There was a very nice young man at my door today; he lives in my building and he's a student with a photography major. He was doing a project of some kind, which involved taking impromptu shots of the living rooms of different people, and he wanted to know if I would allow him to photograph mine. I couldn't see any serious objection to it, so I agreed, and he was one delightful guy.
He came about an hour later with his equipment: a huge camera, using 70 mm film, a light meter, and a studio light on a tripod stand. He set up the light, and showed us how the light meter works. He took different shots and angles of the room, talking about his equipment, what he does, and asking about what we do. He talked about his stay in Paris, and how energizing and humbling an experience it was, to realize how large the world was, because Americans usually grow up thinking that America is the end of the world. There wasn't a single silent moment. His excitement and his love for what he does was palpable in every word he spoke.
It's always something new for Indians, to meet such people who are, as we put it, "always excited", because we as a people are so reserved in our manner. We seem to believe in keeping our emotions to ourselves, something that has come from a couple of centuries of British rule, no doubt, because those people are the last word in reserve of manner. I used to be quite a 'hyperactive' individual myself, but years of exile in a land of 'dull' people have worn me out, enough that it's somewhat of a wake up call when I see such an 'excited' individual. They are just so much more expressive than we are.
His project got me thinking too. I don't exactly know how he's putting it together, but the immediate vision that appeared to my mind when he mentioned his project was one of a huge collage, on a white background, of several different photographs of different living rooms, each photograph having on the back of it, a short precise description of the people whose living room it was. It got me thinking. If someone were to see my living room, or photos of it, without ever having met me or knowing anything about me, what conclusion would they come to?
I vaguely remember something of this nature being talked about by that wonderful young writer Malcolm Gladwell in his book Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking. It was something to do with how much you could learn about someone by spending just ten minutes in their bedroom, compared with how much you could learn by going out with them for lunch everyday for a month (or something of the kind. I don't have the book at hand, so I don't have exact details). And that's a great book by the way, definitely worth a read (several, actually), and worth buying.
Of course, there are two views you can take of anything. The same thing might suggest a positive trait to one mind and a negative one to another. My living room is something like this. One half of the room is completely clear. And by clear, I mean that there is nothing but the carpet, and the internet modem and router, and associated wires. Occasionally you might find a couple of laptops and phone chargers lying the corner, somewhat out of the way. The other half is complete chaos. There are three tables, black ebony wood, standing against the three walls. Each table has a set of built in shelves, stacked with various things including textbooks, stationery, CDs, bags, flash drives, portable hard disks and other things which are good to keep handy. The tabletops themselves, usually have books and papers scattered on them, cleared up only when the table is actually used for writing or studying.
There is a chair to each table, and occasionally there may be a jacket lying on a chair. There is a printer in one corner, covered by a cloth except when in use, and its power cord and USB cable are within sight. The printer's box, as well as that of one of the laptops is also in the same corner, albeit not very neatly arranged. There are also various bags, but no guesses as to the contents. A laptop bag in the same place reclines against my table, which is located on one side of this corner.
The shelves of my own table also include, apart from what has already been mentioned, books for general reading, the college academic catalogue, stacks of coins, an i-Pod charger, a point-and-shoot camera and its USB cable, and binders containing class notes. The top of my table usually carries a mug with a steel spoon, some tissues, my i-Pod, phone, laptop, spectacles, a four-foot long pair of tube-lights in their holder, a couple of hair accessories, my contact lenses' pouch and cleaning solution, and several sheets of paper containing scratch work. If I'm at home, add a flexible binder containing the notes of the day's classes, and maybe my set of house keys too. My chair may also hold a towel, a pair of jeans or shorts, or a t-shirt, apart from the jacket.
So what does such a vision suggest to you? Of course, one can't escape the clues that lead to the conclusion of a student-run household - the textbooks are the biggest giveaway, as are the abundance of filler paper and class notes. Of course, this is my place, so nothing would strike me about it, except that it's familiar and it's normal... but you, oh reader, are not constrained thus... but perhaps I can ask questions to guide thinking?
What ideas do the following things inspire, for a start?
He came about an hour later with his equipment: a huge camera, using 70 mm film, a light meter, and a studio light on a tripod stand. He set up the light, and showed us how the light meter works. He took different shots and angles of the room, talking about his equipment, what he does, and asking about what we do. He talked about his stay in Paris, and how energizing and humbling an experience it was, to realize how large the world was, because Americans usually grow up thinking that America is the end of the world. There wasn't a single silent moment. His excitement and his love for what he does was palpable in every word he spoke.
It's always something new for Indians, to meet such people who are, as we put it, "always excited", because we as a people are so reserved in our manner. We seem to believe in keeping our emotions to ourselves, something that has come from a couple of centuries of British rule, no doubt, because those people are the last word in reserve of manner. I used to be quite a 'hyperactive' individual myself, but years of exile in a land of 'dull' people have worn me out, enough that it's somewhat of a wake up call when I see such an 'excited' individual. They are just so much more expressive than we are.
His project got me thinking too. I don't exactly know how he's putting it together, but the immediate vision that appeared to my mind when he mentioned his project was one of a huge collage, on a white background, of several different photographs of different living rooms, each photograph having on the back of it, a short precise description of the people whose living room it was. It got me thinking. If someone were to see my living room, or photos of it, without ever having met me or knowing anything about me, what conclusion would they come to?
I vaguely remember something of this nature being talked about by that wonderful young writer Malcolm Gladwell in his book Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking. It was something to do with how much you could learn about someone by spending just ten minutes in their bedroom, compared with how much you could learn by going out with them for lunch everyday for a month (or something of the kind. I don't have the book at hand, so I don't have exact details). And that's a great book by the way, definitely worth a read (several, actually), and worth buying.
Of course, there are two views you can take of anything. The same thing might suggest a positive trait to one mind and a negative one to another. My living room is something like this. One half of the room is completely clear. And by clear, I mean that there is nothing but the carpet, and the internet modem and router, and associated wires. Occasionally you might find a couple of laptops and phone chargers lying the corner, somewhat out of the way. The other half is complete chaos. There are three tables, black ebony wood, standing against the three walls. Each table has a set of built in shelves, stacked with various things including textbooks, stationery, CDs, bags, flash drives, portable hard disks and other things which are good to keep handy. The tabletops themselves, usually have books and papers scattered on them, cleared up only when the table is actually used for writing or studying.
There is a chair to each table, and occasionally there may be a jacket lying on a chair. There is a printer in one corner, covered by a cloth except when in use, and its power cord and USB cable are within sight. The printer's box, as well as that of one of the laptops is also in the same corner, albeit not very neatly arranged. There are also various bags, but no guesses as to the contents. A laptop bag in the same place reclines against my table, which is located on one side of this corner.
The shelves of my own table also include, apart from what has already been mentioned, books for general reading, the college academic catalogue, stacks of coins, an i-Pod charger, a point-and-shoot camera and its USB cable, and binders containing class notes. The top of my table usually carries a mug with a steel spoon, some tissues, my i-Pod, phone, laptop, spectacles, a four-foot long pair of tube-lights in their holder, a couple of hair accessories, my contact lenses' pouch and cleaning solution, and several sheets of paper containing scratch work. If I'm at home, add a flexible binder containing the notes of the day's classes, and maybe my set of house keys too. My chair may also hold a towel, a pair of jeans or shorts, or a t-shirt, apart from the jacket.
So what does such a vision suggest to you? Of course, one can't escape the clues that lead to the conclusion of a student-run household - the textbooks are the biggest giveaway, as are the abundance of filler paper and class notes. Of course, this is my place, so nothing would strike me about it, except that it's familiar and it's normal... but you, oh reader, are not constrained thus... but perhaps I can ask questions to guide thinking?
What ideas do the following things inspire, for a start?
- One half of the room is clear, and the other cluttered.
- Each person has a different number of books - one person has very few while another has nothing but books.
- One table has an excess of scratch paper.
- There are no other photos or personal memoirs on any table.
- One table has what looks like a personal diary.
- One table has a plate with bread crumbs on it, next to several pages written and initialed in very neat handwriting.
- The various clothes lying on the chairs.
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