“Growing” 3D printed objects

I found this demonstration and talk by Joseph DeSimone of Carbon 3D, explaining a new method of 3D printing where the elements are sort of “grown”, really interesting.

I’ve been fortunate enough in my current role to be able to explore 3D printing—working with great peeps like Mel Fuller from Three Farm and Matthew Connolly from me3D in teaching this technology to young folks.

It’s really piqued my interest—I’m fascinated by the possibilities. I’ve been looking into various approaches to 3D printing bikes (perhaps unsurprisingly!), among other things. But I also see potential in creating parts for things like robotics projects.

One of my “alternate lives” would be an industrial designer. I’ve long had an interest in building things in real life (starting with my love of LEGO, but extending to radio control cars, and dreams of being a robotics engineer at one point). But I’ve never quite had the skills or equipment to pull that off. I thought about heading back into study of industrial design at one point, but wasn’t quite convinced it was the right path for me.

What I’m finding most inspiring/interesting about 3D printing is that it brings into reach many of things that I always dreamt of being able to do. I was very excited recently to be able to 3D print an iPhone stand for a custom application at work. Not knowing how to use the software at the start of the day, we were able to get a first prototype designed and printed within the space of a few hours.

Speed and strength are two key issues with the resulting output for some applications. For example, if I was still actively working on RC cars, I can see countless opportunities for customisations and enhancements using 3D printed parts, but they would need to be quite strong.

The Carbon 3D technology is much faster, supports a wide range of source materials, and is stronger—so seems to address a lot of those issues.

I also think about applying this sort of thing to creating the robot pieces that I envisaged when I was a youngster, attempting (unsuccessfully) to build a robot with an articulated arm out of wood.

Combined with my ongoing interest with robots and technologies like the Raspberry Pi and Arduino, I see the potential to fulfil those childhood/teenage dreams.

Suffice to say I’m finding the whole “digital making” space very inspiring at a personal level (and wishing I had more time in my professional capacity to explore and play with the tech that we’re teaching at IDX!)

Hippy bifday to me…

I’m having a birthday.

One that ends in a “Zero”.

Wanting to do something small to mark the occasion.

Doing two things:

  1. Seeing Death Cab for Cutie on 1 August at the Opera House. 10 years ago, I celebrated my birthday by going to see DCFC at Home in Darling Harbour. Great show. Figured given the timing being not far away from my birthday again, that this show would be a fitting “revisit”. Given the nature of the latest album, being a bit more about “growing up”, also a little poignant. The last show Ang and I saw at the Opera House (heh: from “Home” to the “House”)—Elbow—was amazing. We discovered a little gem near Wynyard serving a tremendous selection of boutique beers on tap called Frankie’s Pizza. Seems like the perfect start to the evening. So kicking off there about 5ish. Dinner. Then the show.

  2. I live in Katoomba now. I love the place. I feel my roots starting to dig in up here. And it’s a long way from Circular Quay 😉 So, I’d really like to do something close to home to mark the occasion as well. I’m away on business on my actual birthday (in Darwin, attending/co-facilitating/participating in the Broadband for the Bush Forum), but figured I might just hole up at Station Bar, one of our favourite joints up this way—and perhaps unsurprisingly one that usually has a great selection of boutique beers on tap (noticing a theme here?). Date: Saturday 18 July. Time: 6pm+.

’twill be low key. But fun… If you’re reading this, there’s a good chance it’d be great to have you there 🙂

So, if you’re up for it let me know which/when/where in the comments so I can book tables and stuff…

Reconnecting with music

I’ve been trying to reconnect with the art of having fun making music.

Anyone that knows me well knows that making and performing music has been a big part of my life for, like, forever.

But since Fuzu called it a day, in part due to my sojourn into Sustainable Practice at uni, I’ve found it hard to reconnect with any particular musical venture.

I had the support of some great musician friends to record an EP last year, but that project feels like it’s stalled. Which is disappointing. If only because I feel like I’m dishonouring the effort and creativity of the folks involved. It don’t treat that lightly.

But, to be honest, I’d forgotten the tremendous amount of energy and headspace required to do justice to a project like that. My previous efforts were all group efforts—with a band, where each member contributed some forward momentum to the process. This project felt different, as it was to record something akin to a “solo” project. And a lot of hard work. To co-ordinate. To write. To rehearse. To arrange. To perform. To mix. To promote. To turn it into “something”. Something of note. Something to carry forward. Something that begins something else.

After many years doing the whole “band thing”, I recognise and acknowledge that if you want to make it in the business, you have to treat it like a business. And after many years of trying to do that, I am at a point where I think I’ve worked out I don’t actually want it to be a business.

I want to reconnect with the feeling that I get when inspiration strikes. A sense that you are a conduit for something more. Something outside yourself.

That sense of flow that you get where you lose an hour evolving and developing a riff. A verse. A lyrical idea. An arrangement.

That sense of camaraderie that emerges from being in a room with other musicians and you create something that feels bigger than yourself.

A synergy.

A spark that begets a spark that is transformed into something to share. And when another human connects with that, to honour that mutual sense of connection. Of a shared experience, emotion, sentiment, imagery.

For the longest time I’d start a song, or a project, and enjoy that creative process. I’d enjoy the opportunity to get in front of an audience (with a bit of marketing and relationship building with venues/bookers etc.). And to experience all that.

Times have changed.

My professional life requires a lot more headspace.

To even get a gig now requires a solid Facebook following. And a guaranteed audience.

I get that. I understand.

But I’ve come to realise that’s not what I connect with music around.

So… letting go of some of that, I decided I need to revisit the sorts of behaviours that got me started. And to let go of some of the baggage around the whole “making music” thing.

A new song doesn’t have to be a launching point for an EP or recording project.

A jam doesn’t have to be the launching point for a band.

A performance doesn’t have to be at a commercial venue.

So, I’ve been attending the Western Fringe songwriting sessions here in Katoomba. Stewart Peters and Snez have been organising these for some time (and until recently they were running at Parramatta at, the now defunct, Mars Hill Cafe).

Watching Stewart and Snez perform at those sessions was inspiring. It reminded me about the “why?” A passion for connecting with the creative spirit. To express oneself. To enjoy the process.

Since I’ve started attending the sessions, two songs have flowed. Not a lot (esp. compared to what I used to produce), but a start. And I’ve enjoyed reconnecting with the art. With that spirit. And having a small audience to share that with—not necessarily having to have it finished, polished, recorded, marketed, rehearsed, socialised via facebook et. al.

To just create. For the sake of it.

I was speaking to one of my besties the other day, and he was advocating the virtues of just woodshedding on your instrument. To find flow running scales, transcribing a favourite line, playing along with someone else’s work. And, importantly, not having to come up with something new.

There’s something very strongly appealing to me about that.

I remember many hours spent working out (and later transcribing) bass lines at home and at uni. ‘Shedding on scales and patterns from instructional videos from John Patitucci and other inspiring players. There was a joy. In the challenge. In the flow. In the developing of one’s own “voice” on the instrument, through understanding what you liked in others’. To find resonance with/in what others’ have got to say. And to pass that forward.

So I think I’ll be setting aside some time in the coming weeks to give it a go.

In the hope I can rekindle that connection to what is important to me about music.

To understand and process the world around me.

To express my emotions. To transform negative energy and experiences into something positive. (And to celebrate the positive stuff too.)

Quieting the inner critic

One thing I keep hearing is that I’m verbose. That I like complexity. That I’m technical.

I’ve decided that here is not about listening to those voices. Here is about me unpacking the world and digging for answers. Or failing that, at least insights. If it’s verbose, complex, boring, convoluted, unclear, lacking a point… that’s ok.

Perhaps in expressing the “unfiltered” version here, I’ll be more succinct, less technical, and express an elegant simplicity in other aspects of my life. We’ll see 😉

Letting go

It’s been forever since I just wrote a blog.

Just about something of interest. Something that makes me mad. Got me inspired. Something that just happened.

Not a series (though I still have hopes to do some of that too). Not “adding value”, other than in a sense of self expression (that someone else might connect with, but that’s not a requirement/intent). Just trying to make sense of the world.

That’s sort of come about as my work has centred more and more around doing what I consider valuable to work in, with and for communities.

A sense that I have to have something important to say. To share completed ideas. To somehow contribute to this (slippery) sense of “thought leadership”.

And a little bit of fear that what I might say might be misconstrued, or somehow impact my ability to do play the role I wish to play in my professional sphere.

Consider this a first attempt to break the pattern of “stop energy”.

To just reconnect with the idea of blogging. The thing that got me excited all those years ago (I started blogging around 2002, my current blog has entries back to 2003).

To have a voice in the wilderness.

To share.

To challenge.

To be challenged.

To learn.

To live true to the tagline that I started with, that inspired the name of this blog: “Thoughts that made it to the page.”