Author: koalie

Doing something else –but what?

These days, I wish I knew other things so I could consider a career change. Instead, I often long for something else, brood, and sweep the thought away to do what I have to do, because that is a better use of time and energy.

I suspect it would be easier if I knew what else I’d like to do. Even better if I could readily do other things. As to learning new things, well, I don’t feel like I’m up to the effort, and I have not the faintest idea what.

I like my work, however, and so find puzzling that I should yearn for something else. The work is varied, challenging and interesting, the people are wonderful, the mission is a constant inspiration.

Perhaps it’s the long hours. Budgets have been shrinking, and so has the size of our team. Our workload, on the other hand hasn’t. Quite the opposite, it seems. Perhaps it’s the fact I have been around almost 16 years. I have been so lucky to progress in several teams and assume various positions. I’ve been in the team I’m in now for almost 10 years, full time for 7 years, and I have done so many different things and am doing so many other different things that it is truly mind-blowing. No, what I mean is the absolute time it represents.

The Consortium is twenty years old. It’s marvelous it’s still there, and its agenda is full to the brim. If I were to change jobs, wouldn’t it be perfect if it were before I’m in my forties?

Aha! I get it. This is a sort of mid-life work crisis, I’m having. Perhaps.

The future is what we build

Before I started my day, I read Trouble at the Koolaid Point, by Seriouspony [who writes “I’m not linking it to the blog, and it won’t likely stay up long”]. I had not heard about her until very recently, and reading her account felt like a punch in the face. It stayed with me since then. I think it’s going to stay with me a while.

Midway through her account, Seriouspony wrote:

“This is the world we have created.”

Later in the day at work, I followed tweets and news of the Keynote on the future of the Web that Tim Berners-Lee gave at the opening of IPExpo in London. He said many inspiring things in his habitual humble manner, but one in particular resonated with me. It was in response to a question from the floor related to the Dark Web. I soon found it in Brian’s timeline:

(The Register also quoted Tim at the end of a piece they published after his keynote.)

Kevin read Seriouspony too; here is his advice to which I live by:

https://twitter.com/kplawver/status/519866535922642944

And finally, Amy retweeted this:

https://twitter.com/kneath/status/519883872280928256

All is not white and all is not black, but there are some pretty dark grey stuff out there. Let’s be considerate of our fellow humans, please. Let’s stand up for ourselves. If the future is what we build, let’s build and nurture a world we can be proud of.

#sketch: Pomponette

Pomponette is a sweet female cat that lives in the neighbourhood. I don’t know if she has a home or just owns the neighbours instead. Pomponette is how we call her; the neighbor calls her Mimine.

She showed up in our garden, I remember, Adrien had been born only a few weeks or so. She’s friendly albeit a little wary. And she shows up most days. She likes very much to be petted but will not settle on anyone’s knees or be held. There is a lot in her face, size and built that reminds me of Emu, my own cat, who’s been gone more than a year now, so Pomponette does linger now. This is nice.

Yesterday we found her curled in an empty flower pot, sleeping in the morning sun. As she heard my approaching foot steps, she raised a cocked head, before yawning and stretching.

Made on paper (12×12 cm) with Pentel Brush Pen, charcoal and white, brown and terra cotta pastels..

Drawing of the cat Pomponette, ink and pastel

“Are you the seven-bell Dane?” An Alice in Wonderland sort of dream

I’m running in wide long carpeted corridors. The place is gigantic. I am in America, this is certain. The mix of people I see however is strange. Clusters of students carrying books, wealthy looking elderly people in formal dress.

Even a whole burlesque party, progressing slowly through a massive hall, women laughing loudly at men’s jests and waving colourful feather boas. I slithered among them in a hurry. I reached three sets of double wooden doors leading to a bigger area. A dead end it seemed. I doubled back, paused.

High-heel shoes, glittering slender naked body, small firm breasts, she wore a costume made of golden silk and rhinestones, two fine chains of gold crossed her chest and rippled on her shoulders. Two people at her sides hold her graceful hands. “Make way!” one of them said. “Make way! The artist needs to prepare for the performance!” She seemed absent; is she there of her own will? Not my business, I must be running again.

More corridors. Marble halls and wooden intricate staircases. More young people in groups, dressed in everyday clothes. I’ll take a left here, it has to be this way.

“Are you the seven-bell Dane?” a young man asks behind me. I slow down, turn to him, frown and tilt my head. Seven-bell? I have no idea what he’s talking about. I tell him in my mind. I am in such a rush, can’t he see that? He continues unsure, “Err, are you… Dane?” Already he’s raising a hand in an apologetic gesture and turns away. I’m half French half Italian and I’m lost, dammit!

I take a left, running –I’m so late by now. The hallway leads me to a velvet padded lecture hall. An elegant old woman comes forward. “Are you lost, child?” In my mind I tell her I left all my things in a meeting room and I’ve been running like crazy for too long to find it again. I don’t know where I am, which room I left. I don’t even know where to start. Purple velvet –what is this room? “Sorry, I’ve got to go!” I jumped in what had become a thirty-feet purple velvety cliff. I dived in little gravity, bounced off a purple cushion at an angle, kicked at another one and landed at the bottom.