean has passed away last night of a massive stroke.

I didn't know her personally.

Normally when a fellow alumni, whom I have no personal relationship with, passes, I may feel sympathetic to them. I may even ponder for a moment the fragility of life.

While I didn't know Susan personally, I had one short exchange on a linkedin board for CMU alumni members some 3+ months ago.

The thread was talking about Raul Barreneche, a CMU alumni who traveled a rather unconventional path through his life to achieve success.

Hearing his story inspired me to want to share my own. But it was the beginning stage of me embracing my own vulnerability, and mustering up the courage to tell my own story to the public. Having never done that previously in a public forum, it was nerve wrecking. As a matter of fact, I felt shameful, because I felt self-indulgent. Who am I to assume that other people will be interested in my story? But I went ahead and pressed the "Add Comment" button to share the story of how I have come to realize just how arrogant I have been for most of my adult life, willing to take the risk since it was among fellow Carnegie Mellon Alumni members.

Susan: Great posts. I follow a similar multi-faceted path -- Mechanical Engineering & Psychology double at CMU, a Masters in Industrial Engineering focusing on simulation-based training, and a career that continued to cross-cut those fields on a regular basis.

Special thanks to Seung for his post, though. In the past year, I've been challenged to figure out what I really want to do when I grow up. I have a plan in the works, and it veers widely from Engineering, Psychology, and all the other things I did in a traditional job. (It's too soon to mention what I'm doing publicly yet. 2012 Is going to be interesting!) Many of the things you shared resounded with my experience -- hiding behind knowledge, being overcome by anxiety trying to figure out what to do before trying anything.

So, Seung, thank you, more than I can fairly express here, for your post. Sometimes I do wonder if I'm crazy for trying on the different hats that I have (and will continue to) try on. This morning before seeing your post, I had a moment where I realized that even if everyone else thinks I'm crazy for trying on this next hat, that I feel ok if they label me crazy (on the other hand, it's a nice challenge -- to show them this is going to work!). Reading your post galvanized my confidence: I have to try on the hat. It's just who I am. :)

And thanks to all who have shared their unique paths. It's really comforting to hear all of the different ways our fellow Tartans a blazing unique trails! Keep it up! :)

And I replied casually

Slim: Oh, wow, thank you, Susan. It's so wonderful to hear that there are others that resonate with the story.

Stay beautiful, Susan. Always! :)

May there be trust, love, and hope on your path.

What's probably not obvious is the subtext of that first sentence: "Oh, wow, thank you, Susan".

Neither "wow" nor "thank you" can adequately express how much courage Susan gave me in that instant.

She gave me the courage to keep telling my story, and to keep working on the project. I felt so much gratitude for the fact that she made me realize that telling my own story can indeed be valuable to others.

I am so grateful for your kind words, Susan. You will be dearly missed. May you rest in peace.

The following is an exchange I had with friend who is a PhD candidate of theoretical physics, which I thought modeled beautifully what it means to realize empathy.

Mike Park:

I wanted to make a comment about your video. To be honest at first I disagreed with the thesis. To me, it seemed at first like your definition of creativity was overly restricted by claiming empathy to be the more fundamental entity. After all one can in principle be creative without interacting with others. Then I realized that in fact it was my definition of empathy that was too restricted by couching it as something that happens between two people. Then I realized that what you were saying was very true and insightful. Then I realized that this process of the realization was exactly what you were talking about.. that made me chuckle to myself. So yea I thought that was cool and shareworthy

Slim:

Can you talk more about how you came to those realizations?

Mike Park:

So when i first heard the thesis i disagreed. One of two things can happen when i hear something that sounds wrong to me. If the person saying it is someone that I dont respect I just assume that they are wrong and move on with my life. if the person saying it is someone that I do respect, then I assume that they are correct and I try to figure out why it is that I cannot see the truth in what they are saying. So I tried to think of a counterexample to what you were saying just to isolate the source of disagreement. This turned out to be "creativity cannot come from empathy because empathy means trying to see things from another persons point of a view and creativity can in principle be generated without human to human interaction" So I looked more into your stuff and then came across (I forget where) you saying something about how a carpenter building something is empathizing with the materials. And then it kind of clicked like "ohhhhhh okay I'm not using a broad enough definition of empathy. It is certainly useful to extend the definition beyond human to human interaction and then the statement becomes true"

It's also a testament to the importance of humility and respect in gaining a new perspective. Without either one of them he would have just moved on without ever attempting to dig deeper into the meaning behind the idea.

It reminds me of this essay on the virtue of scientific humility and also this one by W. Horsely Gantt.

Yesterday, I did an interview with Cath, a grief coach, talking about making and designing.

Throughout the interview, she kept telling me how remarkable it is that much of what I propose as a new direction for design can be applied to her own practice as a grief coach.

It is really striking to see how subjectless design and making is. By subjectless, I mean you can complete the following sentence with whatever you choose:

I design ________.

Or

I make __________.

Yes, I've always known this. But ever since I've taken this project to the public realm, the feeling is getting deeper than ever before, and it is empowering me to interact with disciplines I never dreamed of interacting with... There's still so much to learn. I am beyond grateful.

One of the questions that lead me down the path of starting this project, was the simple question of "Why?"

Since I was working in the field of Computer Science and Interaction Design, the question initially took the form of:

Why am I designing software and
computer products?

It's also how I began the last presentation I gave at RISD, where I talk about the intersection between Art, Computer Technology, Design, Craft, and Humanity:

But there was a pivotal moment in the project, when I realized that this was not merely a question for designing software and computers products. 

Instead, this was a question for design in general. It was to question what it means to make something. 

I would like to share that story with you today.

It was 8 o' clock in the morning, the 4th day of day of my graduate school experience. I was on the 2nd floor of ProvWash Foundation classroom, looking around, nervous. I was surrounded by a group of students 12 years younger than myself. I knew them by reputation. Rumor had it that they drew amazingly realistic bicycles. I imagined their sketchbooks filled with beautiful drawings freshly rendered just moments before coming to class. I had to wonder what my skills were.

Just a year ago, I didn't know how to draw. As a matter of fact, I still didn’t.

I was telling myself that the nine years I spent practicing science, design and engineering was going to help me get through this class, when the instructor gathered us at the front of the classroom to show us how to fold paper. It looked easy. I was feeling confident. That is until she turned to us and asked us to go fold our own.

“Fold our own what?” I wondered.

It was one of those tasks that could either seem completely self-explanatory, or completely... not. Anxiety struck, but I reminded myself that I had anticipated this. This was that art school creativity thing that I had been forewarned of.

Back at my desk, I reached for my sketch book. I sketched, sketched, and sketched some more in search of a design I liked. But, after a couple hours of sketching, I ran out of ideas. Feeling anxious, I decided to skip lunch, to think of what to sketch. I brainstormed with post-it notes, mind maps, and employed all the design methods I had amassed over the years.

Time kept passing, with nary a hint of what I should fold. It was already 3 o'clock, and I was starving. All that experience I was counting on seemed almost too cruel for not extending a helping hand.

In a moment of desperation,
I decided to look around at what
others were doing.

I noticed a girl in the corner, who seemed very much focused on folding her paper. Curious to find out her vision, I left my desk for her's. Even from a far, I could see a good chunk of folded objects atop her desk. I moved in closer, excited, to get a better look. But when I did, surprisingly enough, none of the objects seemed particularly interesting.

"This is it?" I thought to myself, disappointed.

"Why does she look so confident?" I wondered.

"Hey, what are you making?" I asked. And the answer came back.

"I don't know."

The answer echoed in my ears.
I... don't... know. Just three
simple words.

"What are these other ones?" I asked again.

"I don't know... I'm just trying stuff out." she responded.

She didn’t know? How could she not know? How could her hands be moving when she didn’t know what she was doing?How could she decide where to fold and in what direction? How could she anticipate what kind of affect a fold could have on her subsequent folds? How could she have folded that many objects without knowing?

Then... it hit me like a ton of bricks. This... was what youth was. This... was what it meant to have a beginner's mindset. This was what it meant to follow your heart, to be yourself.

It was courage.

Never mind my lack of drawing skills. Courage was what I truly lacked. What I’ve been doing for a good chunk of my adult life was hide behind existing knowledge, formalized methods, and a fancy job title. I was a mere shadow of who I was, a bad imitation, at best, a closed minded, arrogant, dogmatic, "adult"... stupefied by his own experience.

I had never, in my adult life, felt like such a failure.

Even as I stand here now, after more than 3 years since I had that epiphany, thid lesson still seems highly relevant.

As I meet and interact with people from all around the world through this project, I am reminded over and over again, that the real challenge in life, is not to achieve success, gain recognition, or even blow people’s minds with amazing work...

Instead, it is to have the courage
to not let anyone convince you that you're crazy.

That just because you do not know where you're headed, just because you do not have a clear vision, just because you cannot articulate what it is that you're interested in, it does not mean that you are lost.

Do I feel certain that I will be able to do this? No. As a matter of fact, this is the least certain I have ever been. But no matter the situation, it feels remarkable to be able to admit to uncertainty, to be honest with myself. Because if there is anything I've learned in the course of working on this project, it's that when you are honest, you will resonate with people at a level you will never do otherwise. And this gives me enough confidence to keep going.

Here is my sincere gratitude to my friend, Chuan Liu, who taught me one of the most invaluable lessons on courage I have ever learned.

Thank You.

Stay beautiful. Always.

I was going to start this blog with a "Hello World!" post. So I spent the last 10 minutes trying to write a snazzy one. But I just couldn't get it to sound right—probably because I was trying to be snazzy. Not only that, but it didn't feel right to be writing that post right now.

In all honesty, all the promtional work I've been doing to publish and share my book is making me feel heavily imbalanced. I'm very awkward at promoting things I have done. People tell me I have to be able to do it, and I see why they say it. But it doesn't change the fact that at this moment in my life it imbalances me to be promoting my work.

So I thought maybe what I need to do is, instead of making this blog talk more about the project, I should spend a good chunk of time up front to sincerely thank a group of people who have been nothing but supportive in this journey I call life. That feels right to me. So I hope you will indulge me in telling some of my own stories from life.

To start it off let me share with you what I shared with my friends on New Years about my experience with an extraordinary man by the name of Randy Pausch. He is to whom the book is dedicated to, so I think it's also very fitting.

Also, if you haven't watched Randy's last lecture, I highly recommend it to you.

Dear all,

I. am. thirty. five. 

Crazy...

(I guess I still have several months to go before turning 35 in the U.S, but back home, I'm 35.)

I remember when I was in my teens, looking at my "uncles" and "aunts" in their mid 30s, and thinking to myself "holy shit, they're old!" ;)

It's funny, though, that I feel no different than when I was a freshmen in college. My parents tell me they feel like they're in their teens, too. Young/old ultimately seems to be a matter of attitude, not of age. :) Either that or I'm just reeeeally immature. ;)

Jokings aside, I was taking some time to reflect on this strange year that just passed by... The year of the two thousand and eleven...

There were years that have gone by that made me feel productive... unproductive... successful... unsuccesful... happy... unhappy... accomplished... unaccomplished... grown, etc... 

But this... is the first year that has made me feel... like a human... being. 

It's been a long time coming... and it is a scary... scary feeling. :)

But it's times like this that reminds me of the wonderful people who have deeply touched my life...

Those who have reached out a helping hand when I was in a dark place. Those who have given me the strength to keep going, to not give up.

In particular, I wanted to take this time to thank the late Dr. Randy Pausch. 

Randy single-handedly saved my life in college.

If it weren't for him, I don't know what I would have done, where I would have been, or how I would have kept on.

In college, there was not a single class that talked about why one should study Computer Science. If there were any related discussions, they revolved around the idea that the computer was the most amazing human invention ever, and that we were lucky to be training at a prestigious university at the forefront of Computer Science. All amounting to a seemingly logical conclusion: why would you not want to study computer science? After all, it's amazing!

For some reason, this never resonated with me. It just didn't.

Maybe it was my fault.

I went to college because college was something I was supposed to go to after graduating from high school. If there was any reason, I wanted to be the proverbial "grown up." I wanted to live by myself away from my parents. I wanted to live in the US, which, believe it or not, seemed like the land of dreams back then. While I certainly loved playing video games on the computer, I was never fascinated by the computer.

I struggled with Computer Science for a really long time. Everyone else in my class seemed just fine, though. In class, very few students asked questions. I, on the other hand, was filled with questions. But all those questions seemed too stupid. The questions were something like "Uh... Professor, what the hell did you just say? Was that English? I didn't get it at all." 

I couldn't dare ask such a question. Everyone else seemed to be getting it just fine. Maybe I was the only guy who didn't get it. Maybe I was just dumb. I was just too shy to risk humiliation.

Randy's class was different.

At our first class, Randy seemed to care more about whether we felt comfortable with him, than whether we were fascinated with the subject matter of the class.

It was a fairly large class, and he wanted to take pictures of everyone so that he can memorize our names. I had a horrible cold that day, and I felt and looked like shit. Being the embodiment of vanity that I am, I raised my hand and asked whether it was ok for me to take the picture next time because I didn't like the way I looked that day. And he emphatically said "Yes!" He then told the rest of the class that he was the kind of person who was ok with such a request, as if to use my question to get the other students to feel more comfortable. In retrospect, I'm not sure where I got the courage to ask that publicly. :) Especially given how shy I was in all the other classes. But, I somehow felt like I could. That was the power Randy had. He gave others the power to do things that they themselves didn't know they could.

But the most amazing lesson I learned in that class was something far more important. What he taught me was that the reason why it's worth learning Computer Science was not because Computers were amazing in and of themselves... It was because through one's mastery of the Computer one will be able to share with others their feelings of joy, sorrow, surprise, etc...

Computer was a means
to an end.

That... resonated with me... Profoundly. And with that, I became fascinated with Computers... Finally, as a senior in college. And with this feeling, it became clear that at the heart of the disconnect was how I was taught computer science, not computer science itself.

There's a korean phrase that goes "다행이다(da hang yi dah)" which uses two Chinese characters 다(多) and 행(幸). The phrase is typically translated to "That's fortunate" or more colloquially "Thank God!" But to really understand the nuances of this phrase it requires that you look a bit closer.

According to the dictionary, the word 多 is often thought of as the word for "a lot" or "abundance." But it could also mean "to recognize the beauty of", "to make abundant", "to consider important", and "to broaden one's ability to embrace"

The word 幸 is often thought of as the word for "luck", "fortune", or "happiness". But it could also mean "to experience something unexpected", "to live long", "to hope", "to give grace", "to cherish"

People often use the phrase "다행이다" when something potentially catastrophic has happened, but fortunately you are left largely unharmed. It's often accompanied by a sigh of relief.

But there's a nuance that is often left out in the translation of this phrase. And that nuance... is the feeling of utter and sincere gratitude. 

Let's say you're walking along the pavement of a busy city street. All of a sudden a large flower pot comes crashing down from the apartment above. The pot lands right in front of you, shattering to pieces less than an inch from your feet, right in front of your eyes, in slow motion, making a loud noise that projects into the streets. You are shocked, stunned, frozen at your steps, unsure of what to make of the past half a second. A passerby who saw what just happened exclaims out loud "아이고, 다행이네! (Thank God!)" But for you, the person to whom this has happend, the feeling is far more nuanced. Yes you may take a deep breath, and softly utter the same phrase "다행이다...(Thank God...)" But what you mean by the phrase gets at the deeper meaning of the phrase.

What you've just felt is the feeling of a near-death experience. The fine line between life and death. An experience that makes you realize just how wonderful life really is. Just how grateful you feel for the fact that you still have the opportunity to live another day... How fortunate it is that you can still feel the ground under your feet... How thankful you are for the fact that you can feel your chest move as you breathe... It is a feeling of utter and sincere... gratitude.

And that... is the feeling Randy gave me.

To have met Randy when I did... was 다행중 다행이였습니다... It was an unexpected experience that made me recognize the beauty in something that I was never able. And for that, I owe him my life.

Thank you so... so much, Randy.
May you rest in peace.

And with that thought... I'd like to wish you all a happy happy new year. :) 새해 복 많이 받으세요~~ あけましておめでとうございまーす。 新年快乐！(Sorry those are the only four languages I know how to say the greeting. Leave me a comment with how you'd say it in your own language. I'd love to learn your version, too!)

May 2012 be the best year yet. :)

Stay beautiful. Always.

slim