The Art of Interactive Design – Response

The first time I ever encountered the word ‘Interactive Media’ was during my Candidate Weekend. I was at the Farewell Dinner at Park Hyatt and Pierre came and sat at my table because all the other tables were full. While having dinner, he talked about how the style of writing has changed as what people read changed (Twitter, Facebook etc.) and many other things that I found so fascinating at the time despite the absence of speaking on our – all the candidates at the table – side other than the ‘deeply-considered “Yup”‘. Although I don’t remember a lot of the things that were said that night, I remember deciding that I want to take a course in IM if I get in.

The reading made me really nod when the writer mentioned that people often mistake reaction for interaction because I am/was definitely one of them. The example of plays especially talked to me because I have a high school friend who now studies acting at Tisch. She used to tell me all the time how acting is an interactive process  –  it’s a process in which the actors and the audience breathe and perform together. I never dared to argue with her but still sometimes wondered how interactive it actually is. Not to put her down or prove her wrong, but now when she gives me the same lecture again, I can smile to myself as I now know that this smart person who wrote a book on interactivity has asked the same question.

Assignment 1

While looking through the junk shelf, I found a tennis ball and something that looked like a cardboard cylinder cut down the middle. I had no idea what I wanted to make but I decided to use them as my materials.

At first, I thought I could cut make a cardboard box and balance it on the semi-cylinder so my tennis ball can roll down. But after spending 20 minutes making a cardboard box, I found another (already-made) box-like thing. So I replaced my wonky cardboard box with the sponge box. Then I put copper tape around the tennis ball and on the middle of the slope.

Just as I thought I had finished, I started changing the position of the wire. Others working in the same room told me it looked fine but I decided to spend more time on it by taking everything apart and substituted the copper tape on the box with aluminium foil between and on the box. Later, paper tape was applied to create 3 conducting spots on the box. Lastly, after being unsatisfied with the angle of slope over the weekend, I flipped the semi-cylinder and stuck the box on the other side.

And here is a video of the finished product.

There Are No Electrons – Response

Frankly, as someone whose experience with Physics ended more than two years ago, I was glad that I wasn’t asked to read 40 pages packed with technical information about physics. After reading the ‘About This Book’ page, I became curious to find out why this book was rejected so many times that the author had to start his own publishing house to get this published.

A few pages into the reading, when I read how he explains what a jargon is, I thought it would be nice if my 13-year-old brother read this. Also, I felt that this was much better to read at 7am than the Genocide Convention. However, when I realised that it took 18 pages to introduce the concept of electron, proton and charges, I began to think that I might be wasting my time. As the knowledge couldn’t be separated from the stories and analogies, I ended up reading the entire page, only to find Amdahl say “You don’t need to know any of this to study electricity. I just thought it was interesting.” – I felt almost betrayed.

Although it did not provide me the amount of knowledge I had expected, I still think Amdahl’s attempt to write a book that allows people to learn without effort was meaningful. Reading it really did not require much cognitive activity other than making sure that my eyes stay on the page and it may be suitable for a different readership.

After all, he did say “Don’t mistake your watermelon for the universe” so I would like to think that it’s the thought that counts.