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in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine · 4 months

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#unique #individual #complex #evolving #multifaceted #dynamic #ever-changing #growing #learning #adapting

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novathesheltie · 5 months

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To complete my master’s I have to do a 6-month internship, which I’ll be doing at Ifremer…in Normandy. Nova and I have to move across the country again, this time towards a cold and rainy climate. But I’m excited : I’ll be studying different methods on estimating dolphin/seal by-catch. Meaning, I’ll be doing hardcore statistics. Which is a little hilarious since I’ve always yelled on every rooftop how much my brain cannot comprehend stats. It does (better) now, and I can’t wait to be completely thrown into that universe, with the hopes of coming out of it a more experienced statistical biologist. And funny : my childhood dream has always been to have my future somehow tied to orcas, and while I’m very aware of the logistics of that dream, I’ve also subconsciously been gearing my life towards that goal. I went from a Bachelor in Wildlife Sciences (ahem, more management than sciences but) to a Master’s in Marine Sciences (fucking hardcore sciences with crazy ass level math and stats) and now my internship is somewhat related to cetaceans in some way. I’m hoping to go the PhD route too once I’m done. But I’m also very much okay with doing conservation/consulting stuff. One of my classes made me réalise I was pretty good at that too. I’m okay with both paths if one doesn’t work out. I’m also okay with none of them working out, and doing something different (I heavily looked into being a dog trainer when I couldn’t find an internship). I’m excited. Writing in French is still an absolute hassle, the math involved behind stat models gives me brain damage, and I’ve been cohabitating with stress for the past few months…but we’re doing good. Nova’s gotten a tad chunky, I’m not taking him out as often and I’m using his food for mental stimulation, but I know this is a just a finite wave that will come to an end and we’ll go back to our usual shenanigans.

Since I’ll be alone in Normandy, I’ve looked into dog clubs to do obedience work or agility. Puppy mitters will be entertained again, and I plan on continuing teaching him a proper heel (i’ve finally figured out which buttons to use).

We’ll be okay, but I’ll miss the warm weather of the south and the beautiful mountains and calanques. Onward.

#dogblr #sheltie #shetland sheepdog #nova #i’ll be also leaving my friends #some are leaving too but not all #and also my boyfriend who is staying in the south #i’m trying my best to keep this as positive as possible #bc it’s daunting #moving again #changing #adapting #i’m tired of it #but i know it comes with life or whatever

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quotestomorals · 10 months

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This song is new to me, but I am honored to be a part of it.

The Outer Wilds

#Quotes #outer wilds #learning #adapting #culture #quoteoftheday #inkspill #books

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randomreasonstolive · 1 year

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Reason to Live #9018

Adapting my plans to navigate new challenges. – Guest Submission

(Please don't add negative comments to these posts.)

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doshi-sukiru · 1 year

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If wukong and macaque reconcile and decide to live in ffm with bai he, would she be able to adapt? would she be accepted by the other monkeys on the island? i think bai would feel so different because she's human and maybe she feel doesn't fit in with her new family.

It would take some time, but like with Mk, I'm pretty sure the monkeys would accept Bai he. Especially if the king and queen do to let her live with them on the mountain. She might feel out of place, but with Mk coming over she might learn to manage and handle the idea of living on FFM.

#ask #our ball of tangled yarn #shadowpeach #lmk macaque #lmk wukong #lmk bai he #lmk mk #adapting #family

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redtoondevils · 5 months

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Some insight to Moons behavior. (Annotations.)

I think, that if Moon. Hypothetically. If he was ever treated with kindness, then Moon wouldn't been so bad. I've been itching to say this for a long time. Because ever since he was programmed to be a villain on stage. Then he would be a pretend villain, and relatively harmless.

The thing about being designed as a villain, would develop no motor skills, or understand what 'goodness' is. Like animals in a way, they are programmed to do the thing that they are supposed to do. Weather if it's 'Good' Or 'Bad' but that is how they understand it.

And for this villain in particular, he was only given commands to follow what he is supposed to do, that's what he knows. However, the problem that he doesn't know was never corrected.

When he continues to do those 'bad' things. It's something that he knows. But I would like to think of him as a kid almost. He isn't literally. But it's the things that he was never taught.

He was never taught kindness, he was never taught respect, he was never taught manners. That's why he's often rude, and overwhelming. Because of how his AI adapts. So, he doesn't understand the good value of treating other people.

If he was taught these things, how to behave better. Taught good manners, and motive skills. I think his AI would learn that, and he would have been better.

It's sad to see people disregarding Moon because of how rude, and bully that he is. Where I think, if he was taught right. (And correct his invalid behaviors.)

And treated well, then he would have been a softer less harsh Moon. Keep in mind, that he is a robot. So, of course he's not going to 'Know' better. Advanced AI doesn't mean they 'Know' better. No body knows better.

Not even Freddy too. Even though he's the nicest animatronic parent that everyone loves. He still has flaws. He does not have many flaws. But, he still does them sometimes. He's another one.

With this. I would place Moon as a miss understood 'Villain'. Not evil.

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feehippielove · 1 year

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If you do it one time, it's a mistake.

If you do it twice, it's the beginning of a pattern.

If I allow it to happen a third time then, I'm a fool.

Accept what it is,

Let go of what it was,

Be open to what will.

#note to self #my diary #self reminder #self accountability #self honesty #self worth #aquarius thoughts #self love #self care #food for thought #i learned my lesson #my poem #growing #learning #accepting #adapting #healing #it's all about the journey

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treecakes · 4 months

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puts the heaviest iron book end ever next to my plant so my cat doesn’t knock it over 😭

#adapting

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proloblog · 5 months

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☆M A H O R A G A☆ COMPLETED AT LAST

This guy was ultra fun to draw, he's so frightening in the anime and quiet, and I really like him for that. He just trudges on and ravages everything in his path! Divine monster...

#metal #anime art #manga #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu nanami #megumi fushiguro #mahoraga #sorcery #monster #buddhism #building #fighting #insane #adapting #sword #artwork

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amian-elf · 10 months

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Like a Fox

Ever the one calling me the liar,

Having the fox's tongue.

Rather than wondering why the lie

Popped out of my mouth first and foremost.

I was, after all, so young

And you'd still referred to me as a fox.

A liar like a fox.

I came to hate him for his existence within me,

Too young to understand the truth.

The truth that the fox's vicious lie

Comprised only one facet of him.

But I, nevertheless, had dewy eyes when

I was gifted with those cute pink pyjamas.

And the fox stamp was plastered on my chests.

Are they referring to me as a fox?

A liar like a fox?

Still disliking him while my hormones grew,

Still in the sense my every word was a lie, if not vindicated.

Blinded by my defences, to comprehend the fox.

I would compose clever words, and he would assist me

Unbeknownst to me.

I was looking for my independence, to utilise my intelligence,

And the fox stood in the corner of my eye, watchful,

Eager to copy my moves.

Too late, I noticed that he wasn’t copying, he was mirroring.

Am I referring to myself as a fox?

A liar like a fox?

So, my mother perceived something within me,

Something mirroring outwards.

She then questioned who he was, and I answered

He was a fox. I was a liar like a fox.

That's all I was ever told, whereas

All I ever wanted was the eyes,

With pride and interest, pinned on my own being.

I have shown that in every impossible way,

Yet all that was a lie.

They’d referred to me as a fox.

A liar like a fox.

How strange it was to see the smiling eyes in her

As she pointed out that an upside down six is a nine.

And vice-versa.

The way a fox thrives in the wild, agile and adaptable.

Ginger fur like fire, like the copper strands on my skull.

In the winter, they morph into white.

In the desert, they morph into sand.

The sharp tiny fangs,

Dangerous for enemies and tricky for friends.

She then added:

— And his curiosity? That's part of him.

And I gazed at her with open eyes, brain racing.

Every time they referred to me as a liar, it turned out to be a lie?

Not a liar like a fox?

Now, I am finally in peace with him, with the fox.

The truth is, the fox is me, and I'm the fox.

It’s just a part of me.

Let me not be branded by a singular aspect of a concept.

For we're not singular, we're multiples.

I am not a liar as a fox,

Just like a fox.

~🫀

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sandpaperdaisy · 1 year

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When ai imagery destroyed my dream, it saved me as an artist.

[Originally published on sandpaperdaisy.com on 1/4/23.]

All my art life (which is actually all my life now that I think about it) I have worked to become a better and better artist. At some point, this became practicing every day to become a more technically excellent artist. I wanted very much to have a more steady hand, more economy of line, better compositions, superior color combinations, more dynamic movement, a better grasp of anatomy, and a better command of an ever-growing box of tools, including digital tools.

Then AI generated images came along.

At first, I watched with amusement as AI made extremely hideous muddy faces and hands with 14 fingers. But as I followed the different things people are doing with it, I came to notice several truly disturbing things:

1. The best-looking AI images directly scrape the art of existing artists, without their consent and very often explicitly against their wishes. This happens everytime someone writes a prompt that includes "in the style of Heather Landry," or "Artstation Trending Works" or etc.

2. People are belligerent that they should be able to do this, that it is completely legal, and that it is not in any way a violation of the artist's rights. They accuse artists of trying to "cling to their monopoly on visual media" and say that artists are just being small minded and short-sighted as people once were with all art and technological advances.

3. Businesses are extremely interested in developing the AI technology further so that they don't have to spend nearly as much money on artists, writers, and other creative people. And since businesses have all the money, what they want is what generally comes to pass.

4. An AI script can make several variations of an idea, instantly or very quickly, and depending on whose art style(s) were scraped it can create very technically precise and compelling pieces.

5. Average people and businesses often like these AI pictures just as much as art made by human artists, IN SPITE of extra fingers or strange inhuman faces. They often do not even notice these aberrations and focus instead on the overall image being pleasing to them and fulfilling whatever their goal was for the picture.

6. Non-artists and non-writers are extremely eager to call themselves artists and writers for the act of writing prompts, and their emotional reactions to being told they are prompt-writers instead show that they hold a great deal of resentment towards creative people.

7. In many instances, AI generated images can achieve more technically excellent strokes and more interesting compositions or color combinations than I am capable of doing quickly. And I cannot do anything instantly at all.

8. I am almost certain to be replaced by AI at some point, whether or not this would result in the best work for my employers and clients, because it is economically just too tempting.

9. I myself experimented with AI images so I wouldn't just be talking out of my hat. I found it to be fun for a short period of time (2 days to be exact) but ultimately a very empty and isolating experience. Simply put, I did not feel connected to any of the images. Any prompts that came out nicely did not feel like MINE at all. And I also couldn't use any of the interesting images generated, since I knew they all contained pieces of the hard work of some human artist somewhere.

So. I found AI generated images to be cold and empty, often ridiculous on close examination but already "good enough" for many businesses and would-be creatives, and far cheaper and faster than I can ever be as a human. In a matter of two months or so, I watched as I became completely obsolete and irrelevant to many people who drew no distinction between my art and AI images.

For that matter, I can't always tell AI generated images from the art of a person I know nothing about. Knowing this, I can see all too well why my contributions would be deemed worthless by someone in this new playing field.

In the blink of an eye, Forty years of work was nothing. my future was nothing.

I'm not one to hide away from my circumstances, so I faced this nightmare scenario head-on and considered how to survive it.

First and foremost, I knew that I wanted to keep making art. I just love doing so, it's one of my chief sources of happiness. And like I think of myself as a "mother" or a "human," I think of myself as an artist on an absolute and cellular level.

So that was all right, I would never stop being an artist. At least I didn't have to worry about that.

Whether I would ever be a paid artist again was another matter!!

So, I tackled that next. I currently know a lot of people who love human art. They love being able to communicate with me and get exactly what they need from me, a machine's approximations would not be "good enough" for them. So it may come to pass that I can continue helping them for years, or possibly even for the rest of our lives. But paying clients were never guaranteed to me in the first place, I have always known that my next freelance job might be my last.

So that was all right, I always knew that client work could dry up, and that I could one day be fired from my full time art job for any reason. There was nothing new here to fret about.

That just left my dream of artistic improvement and technical excellence.

I always strive to compete with myself foremost, so I still have the ability to become better than myself. But any dreams of being recognized as a talented and special artist, an expert at a certain style or technique, have been burned to the ground. The simple truth is, the machines will win against me every time in battles of speed, precision, and versatility of technique.

Going back to my own struggles when presented with an image of unknown origin: if I have been an artist for forty years and I can't always tell if I'm looking at a piece of human art or an AI generated image, how do I justify my existence? How can I hope that anyone could ever tell that I am me, that a human hand has created my art?

Where does the artist exist in my art?

And then I saw it. My humanity is expressed in the stories and images inside of me that have originated from my human experiences, mistakes, and dreams. As a friend reminded me, our humanity exists in our imperfections and flaws.

My flaws are what make me unique. While I could strive to achieve the same crystal lattice and symmetry that any AI script could make, it will not tell MY story at all.

Perfection is not human. It is certainly not me.

And that is when I gave up.

I once indulged in pipe dreams of fame and renown. But as of now, I am facing absolute obscurity as thousands upon thousands of instantly generated, good-enough images continue to flood the world. Before, I stood to be drowned out by all the talented human artists in the world. Today I am facing down a horde of tireless, constantly improving robots which are available to anyone, all the time, without end.

With such extreme saturation no one may ever see what I create again, and if they do, no one may ever value it again.

This took a lot of pressure off me, and I began to see my way. Strangely enough, my way forward came to me out of the past, decades back, before I even had a computer and before social media existed.

When I was a student, a professor showed me Michelangelo's Rondanini Pietà. It was rough, unfinished, raw. He wanted me to look at it with the same attention and respect that I looked upon the earlier works of the artist in his prime. He told me that in the Rondanini Pietà lay the beginning of Abstract Art.

I thought he was nuts.

How could this unfinished sculpture even be spoken of seriously? It was rough, it was ugly, it lacked technical excellence. It was flawed. It was worth less than his more technically excellent works! What did it give to the world!

Yeah, I know. My excuse is that I was twenty.

Now that I face my own "death," that is, my utter obscurity in an increasingly post-human creative landscape, I finally see it. I see the artist in the art. I see far more of Michelangelo in this rough piece than I can in any of his stunningly perfect pieces. I see pain, and fear, and weakness. I see a human heart.

Now it's my turn. Michaelangelo may have been 80 and faltering when he worked on his last Pietà, but I'm no spring chicken myself. I no longer wish to be admired like the prize hog at the fair and given a big blue ribbon that says, HEATHER DREW THE VERY BEST. YES SHE WAS THE BEST ARTIST. I no longer wish to be perfect, or famous, or richly rewarded and collected by the men of means. I don't need someone to approve of me anymore.

All I need to do before I die, is tell my story.

And with all pride in the "uniqueness" of my technical skills completely destroyed, and all threat of scrutiny removed, I can tell my story even if it's ugly and awkward...and imperfect.

I always could.

But I was twenty then, when I dreamed of perfection...so forgive me.