• Good Zoom fortune: two good meetings and a therapy session in one day.
  • R.A.P. Ferreira’s virtual cafe promoting his upcoming album, bob’s son. So cool and inspiring.
  • Even more concrete grinding philosophy, if you can bear it:
    • The status of “cleaned” concrete versus “not cleaned” concrete is not binary. It takes dozens of passes, over minutes, to remove the mastic or whatever type of schmutz from a given patch of concrete floor. And even then you can’t really be sure that some trace of the mastic doesn’t persist in the concrete’s porous surface. So concrete grinding is a matter of pragmatic best-guessing. You grind until it looks clean enough.
    • Compare that to scraping paint off glass. The glass isn’t very permeable so it’s easy to see when it’s gone, and it usually only takes one pass. That feels neat, while concrete grinding feels messy. We want to know when the job is done.
    • But I wonder whether they’re really so different. If you took a microscope to the glass surface just after cleaning, wouldn’t you still see some paint residue? No? Never mind. Yes? Well, then cleaning glass is a matter of “clean enough” too.
    • Then things get really weird when you think about computers. In graphics software, for example, every “object” is discrete and absolutely knowable. You can tell everything about them, exactly, at any time: where they are on the plane, the exact colors they’re filled with, and anything else. And that seems like glass, not concrete; the shapes are either there or not there, red or blue. Nothing like the world of “clean enough.”
    • But even those discrete shapes are undergirded by continuous, unstable, physical phenomena. Computers are made of electrical components that have thresholds. That is, they’re not either “on” or “off”; they’re “off until a very specific amount of electricity is provided to me” — and from what I understand, the amount that component “wants” may not even be the same every time (depending on temperature, manufacturing impurities, whatever). So the discreteness and the absoluteness of the shape on the screen are fictions facilitated by things that are messy, the way all physical things are.
    • So what? This makes me think about what things we do, if anything, without doing them long enough or enough times to get the result we’re looking for. Or things we do without enough visibility into the process to see when we’ve reached “enough.”
    • And it makes me think about permeability. I said the concrete and the glass may not be so different, but they definitely feel different to work with. And that’s meaningful. So what acts or goals or whatevers feel different because their materials are more permeable, hanging on to and being suffused with whatever stuff they’ve come into contact with?