Saturday, March 04, 2023

The Boy with Stars on his Back written by Me and the Playground.




Disclaimer: I, the author, hereby referred to in this statement as me, myself, or I,  generated this text in part with the generative pre-trained transformer version 3 using the davinci-3 model, OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model.

Upon generating the draft language, I reviewed, edited, and revised the language prior to publishing the output and I take ultimate responsibility for the content of this publication.

The image illustrating this post (for which I am wholly responsible) was generated from an original prompt by me and input into Dall-E2:

"highly photorealistic rendering of the skin of a boy's back with a tattoo of stars in an unknown constellation. the boys back is pressed against the curtains which are bending through the wall of the family house into a sunny beach in the mountains on a rainy day."

Prompt by me:

Write a third-person omniscient narrator point of view story about a family whose youngest child of three, Winston, learns he has a tattoo on his back of a star constellation and any time his family presses the tattoo against a surface, they tell him to shut his eyes and they vanish. As he grows up, he learns that his tattoo turns any surface into a temporary one way portal to anywhere so long as the anywhere in question is real and so long as the traveller has a firm intention to go to specific place they have been to previously by normal means. Over time, Winston begins to resent how he's often kept at home as a convenience for the rest of the family so grocery runs, school attendance, and work commuting are easier for everyone. Finally his feelings of being used as an object spill out and he does two things he was told never to do: use the star constellation on his back to travel through a portal and do so with no intention of anywhere specific, real or imagined. As he passes through the portal to the screams of his angry family who want to stop him he is turned into a beautiful kestrel which appears on the other side of the wall in the lane behind their house. The story ends with Winston, now a kestrel with irregular markings across its wings that look like a constellation of stars, flying higher and higher, singing with joy while people below look for the eagle which is not there and ignore the kestrel which is. Response by the Playground (full :

Winston was the youngest of three children in the family, and he was always a bit of a mystery. As he grew up, he began to notice that he had a strange tattoo on his backa constellation of stars. Any time his family pressed the tattoo against a surface, they told him to close his eyes and they would vanish. Winston had no idea what was going on and he was too scared to ask. As Winston grew older, he started to realize that the tattoo on his back held a special powerit could turn any surface into a portal to anywhere in the world. As long as the place was real, and the traveller had visited it before, they could travel through the portal. Winston's family soon started using him as a convenient way to get around. Grocery runs, school attendance, and work commutes were all a lot easier with Winston's power to open portals. Winston was beginning to resent being used as a tool, and he longed for his freedom. Finally, one day, Winston decided to take a stand. He did two things he was told never to dohe used the star constellation on his back to travel through a portal, and he did so with no intention of anywhere specific. As he passed through the portal, his angry family screamed at him to stop, but it was too late. On the other side of the wall in the lane behind their house, Winston found himself transformed into a beautiful kestrel. To the surprise of the people below, a kestrel with irregular markings across its wingslike a constellation of starswas soaring high into the sky, singing with joy. The eagle they were looking for was nowhere to be found, but the kestrel was impossible to ignore. And so Winston, the youngest child of three, flew higher and higher, free at last.

Friday, December 09, 2022

Outline of a design primer for 10-13 year olds. Bring design into the core curriculum please.

1. Sketch of Section 2: Gathering Information

Who designs?

Anybody with a problem who is willing to solve it.


What is a design?

While there are many definitions in a dictionary, we define design as any plan for a solution to a problem.


Where are designs used?

Everywhere. There can be design without a designer. Many problems in a changing environment are solved through variation, selection, and multiplication (imperfect copies) of successful designs.


When are designs created?

For us, whenever something is seen as a problem, we start imagining solutions. If we create a plan someone else can follow then we have a design.


How are designs created?

There are as many ways to create a design as there are ways to solve a problem.


Why are designs created?

Designs are one possible response to a problem but there are alternatives. We can simply endure the problem or see the problem as something other than a problem. Computer programmers joke ‘it's a feature, not a bug’ and sometimes they really mean it.


What is the difference between art and design?


Art is freedom from any constraints beyond the aesthetic (of the artist).

Design is fitness for a particular purpose.


An umbrella has high utility for keeping the rain off your head and low utility as a chair.

A chair has high utility for sitting and low utility for keeping the rain off your head.


All made things have a design behind them (intentional or unintentional).

All living things have a design behind them (but no designer).


As long as we live in a world of messy people acting, reacting, and interacting, we will face new problems so we will need new designs.

2. Outline Sketch of a design primer for 10-13 year olds.

  • Front Matter
  • Table of Contents
  • Introduction and Acknowledgements
  • Letter to the Student
  • Letter to the Teacher
  • Section 1: Design Elements and Principles
    • Elements: SEE FESTIVALS
    • Principles: IMPROV CABBAGE
    • Exercises:
  • Section 2: Gathering information
    • Who designs?
    • What is a design?
    • Where are designs used?
    • When are designs created?
    • How are designs created?
    • Why are designs created?
    • What is the difference between art and design?
  • Section 3: Typeface Sign and Syntax
    • Letter
    • Word
    • Line
    • Margin
    • Column
  • Glossary
  • Index
  • Bibliography


Monday, August 29, 2022

Wednesday, March 02, 2022

Write it Now or Lose it Forever: Free-Writing as Pre-Writing

Before criticism, concern, cohesion, cohesiveness, concision, correctness or congruence, comes free-writing.

It is a stream of nearly-naked consciousness clapped roughly together in loosely bound words.

Write whatever comes to mind, even if it's 'I don't know what to write.'

Think but don't overthink; any stimulus from the environment you notice can be written down. 

Write with a loose hand. No death grip!

Write your feelings, even what you last ate. Every thought is valid at this stage merely because you think it.

Essay, journal, report, story, poem, anything goes.

Write only forward, never back, erase nothing, read nothing. start a new paragraph any time you feel like it, especially with a new train of thought.

Underline, circle, draw an arrow, anything goes! Write your plans for the day, the weekend, anything goes!

The only rule is to put one word in front of another.

Write fast or slow. telegraphic or run-on sentences punctuated by fragments. Just drain the brain. Get everything out here on the page where you can work with it.

Finally, before reading, let your words settle. A day is preferred by many but trust you will find your time.


Tuesday, March 01, 2022

Night Machines

They used an easy cipher requiring only card stock and a knowledge of 80s American family sitcoms. It was so simple the first lead investigator was too late for them but their connection was early so they caught it.

The investigators knew their business. Their last known address was a tourist motel across the street from a gothic cathedral.

An accomplice rode their torpedo motorcycle from the scene.

Philip (number 11: the Florist) investigated. the singular lead to their whereabouts was a parking ticket but the plates came up stolen two nights ago from a caterpillar scooter.

The plates smelled of coriander leaves and burnt honey. It was on the tip of a fleeting memory, caramelised onions and sharp chutney on the tongue.

In time, it would rise.

Wednesday, January 06, 2021

Spring Flutters

Damp wool,
metallic pine,
candle flicker,
eave sparrows,
creaky couch,
old fire,
cold mountain.





Tuesday, January 05, 2021

Start reading a book from a random page.

picked it up and a familiar voice spoke to her.
    "Can you hear me?"
    "You left this behind on purpose."
    "I did."
    "You're in exile, that means every part of you, you don't get to be a voice in my house."
    "You could turn off the comm."
    She said nothing, but he could see her pulse and heart rate through the comm sensors.
    "Why did you leave it behind?"
    "In case I got lonely," he lied.
    "Do you, though?" she asked.
    "These horse pirates your people dumped me on say so."
    "Because you're not playing any of their games?"
    "I won't dignify what they do as any sort of game."
    "Is this what you missed?"
    "Me getting pin-cushioned by you? Yeah, I guess it is."
    "I'm shutting you off now."
    "That's your choice, goodnight then."
    She clicked the comm off. The screen went dark. But was it really off? She didn't bother to tinker and dropped it in her shop box and shoved the box under her work table in the barn. 
    Tomorrow would be soon enough.
    Somewhere past Great Bear Lake, beyond the finger cities, he returned his comm to its holder and listened to the strains of an unfamiliar melody in the dim light of the horse pirate camp.

Saturday, December 26, 2020

Grizzly Bears Don't Fly Airplanes.

This year has been one with many reasons not to write. However the listener hears and makes sense of this, I did not listen. One hand wrote purple prose. Porch doors, all screens and slap and springs that need oiling. One hand pressed delete. Receptive. Dreaming. Release. Cinnamon and camphor. Five minutes was more and less than what could be spared. Still your heart, breathe, do some exercise but nothing strenuous four hours before bedtime. Wear sunscreen, that song still itching under the frosting of my cake. Unliving, it spreads through willing hosts. Speaking plainly is for tomorrow. This is boxing day when servants voyage home to families with boxes from their employers. Fingers are limber. On to the work we can neither finish nor desist from and all this jazz.



Gropius in 12 lines times 4 words

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