Summary of Last Semester

Mainly what I did this semester was take 8 classes and create 3 theses. I also learned how to swim.

For my music thesis I recorded samples and made instruments out of them. Bottles clanking created high percussion and water-filled woks made for sweeping wobble-lines. I got tons of gamelan sounds and focused on lining up the pulsing patterns to create a polyrhythmic structure.

I thought it would be super cool to create an interface that used body-motion to control music, and realized it would be possible with a Kinect sensor, Ableton Live, Synapse, and MaxMSP. At my senior show: "The X Sound Festival" I performed the piece: "Dream Leftovers" using a minimalist dance to control elements of the song. It appeared that I was floating because I was lit by backlight, wearing a UV costume I had made, and standing on one leg to use one foot to pan a track, In the end I rolled off the stage into the audience.

My teacher was powerful mad at me for putting a dead coyote in her dishwasher. Actually she was mad for not having a DVD for the X Sound Festival (the DVD drive in the lab was broken). I didn't realize it was an issue because everything worked fine using my friend's laptop, including preemptive messages I had made such as: "Shake into a New Dimension is an application downloaded from the ether, are you sure you want to open it?" and "The X Sound Festival has unexpectedly quit, reopen? Once I had been scolded for being unprofessional for an hour or so I felt ashamed and have hopefully learned my lesson.

 

Here's the part where I get to brag however: after being thoroughly chided my teacher commented on how impressive it was that I had written two songs and made a music video in three weeks, along with creating a multi-media performance art piece. She commented that I had accomplished more with the Kinect sensor technology in a few weeks than the combined efforts of the technical director of Mills and a graduate student had over the course of four months. 

Once I was thoroughly burnt out on working hard I just continued to work hard. I directed my first large video crew and finished my psychology thesis. I had an average of 3 hours a day commuting by bus throughout the semester and would use it to do research for this thesis. I ended up writing about music as a metaphor for brain function, discussing how cross-cerebral neural oscillation synchrony may be a crucial component for cognitive function. There are many brain disturbances that are correlated with brainwave synchrony abnormalities and I proposed new research within three of these areas (schizophrenia, autism spectrum disorders and Parkinson’s disease) involving a relatively new individualized neurofeedback treatment that transforms EEG data into music. 

Now I’m done with my undergraduate degree. I’ve had capstone educational experiences, but it’s still odd not to be thinking about what classes I’ll take next semester. Now I’m busy trying to find a job and an apartment but also making myself deadlines for individual projects like writing an album, making a few DJ sets, making a line of paintings, creating a fashion line, studying for the GRE, Researching all the neuroscience literature on dreaming and learning basic Photoshop, calculus and physics.

Clarence Clancy Jr.’s Crazy Mom

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Rey Osterrith Complex Figure

During Wednesday’s Neuropsychology tutorial the guest teacher Jamie impersonated patients so that we could administer tests and come up with diagnoses.  It was one of the most fun classes of the semester. For each of the three imaginary patients we were given the same information: She is 65-years old and her family has been complaining that she has trouble remembering and performing day to day tasks. Her life history is that she has had nine years of education, that she worked at her family’s corner store until she got married at age 21, after which she worked at a RV Park with her husband until he passed away one year ago. Her son is her closest relative. The stipulations were that each class member got to ask the son one question, and we each got to ask the patient one question, along with administering standardized tests. We also got to name the patients/sons. The first characters were: “Bob” and “Mary” and Jamie said that those are almost always amongst the first names.

It was obvious upon interviewing Mary that she did not remember what had happened five minutes ago, and that semantic memory was impaired (for instance, she called cornflakes “golden crunch bits.”) Her results on word memory tests showed that she had an encoding problem, indicting hippocampal damage, and her copy of the Rey Osterrith Complex Figure showed constructional errors relating to a suspected disturbance in the parietal lobe. Although the brain scans were purportedly normal, hippocampal damage can be difficult to pick up in an MRI due to the angles of the scan. The hippocampus was obviously damaged in this case and based off of behavioral evidence - the class was certain that imaginary-Mary had Alzheimer’s Dementia.

The next patient was “Joe” with her son “Thomas.” The verdict from both characters was that Joe was severely depressed after the death of her husband, and had some memory disorder that was either caused by, or went along with the depression. The class’s verdict was a probable case of Depressive Psuedo Dementia.

Betty was the last patient, and her obviously damaged orbitofrontal cortex was a relief after the heaviness left in the room from Jamie’s convincing portrayal of depression. There was a lag before anyone came up with the son’s name, so I said the first name primed in my mind: “Clarence Clancy Jr.” I felt vindicated when the room began to roar with laughter and asked: “What do we call him for short?” So it was that CCJ began to tell us of his mother’s troubles. Betty had been arrested for shoplifting some fifteen years prior, and this marked her decline into socially inappropriate behavior. Betty was drawing boobs on the dry-erase board when the first question was asked: “How are you feeling.” To which Betty replied: “ I was bored until I saw you handsome, now I’m feeling just fiiiiiine.” She was distracted by the things in her immediate surroundings and spent the interview spinning on her chair, turning the lights on and off, and going into descriptions of her sex life. When it was my turn I challenged her to attend to the rest of the interview/test, because it was “all about her.” This held up until the standardized tests, which were wrought with evidence of short-term memory loss, erratic executive function, and obsessive behavior such as repeating phrases and turning everything into a rhythmic pattern. Betty was diagnosed with Fronto-Temporal Dementia, but one wonders if she didn’t always have some orbitofrontal disturbance, naming her son “Clarence Clancy Jr.” and all.

The Dog on My Crown

    I was looking out some giant windows into nature. Dense green foliage in a wild-ecosystem was inhabited by all kinds of animals, humans included. One of the humans had flowing gauze gown and a wreath of willow around her head, she was walking towards a doe, and a tapir stood in the background. I noticed a big white shaggy dog coming up to the window, wagging its tail. The dog used the sturdy gold crown on its head to break the glass and come to me. We loved each other so much. My heart unfolded. I hugged the dog.

    I was early to the Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging (FMRI) experiment I volunteered for, so I bought a cappuccino at the hospital coffee shop and studied my neuroanatomy drawings. I understand what agent Cooper from Twin Peaks was saying about giving yourself a treat everyday, and not planning for it, it's these kinds of luxuries that turn a good day into an excellent one.

    I had an excellent time in the FMRI machine. Because I enjoyed the noise generated by the machine so much, I was a bit concerned that my audio processing would distract from the task (clicking a button every time one of the images on the screen I was fixated on flickered) but after all was said and done the experimenters said my responses had been accurate and that I had stayed tremendously still. The aim of the study is to find which area(s) of the brain are designated to process sights of hands, and I'll be interested to see the results. I only wonder if they'll have to filter out the activity in my audio cortex. The experience also made me wonder if experiments I plan to design involving music would be better suited to a quieter sort of imaging.

    The mandate of complete stillness in a small enclosed space made for a meditative hour. At some points the noisy electric hum of the machine became the most beautiful music, even better than the sounds found in teeth-drilling at the dentist (I'm pretty much joking about that, but not quite. Mills music majors have uncanny appreciation for random electrical noises with experimental modes of delivery).

The sonic space surrounded me with its integrated textures, timing, and melodic lines forming an interlocking field of contours and colors - an out-of-body experience in bright golds and teals. The feeling of liberation rendered each atom in me the same as a field of open-space. In between not thinking I thought about how much fun it would be to be a neuroscientist, and I thought about my dreams. The glee accompanying my meeting the dog continually broke through the glass of my perception. I wondered if I might be the white dog.

Illiterate in Real-World

When the monotenous myopic tasks of an intern span an eight hour day, it makes the intern illiterate in real-world. All an intern would need to do to get home and make some dinner would be to bend space-time and just ride a warped wave down the sidewalk.

 After a day-to-day day though, one doesn't  want the day-to-day. All the energy that was in the eyes wants to re-join the rest of the body. The scrutiny on the tiniest meaning wants to stop analyzing at all costs.

A good remedy would be to use telekinesis to lift the birds of paradise, and use them to smash car windows. this would be done with no malice or joy, but a neutrality backed by extreme energy and efficiency.

Another great thing to do would be to pick up a fat white duck and say yell: "I always wanted to pick up a duck!"

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I attribute this video to my desire to smash car windows with a flower.  A favorite teacher of mine in high school, Alain Antoine, linked me to this.

Connecting the Dots

    I was down to a hundred dollars, and a hundred dollars was the minimum balance to keep an account open. I was running low on groceries, and had stopped going out, drinking, and snacking.

     Luckily I was single-mindedly devoted to the idea of proving myself Australia's Top Intern Candidate, and spent a lot of time making neuroanatomy study guides. I also volunteered for a couple of experiments, making ten and fifteen bucks at a time, and nearly spending it all on public transit.

     My mom put some money in my account, and in two days I was hired as a barista and an intern in a neuroimaging lab. It turns out the shiniest thing on my psychology research resume was something I put in as an afterthought - proficiency in Final Cut Pro. The lab needs someone to edit promotional videos and experiment stimuli, along with helping with day-to-day lab work. I was hired for the internship on the spot, and wore the goofiest smile for about a week.

     On top of that, all my classes are super great. DJing class is my favorite so far and I am happy to report that I will be learning Abelton Live . Contemporary Music Production is perfectly structured to develop my musical creativity, and Neuropsychology is filling in the blanks of my psychology education.

The Only Braincell Left

       It was "Back 2 School" day at The Ranch, and it was a costume contest. I worked all day on my Neuron costume, which I made with recycled fliers from STA, wire, duct tape, wrapping paper, and a red sharpie. I figure that neurons are the most important school supply. I made text-book like labels so the drunken masses would understand, and they largely did - "Oh, ha ha, you're an electrically excitable cell that's fundamental to the nervous system!"

     Its always fun mingling when in a fantastic costume, because it takes away all social awkwardness. I was making friends of "nerds" and "sexy nerds" alike.

The bar staff pulled me away to say I qualified for the costume contest, so I got on stage feeling elite. My main competition were Leon, the head RA who was dressed as a calculator (which was a cardboard box with a print out on it) and a girl dressed as a bus (a cardboard box with a print out on it). When they called my name first however, I knew I wouldn't win. The first never wins when the judges are are drunken mob.

The guy who won was wearing a hat and a backpack, because he had placed his friends in the front. He won a Macbook Pro. They should call it a yelling contest to be more accurate. When I left the bouncer asked if I won and I said no, adding that it was because I was the only braincell left alive.