An old man died recently. For a brief period in my childhood, measured easily in hours, I interacted with him and his family. They changed the course of my life. It was a small influence, barely more than the butterfly effect. But it mattered and I will always be grateful to them.
An early influence had showed me that you could be a skilled machinist/welder/cabinet maker and still revere beauty and practice creativity. When that influence ended I was left in a culture that did not value artistic creativity, especially in males. No guidance or instruction was available for visual artists between the finger painting stage and the high school drafting class. In between, you were completely on your own.
Without an adult to encourage me I was soon convinced there was something seriously wrong with me for wanting to create beauty or simply to draw. I understood the local social rules (universal as far as I knew) and the costs of breaking them. I never stopped drawing, but I did keep my drawings secret. It sucked.
Then one day this bearded, long-haired wild man showed up (think Willie and Waylon meets Page and Plant). I guess I hadn't hidden my drawings well enough after all because an adult said, "He draws too." That was amazing news, unprecedented and a little scary. There were two of us out there.
Except for the hair and the drawing, this person appeared completely normal. He could build and fix and operate machinery like other high-valued local people - and he could draw. Men liked him, the ladies loved him. He also painted and played musical instruments. He had been to far away places and hung out with famous people yet still fit in where I grew up... and he could draw - like me, he could draw.
Eventually I worked up the courage to show him one of my drawings. And do you know what he did? It wasn't what I expected, not what other adults did.
He did not praise me, he did not patronize me and he definitely did not pity me. He did not fawn over my pitiful attempts at drawing, he did not ridicule their childish character, and he did not caution me about wasting my life in such pursuits.
He showed me how to make a better line.
He taught me that you could lay the pencil on its side and vary the pressure or speed to create different effects. He explained that, no matter how hard I tried, I would never get dark values with a 2H pencil - that it wasn't my fault, that I had to go get myself a 6B because it was the appropriate tool. He did it all without making me feel like a child or stupid in any way. Not like a peer exactly, but like drawing was normal.
Maybe I wasn't as malformed as I had been led to believe.
A few days later he showed me hatching and cross-hatching techniques. Yes, a grown man sat down with a kid and took the time to cover several sheets of paper with different hatching techniques -- kind of like I did but with a lot more skill and confidence. He explained that it only took a few hundred hours to learn how to do it that well. Wait, a grown man had used all those hours just to get good at drawing and had survived? This was in direct contradiction to the local belief that drawing was a waste of time. I wasn't sure what to think by that point, but maybe there was hope for me after all.
Those two experiences (30 minutes total) would have been enough to make a difference in my life. Just knowing that there was one other flesh-and-blood person out there who drew for their own edification would have helped me. Getting confirmation that there were physical techniques to create visual and emotional impact validated all my previous efforts. Luckily for me, this man's entire family was like that. They were all skilled creators, artisans and crafters who worked in a variety of materials and fields - yet were otherwise totally normal.
Eventually, I wound up hanging out at the family's luthier shop. I didn't realize it at the time, but their work was kind of semi famous. Unless you are an aficionado, you may no longer recognize their name. But most of you would definitely still recognize the names of the people who do know about them.
None of that mattered to me. What mattered to me was that they worked to create beauty and they treated me like I was normal. Drawing was apparently just the tip of a huge creative iceberg. There were all kinds of ways to create.
In fact, the shop was filled with other men I recognized from the community. Well respected, upstanding members of society. But while they were in the shop they talked freely about shapes and curves and contours and tone and timbre. They worked hard, even struggled, to get materials to behave and adopt the shapes they wanted. The shop had specialized tools to make all those shapes - seemingly hundreds of specialty tools hanging from every wall and ceiling along with the half-completed skeletons of instruments and the stacks of raw wood in every corner.
It was a secret society that I had never known existed. I was smack in the middle of it and happy to be there. I was barely tall enough to see the top of the work table but I felt at home. And just like the bearded wild man, those men explained the tools to me and told me how they were used. Each tool had a name and a specific purpose. They all agreed that you needed to put the time in to learn how to use each tool to get the results you wanted. As they told me about the tools and how to use them they also told me about the men who had taught them how to use those tools.
Apparently, this process had been going on for generations. I was not alone and had never been alone.
When these normal looking men were finished with the sawing, planing, scraping, gluing, clamping inlay and staining (and so much more) they had a working musical instrument that was beautiful to look at, to hold and to play. If you could pick it, pluck it, bow it or thump it - one of the people in that shop could probably make one. They would often gather in a group and play music. The music made people feel something. Even the onlookers tapped their feet, danced or sang along. The men caused people to feel something using the very same instruments that they had just constructed out of raw wood. And strangely enough, they seemed to earn a living making and selling beautiful objects that made people feel things.
These men never bragged about it, maybe they didn't think of themselves as creative in the modern egotistical sense. But even as a child I realized that people wanted their work, would pay for the privilege of owning and using it, precisely because the creators cared so much about those shapes and curves and contours and tone and timbre. It was also the reward for putting in all that work to learn tools and techniques over the course of hundreds and hundreds of hours... or years... or even decades.
Today we would probably call it craftmanship. They just called it work. It's just what they did because that's how they did it. They did it that way because that's how they were taught. Sure, they made up new techniques and invented new tools. But that work ethic and attitude has proven to be eternal and universal among all the successful crafters and artists I have met.
For a variety of reasons, I lost access to the bearded Wildman along with his family and their studio soon afterwards. In total, I knew them for oh, maybe the equivalent of a single 40 hour semester. But in that short time I gained a knowledge that has served me well my entire life.
Reacting to beauty and wanting to create it does not make you strange or malformed. Everyone craves beauty. A lot of people want to create beauty. Few are willing to do the required work. People will pay you to create beauty for them. Creating beauty does not make you important. Having a good character is important. You are not the first and you should not be the last to create beauty. Learn from the elders. Teach the young ones. Teach the young ones about the elders. Learn your tools and take care of them. Be kind to each other.
That's a pretty good set of lessons for such a short time. The world wasn't exactly how it had so often been described to me. I had seen and met creators twice now, they all told me the same thing, and they all seemed to live good happy lives. That early influence was correct, the booster shot from the Wildman and luthiers worked and I never doubted the power of beauty again.
I made good use of those lessons and have made my living in a range of "creative professions." I had not given those early experiences much thought until I heard the old man had died. I felt a little guilty because I never properly expressed my thanks to him or his family. Then I learned that my experience was not a singular event. The Wildman's descendants could fill a small crafts fair all by themselves. The family's progeny could fill a large one. Throw in the shop's interns, students and kids who were lucky enough to hang around the work tables and you could fill a small town.
Now, when I work with kids or new creators I try to emulate the Wildman and his family even though social attitudes are very different. YouTube and the entire advertising industry are currently trying to convince everyone that they are already creators before they start the work. But I've noticed something... the kids who respond well to the ways of the Wildman and the luthiers often go on to successful creative careers. The ones who fear work drop away quickly. The ones who dig in and ask for more challenges stay and grow and become better at their chosen craft.
The old man and every creator like him lives on. The tradition continues, the elders pass on their knowledge and leave. The young ones who paid attention and took the lessons to heart live happy creative lives. Eventually, they too grow old and realize it's time to pass on the knowledge from and about their elders. The cycle continues and everyone is better for it. I am grateful to have been a part of it.
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Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
Use JavaScript to Decrement Loops in MakeCode
Just found out you can mix-and-match custom JavaScript code with blocks in Microsoft's MakeCode for Adafruit's Circuit Playground Express board.
At a recent maker meeting, one of the makers was trying to determine how to decrement a for-loop using the block editor inside MakeCode, but they couldn't find a way. The built-in for-loop always starts at zero, always increments by one, and always adds. So it's easy to loop from 0 to 255, but there didn't seem to be any way to count backwards from 255 back to 0.
There might be a way to use blocks to decrement a loop, but we went exploring inside the JavaScript editor instead.
Turns out, you can overwrite the blocks by editing the JavaScript code and using the traditional methods for counting down (set start at 255, change the test condition and use "--" instead of "++"). But we weren't sure how the custom code would behave - or if it would even appear in the blocks editor.
The customized code works perfectly fine, and it appears as a gray block with the custom code showing.
This example shows how to light up the LEDs in sequence from 0 to 10, then turn them off from 10 to 0. It's a simple example, but illustrates how the code appears inside the block editor.
It's great that an old text coder like me can work comfortably in MakeCode using traditional styles, but I need to explore to see if there's an easy way to do decrementing loops in the block editor. I'm fine with text-based coding, more comfortable than with blocks honestly - but I should know more about the block editor in case I ever have to help a new programmer.
If you know how please drop some knowledge in a comment.
At a recent maker meeting, one of the makers was trying to determine how to decrement a for-loop using the block editor inside MakeCode, but they couldn't find a way. The built-in for-loop always starts at zero, always increments by one, and always adds. So it's easy to loop from 0 to 255, but there didn't seem to be any way to count backwards from 255 back to 0.
There might be a way to use blocks to decrement a loop, but we went exploring inside the JavaScript editor instead.
Turns out, you can overwrite the blocks by editing the JavaScript code and using the traditional methods for counting down (set start at 255, change the test condition and use "--" instead of "++"). But we weren't sure how the custom code would behave - or if it would even appear in the blocks editor.
The customized code works perfectly fine, and it appears as a gray block with the custom code showing.
The custom JavaScript is shown in the gray block. The code was edited in the JavaScript mode. |
This example shows how to light up the LEDs in sequence from 0 to 10, then turn them off from 10 to 0. It's a simple example, but illustrates how the code appears inside the block editor.
It's great that an old text coder like me can work comfortably in MakeCode using traditional styles, but I need to explore to see if there's an easy way to do decrementing loops in the block editor. I'm fine with text-based coding, more comfortable than with blocks honestly - but I should know more about the block editor in case I ever have to help a new programmer.
If you know how please drop some knowledge in a comment.
Monday, July 16, 2018
Color-Wheel for HSB and NeoPixels
Here is a helpful color-wheel for using NeoPixels with the HSB color mode. I had to make a printable version when I switched from the RGB to HSB mode and thought I would share it here. I go into more detail on my Instructable for a visual tone piano.
HSB stands for HUE---SATURATION---BRILLIANCE and is just another way to represent the colors for NeoPixel code. I have used the RGB (red, green, blue) mode for so long the HSB mode threw me for a loop until I drew myself a picture of how it works.
I would have probably never used HSB unless Adafruit's amazing Circuit Playground board started using HSB as its beginner-friendly color mode. Now, Microsoft's MakeCode visual programming platform also offers HSB as an alternative to RGB. So I had to learn it.
I have used RGB, CMYK and even LAB color spaces in Photoshop and Illustrator, but had always avoided HSB for some reason. So I originally felt that HSB didn't give me the precise control I was used to. However, after using it for a while I have come to like it.
Being able to set a basic color with a single number, and modify its intensity with a second (and third) number is a quick and slick method. I might not be able to get the perfect sick-acid-green or a eye-popping-pink-gold with a single color number, but honestly, I don't need to for most of my applications. The 256 mixtures of primary color duos gives me enough choices for most basic applications. And it's certainly simpler for beginners.
I was so used to mixing color in RGB and CMYK modes that I thought it was simple. Then I watched some new users struggle to make the color they wanted. It was painful just to watch and I remembered how confusing and complicated it really is. Suddenly, the HSB mode made perfect sense to use as the default color mode.
Basically, the HSB model mixes from:
HSB stands for HUE---SATURATION---BRILLIANCE and is just another way to represent the colors for NeoPixel code. I have used the RGB (red, green, blue) mode for so long the HSB mode threw me for a loop until I drew myself a picture of how it works.
I would have probably never used HSB unless Adafruit's amazing Circuit Playground board started using HSB as its beginner-friendly color mode. Now, Microsoft's MakeCode visual programming platform also offers HSB as an alternative to RGB. So I had to learn it.
I have used RGB, CMYK and even LAB color spaces in Photoshop and Illustrator, but had always avoided HSB for some reason. So I originally felt that HSB didn't give me the precise control I was used to. However, after using it for a while I have come to like it.
Being able to set a basic color with a single number, and modify its intensity with a second (and third) number is a quick and slick method. I might not be able to get the perfect sick-acid-green or a eye-popping-pink-gold with a single color number, but honestly, I don't need to for most of my applications. The 256 mixtures of primary color duos gives me enough choices for most basic applications. And it's certainly simpler for beginners.
I was so used to mixing color in RGB and CMYK modes that I thought it was simple. Then I watched some new users struggle to make the color they wanted. It was painful just to watch and I remembered how confusing and complicated it really is. Suddenly, the HSB mode made perfect sense to use as the default color mode.
Basically, the HSB model mixes from:
- pure red,
- adds some green to make yellow,
- then subtracts red to get pure green,
- adds some blue to get blue-green,
- subtracts green to get pure blue,
- adds red to get purple,
- and subtracts blue to return to pure red
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Thursday, July 12, 2018
Publishing a Gap-Toothed Piano with Circuit Playground
Just got a great reminder of why it's important to publish your work and promote the work of other makers. I've been slacking recently, not publishing or documenting much of anything.
I am cycling away from jewelry-making and back to Arduino type projects. Working with jewelry gives me immediate feedback from real living people through sales and human interaction. I get tiny jolts of ego juice when people buy my stuff, not a lot of sales mind you, but enough to keep me going.
With the Arduino and industrial design stuff however, I had started to feel both overly egotistical (talking about my stuff all the time) and unsure if anyone really cares about the projects anyway. These types of projects can seem tedious to many people (all my friends) and the time-scale is so much longer that few people wait around for the pay-off. Who really wants to hear the details of a five-week project that includes coding, electronics, 3d printing and industrial design?
Then someone did one tiny thing and it helped me - they published something similar to my work.
I love it when I see professional designers come up with solutions that are similar to mine. When people I admire solve the same problem and get the same result, it makes me feel like I did something well.
I'm not designing professionally these days, but it still feels good - like maybe I've still got it - even when the professional's design is much better than mine. That little ego-boost is always pleasant, but it really means something when you're designing in isolation.
A few years ago I made a Musical Doodle Bug for an Instructable. It's a cute toy piano thingy with a gap-toothed face. You can play musical notes and arpeggios while LEDs light up to go along with the music. You can change the speed and octave just by rotating the object. You can change modes with buttons and switches. And I tried to make it kid friendly with a cute case made from common craft supplies. I wanted to make something with my favorite new Arduino board that included fun activities for all ages and skill levels.
Last week, I found a project from Adafruit (one of my favorite maker-centric companies) that used the same board that also played music with a cute, toothy face. Finding that project made me smile. Adafruit's version is much more refined and polished. But the basic approach is the same.
Even better, Adafruit is the maker and designer of the board used in the project. It's their Circuit Playground board, an all-in-one Arduino style board that comes complete with a huge collection of sensors and outputs built right onto the board. I fell in love with this wonderful board as soon as I saw it. It's perfect for new programmers and it's cheap. But it's also powerful enough for advanced designers and programmers to use in "real" projects.
I don't get much feedback on my Arduino projects since I'm the only one locally who really uses Arduinos and such. I enjoyed making the project, but I wasn't sure if it was any good. So when I saw the creators of the board design a project for it - that used just a few of the same elements and approaches that I used - well it made my day, it made me happy, it gave me confirmation. Maybe I was on the right track after all.
This might seem silly and trivial. (It's not the first or only "face piano" after all - no big deal.) If you work in a creative environment and are surrounded by skilled and talented designers all day, then you get constant feedback. You get confirmation and guidance from peers and end-users. Or, if you have a large local maker community you can reach out to them, talk to them in real life or even collaborate on projects.
But if you work in isolation, then it can be weeks or even months between comments from another person (typed and anonymous). It's difficult to know if you are on the right track, or know if any one else is even interested in the same things as you. I've annoyed dozens of local people promoting the joys and wonder of this type of making - to the point that their eyes glazed over. By this point I know I have to depend on the internet to provide feedback from like-minded designers and makers.
So here's a big shout out and thank you to everyone who publishes their projects - big or small, simple or sophisticated, artistic or practical. You folks help keep me going. And I'm sure I'm not the only one. There are people on remote jobsites, in small communities, or who just have family responsibilities that keep them from being part of a physical IRL community. We tinker and make and keep ourselves halfway motivated with very little outside feedback.
But if one tiny echo of my project can make me this happy and motivate me again, well it makes me want to publish more projects just in case there is one other person who is working on a similar project and needs some support.
BTW, Adafruit does an excellent job of both publishing and promoting other makers' work. Their skill at creating and nurturing a community is amazing. Their attitude is one of the reasons I'm still involved with electronics and Arduinos when everyone around me thinks it's weird and boring. A big shout out to them as well. Go visit their forums and participate.
Just remember - you are not alone. There are other people, normal people without a million subscribers, who tinker and putz in the basement or garage. It's good to hear from them and from you. I learn from you just like the big names. I am impressed by your work and your creativity. Please publish more of your projects. Help keep me motivated and I promise I will publish more in return.
I am cycling away from jewelry-making and back to Arduino type projects. Working with jewelry gives me immediate feedback from real living people through sales and human interaction. I get tiny jolts of ego juice when people buy my stuff, not a lot of sales mind you, but enough to keep me going.
With the Arduino and industrial design stuff however, I had started to feel both overly egotistical (talking about my stuff all the time) and unsure if anyone really cares about the projects anyway. These types of projects can seem tedious to many people (all my friends) and the time-scale is so much longer that few people wait around for the pay-off. Who really wants to hear the details of a five-week project that includes coding, electronics, 3d printing and industrial design?
Then someone did one tiny thing and it helped me - they published something similar to my work.
I love it when I see professional designers come up with solutions that are similar to mine. When people I admire solve the same problem and get the same result, it makes me feel like I did something well.
I'm not designing professionally these days, but it still feels good - like maybe I've still got it - even when the professional's design is much better than mine. That little ego-boost is always pleasant, but it really means something when you're designing in isolation.
A few years ago I made a Musical Doodle Bug for an Instructable. It's a cute toy piano thingy with a gap-toothed face. You can play musical notes and arpeggios while LEDs light up to go along with the music. You can change the speed and octave just by rotating the object. You can change modes with buttons and switches. And I tried to make it kid friendly with a cute case made from common craft supplies. I wanted to make something with my favorite new Arduino board that included fun activities for all ages and skill levels.
Last week, I found a project from Adafruit (one of my favorite maker-centric companies) that used the same board that also played music with a cute, toothy face. Finding that project made me smile. Adafruit's version is much more refined and polished. But the basic approach is the same.
Even better, Adafruit is the maker and designer of the board used in the project. It's their Circuit Playground board, an all-in-one Arduino style board that comes complete with a huge collection of sensors and outputs built right onto the board. I fell in love with this wonderful board as soon as I saw it. It's perfect for new programmers and it's cheap. But it's also powerful enough for advanced designers and programmers to use in "real" projects.
I don't get much feedback on my Arduino projects since I'm the only one locally who really uses Arduinos and such. I enjoyed making the project, but I wasn't sure if it was any good. So when I saw the creators of the board design a project for it - that used just a few of the same elements and approaches that I used - well it made my day, it made me happy, it gave me confirmation. Maybe I was on the right track after all.
This might seem silly and trivial. (It's not the first or only "face piano" after all - no big deal.) If you work in a creative environment and are surrounded by skilled and talented designers all day, then you get constant feedback. You get confirmation and guidance from peers and end-users. Or, if you have a large local maker community you can reach out to them, talk to them in real life or even collaborate on projects.
But if you work in isolation, then it can be weeks or even months between comments from another person (typed and anonymous). It's difficult to know if you are on the right track, or know if any one else is even interested in the same things as you. I've annoyed dozens of local people promoting the joys and wonder of this type of making - to the point that their eyes glazed over. By this point I know I have to depend on the internet to provide feedback from like-minded designers and makers.
So here's a big shout out and thank you to everyone who publishes their projects - big or small, simple or sophisticated, artistic or practical. You folks help keep me going. And I'm sure I'm not the only one. There are people on remote jobsites, in small communities, or who just have family responsibilities that keep them from being part of a physical IRL community. We tinker and make and keep ourselves halfway motivated with very little outside feedback.
But if one tiny echo of my project can make me this happy and motivate me again, well it makes me want to publish more projects just in case there is one other person who is working on a similar project and needs some support.
BTW, Adafruit does an excellent job of both publishing and promoting other makers' work. Their skill at creating and nurturing a community is amazing. Their attitude is one of the reasons I'm still involved with electronics and Arduinos when everyone around me thinks it's weird and boring. A big shout out to them as well. Go visit their forums and participate.
Just remember - you are not alone. There are other people, normal people without a million subscribers, who tinker and putz in the basement or garage. It's good to hear from them and from you. I learn from you just like the big names. I am impressed by your work and your creativity. Please publish more of your projects. Help keep me motivated and I promise I will publish more in return.
Tuesday, July 3, 2018
NeoPixels Behind Air Dry Clay
Tried a new material for diffusing NeoPixels and making jewelry - air dry clay. It didn't work out like I hoped, but the experiments were successful enough that I will continue to play with it.
Air-dry clay is very easy to work with. I think it handles more like real clay than polymer-clays like Sculpey. And you don't have to bake it, just let it dry (a real plus during the summer months).
I also use it to make quick molds and impressions.
I had some white clay (from Polyform) left over from another project, and I don't like to mix partially dried clay back into the main blob. So I decided to press some gears and cogs into the leftover clay to make a quick Steampunk jewelry pendant. With some paint and embellishments, this is a good technique to get a fun surface texture for jewelry.
I thought it would be translucent enough to make a good diffuser for a NeoPixel pendant. But the clay is actually fairly opaque at anything more than a millimeter thickness. That is way too thin to make jewelry with because air-dry clay is brittle and breaks easily (a backer board or thick parts are best for jewelry).
But I had accidently made some of the impressions from the gear so deep that the light from the NeoPixels shined through quite nicely. A few even poked all the way through. The rest of the piece are very thick however, so the pendant is sturdy. Overall, it creates a nice effect.
I need to paint the surfaces to make it prettier, but somehow leave the indentions unpainted. It might take a few tries to get something attractive. But air-dry clay is cheap and quick to work with. So I can try a lot of different techniques cheaply and quickly.
Also, I know that polymer clays have a wide variety of translucency. And my diffusing experiment with 3d printed NeoPixel jewelry proves that even PLA has different light transmitting qualities. So there might be other air-dry clay brands that work much better with technique. I'll keep you updated.
Air-dry clay is very easy to work with. I think it handles more like real clay than polymer-clays like Sculpey. And you don't have to bake it, just let it dry (a real plus during the summer months).
I also use it to make quick molds and impressions.
I had some white clay (from Polyform) left over from another project, and I don't like to mix partially dried clay back into the main blob. So I decided to press some gears and cogs into the leftover clay to make a quick Steampunk jewelry pendant. With some paint and embellishments, this is a good technique to get a fun surface texture for jewelry.
I thought it would be translucent enough to make a good diffuser for a NeoPixel pendant. But the clay is actually fairly opaque at anything more than a millimeter thickness. That is way too thin to make jewelry with because air-dry clay is brittle and breaks easily (a backer board or thick parts are best for jewelry).
You can see that the NeoPixel lights only show through where the clay is very thin. Luckily, the rest of the pendant is thick and makes for a strurdy piece of Steampunk jewelry. |
But I had accidently made some of the impressions from the gear so deep that the light from the NeoPixels shined through quite nicely. A few even poked all the way through. The rest of the piece are very thick however, so the pendant is sturdy. Overall, it creates a nice effect.
I need to paint the surfaces to make it prettier, but somehow leave the indentions unpainted. It might take a few tries to get something attractive. But air-dry clay is cheap and quick to work with. So I can try a lot of different techniques cheaply and quickly.
Also, I know that polymer clays have a wide variety of translucency. And my diffusing experiment with 3d printed NeoPixel jewelry proves that even PLA has different light transmitting qualities. So there might be other air-dry clay brands that work much better with technique. I'll keep you updated.
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