Steve Jobs: Pioneer of the Creative Process

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Steve Jobs envisioned a world where anyone could have access to tools to fully realize their creativity. Being an artist, being creative, shouldn’t be some specialized profession requiring expensive sensitive equipment. (All things relative of course. While a computer is still expensive, music mixing equipment, for instance, is much much more.)  So as my personal homage to Steve, here are Ten Things that Steve Jobs Has Provided Me to Help Me Be a Fully Creative Person.

1. The Personal Computer. So many things we take for granted in our computing life came from Apple under Steve Jobs. While Apple didn’t make the first personal computer, they were the first to make them useable by non-engineers and non-programmers. Things like icons and menus began under Apple. Before the mouse, people entered text into a command line to navigate…well there was nothing to navigate. The color screen? Apple. Listening to sound and inputing sound? Peripherals that plugged and played? That was Apple too. If you’re not a native English speaker, Apple was the first to support languages other than English. Continue reading

Malay Melange: Missives from Malaysia no. 3

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This was a sign that was in a taxi. It implored its passengers to refrain from kissing. One might think that this is peculiar to Malaysia, prudish admonishments from a predominantly Muslim country. But actually, I’ve found that such modesty is the norm throughout Southeast Asia, in Buddhist countries as well. Yet I observed locals holding hands and couples showing public affection for each other. I didn’t feel it was such a big deal there in general, compared to Thailand and Cambodia.

Malaysia was my first experience in a Muslim country, where sharia, or Islamic law is practiced. (I don’t count my travels to Indonesia since I was only in Bali, a Hindu enclave. I suppose I could count my time in England where I lived among Pakistanis.) Counter to my expectations, I didn’t feel restricted at all. Of course, mine was a skewed perspective, since I was in a surprisingly cosmopolitan city, and then an international resort area. Sharia doesn’t apply to non-Muslims. The heathens can drink alcohol, whereas the faithful cannot, for instance.

On the other hand, I did see censorship, like this blacked out photo of a ballet dancer. I guess the leotard was too revealing.

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Malaysia’s a pleasingly multicultural society and from my superficial experience there, people seemed to co-exist pretty peacefully. Half are Malay, a quarter are Chinese, about 15% are Indians and the rest are tribal members of the Borneo jungles, and expats. What this has led to is great food. It’s an eclectic mix. It’s also led to what appears to be a certain level of religious tolerance, as I saw Hindu and Buddhist temples.

Here are some other observations about the culture and people I came across.

Mellow Malaysians
Unlike other Southeast Asian countries, shopkeepers and taxi-drivers aren’t aggressive. Although, when I went into one airport store, the Chinese shopkeepers kept following me around and offered me deals on everything I looked at. We didn’t go to the markets but there wasn’t any haggling anywhere.

Like the rest of Southeast Asia, open conflict like shouting or showing anger is considered immature and is to be avoided.

Malaysia is not a smiling culture. No one was unfriendly. But no one smiled. Eye contact was also avoided. I found myself avoiding eye contact too when I interacted with service workers. I also stopped smiling as it seemed to make the women uncomfortable.

The youth are quite contemporary, non-traditional in their dress, resembling most Japanese fashions. Many young men had earrings, which I never really see around Asia.

Imported Labor
I didn’t observe an obvious division of labor in Kuala Lumpur. I’ve read commerce is dominated by the Chinese and politics by the Malays. Grunt labor seemed to be filled by Indonesians, Filipinos and Tamil Indians in the city.

In Langkawi, most of the reception staff were Malay or Indonesian, and the cleaners, waiters and attendants were Bangladeshi. I chatted at length with the Bangladeshi and they all seemed to have one relative in Japan and one in the US. Also, every first time conversation began with a recitation of how long they’ve been in Malaysia. “I have been in Malaysia for 1 year and 2 months.” They were all very kind.

Fellow Tourists
At our resort, most of the tourists were Russian, German, Dutch, Australian, Arab and Indian. There were sprinklings of Chinese. I also noticed a Korean couple. But I was surprised to find no Japanese. I’m sure it had a lot to do with the fact that there were no Japanese holidays while we were there. I’m certain their visits are concentrated during the New Year and Spring holidays.

I could understand the large number of Russians and Indians and Chinese. This is all the new money. And Aussies live nearby. But why the disproportionate number of Dutch?

I thought about how all those Russians and Chinese must be very rich. But then thought how Americans and Japanese are very privileged, since just middle class folks like me could come here. The middle class of the US and Japan are as rich as the rich in other countries.

In Kuala Lumpur, there were some Americans but they were mostly people like me who lived around Asia.

Bahasa Ingris

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I liked this sign, warnings listed in four languages, plus a graphic.

Everyone spoke English as it’s one of the national languages, and the unifying one of a population that speaks Malay, Chinese or Hindi. It’s also a colonial legacy, since the Brits controlled Malaysia longer than anyone else.

While all the other nationalities spoke English to varying degrees, the Russians spoke nary a word of it. Like nothing. I observed them even ghostwriting their room numbers in the air, instead of just saying it.

The Arabs
There were quite a few Arab tourists. I don’t observe them much in other places in Asia, but I’m sure they prefer Malaysia since it’s a Muslim country. Sadly, in the 40 degree heat (about 90F), the women always wore heavy black veils that covered everything but the eyes. They weren’t the sheer light scarves worn by the local Muslim women. They were heavy fabrics. Others still wore the full burqa. They were always black.

I thought that white would at least alleviate the heat. The men, their husbands and sons, were in t-shirts and shorts. I can respect the choice towards modesty, however you define it, but that was too much. Couldn’t the men show some solidarity by wearing trousers and long-sleeved shirts? After all, they’re the ones who made the dress code and enforce it.

The Leftie’s Lament
The one cultural thing that I had problems with was the use of the right hand when handing things to another person. I’m a leftie, so I constantly had to hastily switch money from my left hand to my right hand. The left hand is considered unclean since it’s traditionally used to clean oneself after using the toilet. Most Malaysians seemed amused when I awkwardly switched hands. but I did catch flickers of hesitation during the times I forgot and used my left hand.

Mary Blair, Disney’s Muse

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Mary Blair was an artist who worked for Walt Disney. This is probably a profound understatement since, after viewing The Colors of Mary Blair at the Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo, I began to see that her art was Disney. In fact, I hadn’t realized that the aesthetic of the 50′s and 60′s, in art, advertising, design, as well as animation, were all shaped by her unique use of colors and stylized shapes.

Not only did she do a lot of the conceptual art for many of Disney’s biggest films, her influence extends to current films like the anthropomorphized Cars. Blair was also the mind behind the iconic It’s a Small World attraction, my favorite ride to deconstruct.

Her works extend way beyond Disney.  She was a critically acclaimed artist before joining Mickey’s team, and made several attempts to leave and blaze her own trail.  But women artists were (and still are) not taken seriously, so she returned to what seems to be a supportive  boss in Walt Disney.

I wonder how she would have been received had her work not been identified with the ultimate in commercialized art.  Yet, it’s doubtful she would have wielded the same influence had she been merely freelancing.

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The exhibit is a comprehensive retrospective of her works, from her post-art nouveau student days to her Disney years to her bizarre surreal paintings before her death.  I appreciated the way she researched her subjects, even traveling to South America to get ideas for a film.

I have to admit, I was dismissive when T suggested going to the exhibit, because of my love/hate relationship with Disney.  But I was set straight with a good herstory lesson and educated about an important and influential mid-century artist.

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Jeju Notes: My Father’s Footsteps

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When I told my dad that I visited Jeju Island, he told me about his first visit to the island. I knew that he went there on his honeymoon with my mom when they were in their 20’s. And I knew that more recently he attended a high school reunion there. He even stayed in the same hotel that I did!

But I never knew about his first trip there as a teenager. It was part of a larger solo trip around South Korea. I asked him if this was something that many kids did at that time, like a rite of passage. But he told me, as far as he knew, he was the only one that he knew of. Here’s his story in the form of an interview.

So I imagine that Jeju was not the highly developed resort island that it is now.

No, there were no resorts then. It was 1961. Korea was a war-torn nation, just 8 years after the civil war. We were one of the poorest nations in the world.

What did people make back then?

The Korean GNP per capita was about $120 then. Countries like Vietnam and the Philippines had triple that. Even North Korea was at $350. Now Korea ranks as the 13th largest economy in the world. It really is a miracle.

It’s hard to imagine what it was like.  I guess people didn’t take vacations much then.

When I was growing up, it was still a poverty-stricken, wartime atmosphere, even though there was a cease-fire.

I know all the men still have to serve a few years in the military. Was it more militarized back then?

Oh yeah. All the high schools of the nation were organized as military units. Our school numbered around 3,000 students, or about the size of an army regiment and it was organized as such. I was the regiment commander my senior year, in 1962. I was seventeen years old.

I see. Then being a commander probably gave you some confidence to travel around on your own.

Well, I traveled around the year before that.  But I had a 2nd degree black belt in judo.

That helps. But still, you were only a teenager.

I traveled alone to Jeju when I was sixteen, a high school junior. It was no-money travel.

You mean, you didn’t have any money on that trip!? Then how did you get all the way down to Jeju?

First, I snuck onto a train from Seoul to Busan [a major port city on the southern coast]. I stayed at my aunt’s house for a few days there. Then, I stowed away onto a boat to Jeju from Busan. From the Jeju port, I walked east to Segue-po, then crossed over Mt Halla to Cheju city.

Did you sneak onto buses too?

No, I mostly walked. It took me seven days to walk around the island and another two days to hike up Mt Halla. I mostly slept in town halls, begging for free food, and sometimes I snuck onto public transportation.

How was that hike up to Mt Halla. I didn’t have a chance to get up there.

On Mt Halla, I was almost frozen dead since I didn’t realize the weather was drastically different than the hot and humid lowlands. There was ice at the top of the mountain. I was lucky to come across a hiking group. They were employees of the city bank in Cheju. They lent me blankets and gave me food.

Wow, bankers saved your life on the mountain. How did you survive traveling around the coast?

I traveled around cities and villages on the west side of the Island from there. It was the middle of a hot summer. There were a lot farmers working in the fields. I remember it was harvest season for green onions and potatoes. I helped them in exchange for food. But I hardly remember the Jeju food.

You must have eaten abalone and pork. I couldn’t get away from them.

That’s true. I had never eaten pork until I came to Jeju. The Jeju pork was so delicious, enough to change my food tastes.

Since it was summer, was it easy to find places to sleep?

I was sometimes able to find a place to sleep if I was lucky. The city halls or community halls were good places to sleep. The officers were kind enough to let me stay overnight, and they even shared some of their meals. They looked kindly on a high school student from Seoul, where most of them had never been, but wanted to go some day.

It sounds like being able to talk to the locals was no problem.

Actually, I could barely communicate with Jeju native people since their dialect was very far from standard Korean. However, there was always someone who was able to speak standard Korean. They were mostly veterans who learned standard Korean while in military service.

What an amazing adventure. How do you think that trip shaped who you are today?

I learned many lessons from that trip. The most important thing that I learned was, “Don’t be afraid of anything. Just try it.”

The photo is of my parent’s honeymoon in Jeju.  The boy in the middle is a relative, not me.  I don’t know why the picture came out streaky on flickr, but I can’t get rid of it.  Oh well.