First, YES. Accept that creativity is a skill, not a genetic or divine predetermination, and that with practice you can get better at it. All you really need are effort and persistence. Persist! Please. I am begging you.

I appreciated hearing Jim talk about why he doesn’t send his kids to school. I can remember being in 6th or 7th grade, maybe even 5th grade. I can remember that once a day we got to go either to art class or music class for an hour. We didn’t get to choose, it’s just that those two activities were deemed not important enough to do both every day. And in those two places, I had a break, and space to breathe, and something joyous that I loved to do, and while I did them, the things I was learning in the more academic subjects got a minute to percolate around my cranium and associate with other things. I am telling you, I knew these things were happening in my head. I could feel it. Art or music hour always went too fast and then we were back listening to lectures or reading out loud from books or drilling our spelling words or pounding chalk out of erasers or whatever else we had to do.

I remember deciding, right in the middle of an economics or civics lesson, when my mind began to wander and I involuntarily started to hum that song we learned in music class, that instead of being a writer when I grew up, I would be an art teacher. Because I could see that I needed more time and encouragement doing creative tasks. I could tell it actually helped me learn the other things faster. And made it all much more fun. I could literally feel the droning on and on killing my soul, that’s what I thought at the time. I could see the solution, and I wanted to help.

I eventually did become an art teacher, sort of, but for college, not for elementary school. I do still feel like I’m helping, especially when students tell me that my class is the one they look forward to because they can play. They have no idea how much I can relate. Anyway, every semester I hear people tell me they aren’t creative, or artistic. My purpose in life becomes proving them wrong.

I liked Tim’s example of the coffee filter box, depicting creativity’s problem solving side. Also his example of the logo he saw in the urinal…. Since he shared that, I can share that he reminded me of my first trip to New Zealand. I had to buy supplies for “that time of the month,” and found that they had done something with sanitary napkin packaging that no one in the U.S. had the sense to do. Maybe the problem the Kiwis were solving was cranky PMS, or maybe they just wanted to make the whole experience more pleasant. The packaging was pretty, boldly colorful and playful, not pastel and clinical (and U.S. products are starting to go that way). And the little protective strip that you peeled off the adhesive was printed with jokes. Hilarious jokes! And the occasional fun fact or bit of philosophy. It made me almost look forward to changing a pad, just to see something new and funny instead of sitting in a bathroom thinking “ugh, ick.” It was like someone had combined feminine hygiene and Bazooka gum. Take notes, Kotex.

I was especially happy to hear Tim and Jim talking about the incorporation of pop culture into #ds106. I admit to being perplexed last Spring as I popped my head up occasionally to look in on what #ds106 was up to. I didn’t understand why people were doing animated GIFs of films, or four icon challenges summarizing films, or mashups of random album covers using images that weren’t theirs. I wasn’t considering that the point might be to practice doing something creative, or to learn how to make an animated GIF. And I wasn’t looking close enough to notice whether someone was actually using a GIF to make a comment on no more digital facelifts like Stella Meme did last week. From a distance, I saw disjointed riffs on pop culture fluff, and, like Tim says of reality TV, I saw no value in it.

Now I see that it’s play, and practice. It’s marks with chalk on paper as you learn technique. And it’s more, if you want it to be. If you want it to be, it can be layer on layer of art and commentary and riffing off one another, call and response in a great chorus. And, this is probably key, our #ds106 work isn’t necessarily supposed to be fully understood out of context and from a distance, the way I was looking at it. It’s a creative community, not a person working in a vacuum.

This is a really different approach to digital storytelling than I take when I teach it. I follow more of a Center for Digital Storytelling model. I spend several weeks helping students scratch a personal narrative out of their heads before starting working with digital tools. We literally sit around a circle and tell each other stories to develop them. We give each other feedback – non-verbal reactions while listening to a story, and verbal feedback afterward. We form a creative community, too, one where lifelong friendships develop sometimes. Then we move on to recording audio, and putting together book and video versions of our stories, supporting each other as much through the technical process as through the creative development. It’s hugely fun. Here is the first digital story I made following this method, in case you’re curious.

I’ll say right now, I don’t think my way is better than what we’re doing with #ds106. But I will say that I do still value the personal narrative aspect. Or maybe that term is too confining, because I also enjoy the personal snippets, the little expressions of the now, the micro stories, even if they last only an instant. I got into this media literacy / digital storytelling / art making stuff because I am mostly sick to death of mainstream pablum produced by people with a lot of money who have something to sell. I am not nearly so interested in watching you make a four icon challenge summarizing a movie like, say, Friday the Thirteenth part 666, as I am in learning more about who you are and watching you explore your interests. The more you that you put into your #ds106 work, the more I will love it.

And that’s the best thing, the thing I love most, about listening to Tim and Jim discuss #ds106. Part of what motivates me to teach digital multimedia classes is that I really want to hear or see something unique for a change. It’s about damn time that higher education, heck, all education, stopped wholesale ignoring that we don’t need gatekeepers anymore. We don’t need some film or music (or whatever) producer with a fat wad of cash and a slew of investors to greenlight what we have to share. We don’t need committee approval. We don’t need anyone but us to decide that it’s good enough, and to make it, put it out there, and let our work find its audience. We just need ourselves. And I really want to see and hear this stuff. Our stuff. Not another vapid sitcom or remade movie. Not another infomercial or staged reality show. Just you, your ideas, your voice, your experience, your art, your stories. Get to it, everybody.

@DailyShoot – #ds586 – “Make a photograph of two complementary objects arranged to show their relationship to each other.”

My daily shoot today isn’t all that visually. I admit to being tired, cranky and possessed of a terrible headache. But I’m really excited about the two objects!

I made my study abroad students this little pocket sized field notebook to use for brainstorming and sketching during our trip to the UK. It contains digital camera tips, digital photography tips, and a bunch of writing prompts, drawing prompts, photo assignments and even a few audio assignments. I also had these “Trust Your Story” silicone wrist bands made. They can be used to keep the notebook closed or worn as a reminder to create every day.

You may be wondering why I made a physical paper notebook for a digital storytelling course. I could give several but I think it comes down to the fact that our brain is hardware in our physical body that is out there experiencing the world. Sometimes writing or drawing is a great way to get past creative block, and it will work even if there is no power outlet nearby. Any drawings or collage work done in the book can be photographed or scanned later and become digital.

I completely freeze up when I’m asked to read an essay or watch a long talk and respond to it. I don’t really understand it. Part of me just doesn’t want to say something stupid that proves I missed the point. Part of me has too much to say and gets lost in how to decide which is the most important bit.

So I decided to make the graphic above instead.

As a teacher I’ve tried to pull away from what Gardener Campbell referred to as higher education’s “digital facelift”, finding Blackboard / Blackborg / BlackBored oppressive and restrictive. Learning Management System? Whoever invented that term has never seen the way I take notes. And something in me has always rebelled at the thought that anyone other than me could create a system I could use to manage my own learning, much less anyone else’s. Each learner has to learn, their way.

I’m really passionate about media literacy / digital literacy / information literacy – can we just pick a term at some point? I get really bummed when I hear Michael Wesch talking about how most new media is still a one way conversation, despite the immense participatory potential, because our collective skills are so low. I like the idea of moving toward “meta-media fluency” and “digital citizenship.” But I’ve often been dumbfounded at how often people block themselves from moving in this direction because they think they can’t or that it’s too hard.

I guess my graphic above is my takeaway from the whole round of reading and video-watching assigned. Don’t hesitate. Make something and share it. Talk about stuff someone else made. With them. Make something together. Just jump in and pull. Pull like hell.

My friend Linda is retiring from full-time teaching this year. To help celebrate, my friend Rachel and I made a digital story for Linda.

We were asked to create a video about Linda’s impact on the Australia/New Zealand Study Abroad program, which Linda and Rachel created as a result of their work with Digital Storytelling. Rachel and I realized the story could not just be about the international cultural exchange program, that it needed to encompass the power of storytelling as well. To get a look at the big picture, so we could distill it, we tried to map out, on a whiteboard, the entire series of events that culminated with an international exchange focused on indigenous culture. There were too many events, though, so we mapped what felt like the truly essential pieces.

We could easily have made an hour-long documentary film with all the material collected over the last ten years or so. Linda went on a sabbatical where she traveled the world interviewing storytellers. Linda and Rachel have taught Digital Storytelling classes for several years, impacting the lives of hundreds of students. They also teach the process to faculty, sometimes with my help. And the international exchange has been ongoing for the last four summers. We’ve also hosted at least four return visits. The metaphor of ripples helped us distill this material, and the impact of Linda in particular, to its utter essence, and into this 5-minute story.

We both felt it would be inappropriate to narrate, and instead we chose to let the stories do the talking. We excerpted them, but did not edit them, which means we left the voices and visuals intact. We added a bit of text, and some beautiful photos to accompany our words. We connected the dots of “aha” moments and experiences. We chose not to worry if anyone else “gets it.” This video is for Linda, and she gets it. If you feel it as a summation of years, instead of a linear narrative, you’ll get it.

When they exhibit their pieces later this semester, I’ll be sure and let you know, with video of course, so you can see what came out after the molds cooled.

Update: I found an article about last year’s pour in which Ted Uran describes the process. Check it out: Iron Pour turns scrap metal into art at SCC.

So this year, Ted gave me plenty of notice and I showed up an hour before they expected to have pourable iron. I brought the hubby and we both bought scratch blocks for $10, and t-shirts for $15, because they help the sculpture students raise money for cool stuff they want to do. Several local schools pool resources and talent to pull this off – it looked like we had people from Arizona State and Northern Arizona Universities in addition to Scottsdale Community College folks. A whole bunch of people show up to see the students pour their iron, and in the darkening evening it’s really quite a show, all flame and sparks and glowing molten metal.

Anticipation ran high, and the supportive crowd burst into applause when the first ladle was charged. But of course, the audience doesn’t always understand what’s really going on, as you’ll see.

Thanks, Verdi!

Meanwhile, final projects have been turned in for my Intro to Computer Graphics class. I need to grade for three classes, which means this is just about all I’m doing for the next three days. Grading.  Welcome to my world.

If you like the music, check out more tunes by Something Explosive – they license their songs under Creative Commons, and they’re cool!

The video script with a bibliography is available in PDF and Word Document formats. I also posted a Barringer Meteorite Crater photo set on Flickr from my visit to the crater. The video is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.o License and can be embedded elsewhere by using the Share tool at Blip.tv.

Anyway, we went briefly to the As-Is Yard, which is what Joe Willie calls the Goodwill Clearance Outlet at 17th and Villa Streets. I was cautioned not to pull out my camera inside, so you just see the outside, but you’ll see some of the stuff we found there later. We ate lunch at the Ranch Market, where I was mesmerized by the decorated ceiling fans. Then we went to Joe Willie Smith’s home and studio, where we did nothing but gawk, jaws dropped, at his overwhelming creativity. Oh, and he gave us all lucky marbles.

Music: Lil’ Rooster by Gringo Motel from podsafeaudio.com. You’ve heard it here before, but it really fit this video.

Luckily, the press release generated some interest and was picked up by the Arizona Business Gazette. I was interviewed by reporter Alison Stanton on December 4, and her article was published yesterday. She was nice enough to email me and let me know.

I’m looking forward to Tuesday, January 2, when I can go see whether the article had any immediate effect on enrollment.

The class is based on Jen Simmons‘ course – many thanks to Jen for permission to adapt her syllabus. And thanks to Dale Doubleday, Art Department Chair at Phoenix College, for her support and forward thinking ways.

This video was shot on June 26, 2006. The building in the background is part of Puniho Pa in the Taranaki region of Aotearoa (New Zealand). The mountain you will see is Taranaki himself. Enjoy the view!

This video shows some of the drive from Wellington to Otaki, and a few photos of what we saw there. Jo Tito, who drove the van for us, took the photos, not me. The music is from a CD Noah bought called New Zealand in Song, but I don’t know who the artists are. I picked it because the length was right, and because we felt very welcome at Te Wānanga-o-Raukawa.