Current location: Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA
Reading: Mistborn: The Final Empire by Brandon Sanderson
Listening: Right Back To It by Waxahatchee and MJ Lenderman(if you have a moment, reply with your own 3-item status via email or in the comments)
Marble
The Illusion of Explanatory Depth, sometimes called the Bicycle Problem, refers to our tendency to assume we know more about something than we actually do.
That second monicker is derived from an example commonly used to illustrate this bias: most of us think we understand how a bicycle works, but if we actually had to map out all the parts and how they fit together, with specificity, the majority of us would fail to do so.
We feel like we know how a bicycle works, but (beyond the superficial) that feeling is an illusion.
The same is true of many things, not just bicycles.
An illusory sense of self-knowledge is perhaps even more common (and pernicious) than engineering-related understandings, in part because few of us invest the time and effort necessary to develop a holistic appreciation of who we are, what we care about, and what we believe, but also because such issues can be nebulous and thus tricky to concretely convey.
I find that writing helps with this, as committing formless thoughts to definite language forces me to lock those ideas into place, rather than allowing my brain to rearrange things as I consider them, lending hollow of conceptions the veneer of sense.
It also allows me to assess those ideas once they’re thus fixed, to work them like a block of marble, slowly chiseling away the bits that don’t make sense, that I don’t truly believe, and that upon reassessment are pointless or joyless pursuits.
This is part of why jotting down thoughts and arguments and ideas on a regular basis can be so fulfilling: it helps us hone our overall communication skills, but it also provides us with opportunities to present, question, and edit our thinking within a less-biased context, and in which a spotlight is pointed at (previously concealed) flawed and incomplete conclusions.
This is true of longer written works, but journaling, writing letters, and briefly presenting our ideas about whatever comes to mind (as a blog or essay) is arguably one of the better habitual writing investments we can make, as it forces us to embody our otherwise fleeting thoughts, tangibly confront them, and over time grow comfortable hewing, chipping, gouging, and smoothing them until they become accurate portrayals of our internal selves.
Interesting & Useful
“This is the largest repository of antique silver, souvenir and collectible spoon information on the web. There are over 4000 spoons pictured, thousands of links, and about 500 different exhibits.”
I’m a Luddite (and So Can You!)
A fun graphic novel about Luddites and why some people are pushing back against some of the most whizbang tech of the current moment.
Tens of Millions of Ink Dots Fill Xavier Casalta’s Remarkably Detailed Stipple Illustrations
“It took Xavier Casalta a phenomenal 2,300 hours over the course of 15 months to complete his largest work to date. Featuring numerous blooms surrounding a marble bust of Marcus Aurelius—one of ancient Rome’s most celebrated emperors and philosophers—the artist estimates that the illustration contains about 48 million dots of meticulously stippled black ink.”
Outro
I’ve just returned from a roadtrip to Flint, Michigan where my girlfriend had a gallery show and artist talk, and where we were able to meet some denizens of the local art scene, check out some shows, and generally enjoy the (dense and walkable!) downtown area.
I had to set book-editing aside for the duration, but I’m already jumping back into that process, which is feeling good in the “chiseling shapes that actually look how I want them to look from raw stone” sense of “good.”
Taking any trips (tiny or gigantic) in the near-future? What are you working on these days? Tell me what’s been up, or take a moment to introduce yourself—I respond to every message I receive and would love to hear from you :)
Prefer stamps and paper? Send me a letter, postcard, or some other physical communication at: Colin Wright, PO Box 11442, Milwaukee, WI 53211
Or hit me up via the usual methods: Instagram/Threads, Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, or virtual tour of paintings from the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam.