Simple but not Simpler Art and Math

Laszlo Moholy-Nagy Oil on Canvas 1922




"Out of an infinity of designs, a mathematician chooses one pattern for beauty's sake and pulls it down to earth."     ---Marston Morse (1892-1977), IAS mathematician

As I read through a book on the history of the Institute for Advanced Study, I run across this quote above which captures my attention.  While my personal knowledge of math ends with Freshmen level "Calculus for Business," I immediately appreciate and understand this quote.  We have been living here at the Institute of Advanced Study for three months now.  As I walk from family housing passed Fuld Hall to join my husband for lunch, I imagine myself taking the same footpaths that Einstein or von Neumann or Oppenheimer or Godel might have taken.   I have come to realize that math research is a creative activity which produces abstract beauty. 

At the same time, we have had the good fortune of visiting my in-laws in New York City several times in this Fall. My mother-in-law introduced me to the Bauhaus approach to design. On our last visit, she generously gave me her collection of Bauhaus books (so she could buy new books).  So, I have also been pouring the history and designs of Gropius, Klee, Kandinsky, Albers and my favorite, Laszlo Moholy-Nagy.

I can't help but see a similarity between the the Institute of Advanced Study and The Bauhaus School of design in Germany (both a community communities focused on the advancement of original thought and art). One explicit connection is the fact that the IAS family housing (the apartment that we live in now) was designed by Bauhaus designer Marcel Breuer. 

Connections between math and art have been made before, but I see a relationship between the specific design values of the Bauhaus School and math: the clean simple, yet bold lines of Bauhaus (see Maholy-Nagy's image above) and the idea that mathematical creatives find bold, simple patterns to explain complexity. The aesthetic value of math is simplicity. In reference to math, Einstein famously said, "Make everything as simple as possible, but not simpler" ...which makes for a very good design principle as well. 

Antiquing in Pittsburgh

We spent this Thanksgiving in Pittsburgh with David's brother and parents.  Yesterday, my sister-in-law, mother-in-law and I decided it was time for some shopping pleasure. Here are some images from our antiquing adventure in Pittsburgh's Strip District. I like the juxtaposition of random, colorful, kitchy objects that seem rather whimsical when taken out of their original context.

On the 4th Anniversary.

Princeton Battlefield Park. 6:00 AM

This past Wednesday was the 4^th anniversary of my cancer diagnosis.  I am in remission now (perhaps complete remission).  I think about my cancer experience more than just one day a year, but I do use the yearly milestone to stop and collect my thoughts about my life as I move further and further away from October 26, 2008.

I still remember feeling like I only had months (weeks? days?) left.  With every friend that I lose to cancer, I still wonder why I am still around. As I start to see grey hair coming in, I try to remember that I once envied older people because they got to grow old.

I have become very, very intolerant of activities in my life that seem like a waste of time, that are meaningless.  Knowing that life is a gift that only lasts a brief moment, I have become a cruel editor….slashing whole paragraphs of activities that seem pointless, revising the professional aspects of my life that need more direction, more precision.  Demanding a thesis sentence that pulls my whole life together.  This is a hard way to live.  

Steve Jobs said in his commecment speech,  "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something." 

He gave this message to an audience of young graduates looking for advice, but the reality is that it's hard to live a 'Steve Jobs' life. 

I must say that my family continues to ground me. I find so much satisfaction in the simple pleasures of home. While I often get frustrated and stressed about balancing my personal and professional life, my family is the metronome that gives me a regular and steady beat against the chaos and cacophony of work. At the end of the day (make that 'at the end of each day'), I kiss Emma goodnight and I see why I am still around. My family needs a mother, wife and daughter.  

As a result of reading several books on health and nutrition, we have made several lifestyle changes as a family. We are eating less meat and more fruits and veggies.  I have been sort of good about exercising, but I have fallen off my routine now since moving to Princeton.  I can't exercise on my treadmill in a closet like I used to in Austin. (I close my eyes. It's like meditation.)  I am very aware of the importance of sleep for good health, but I still struggle in that area. 

All of these lifestyle changes have made a difference on my health. My oncologist, internist and pulminologist were all very pleased with my last round of labs tests/CT scans.  Not knowing exactly why or how non-Hodgkins Lymphoma cells started multiplying in my liver, I try to give my body everything it needs to prevent them from returning. I am thankful that four years ago, we attacked these carcinogenic cells with the strongest, most powerful form of chemotherapy (Rituxan) cleared by the FDA.  I would do it again if necessary.

Princeton Battlefield Park 6:03 AM

Here is a quote that seems to make the rounds in survivor circles.  It summarizes how I feel about cancer survivorship.

"Cancer changes your life, often for the better. You learn what’s important, you learn to prioritize, and you learn not to waste your time. You tell people you love them. My friend Gilda Radner (who died of ovarian cancer in 1989 at age 42) used to say, ‘If it wasn’t for the downside, having cancer would be the best thing and everyone would want it.’ That’s true. If it wasn’t for the downside." ~Joel Siegel on American Morning, CNN, June 13, 2003 

Princeton's Underbelly

 

We are into our second month of our "Princeton adventure."  Like a friend who promised to write home everyday,  I have written many blog posts in my head.  Work (always work), setting up house, and finding the quickest route to Target are just some of the things that have kept me away from actually  writing an entry.

Yes, eventually I will explain how it feels like we are living in an academic kibbutz; how Einstein's legacy here at the Institute is very much alive; how the Gothic architecture of the Princeton campus make me feel like an extra in a Harry Potter movie; how I smile at ads for Harris Tweed Jackets in the local paper ("handwoven from Scotland!")....but right now, I am inspired to write about Princeton's underbelly....at least what I call the underbelly.

Holy Mother of all Garage Sales!  Did I find one of the best organized, best selection, best priced garage sale ever, right here in Princeton, New Jersey -- just a few blocks from the Princeton campus.

Every year, Princeton HealthCare (formerly the Auxiliary of the University Medical Center), sponsors a rummage sale on the first level of the hospital's parking garage. This year marked 93rd year of this annual event.  According to the coordinator, who I befriended, they start collecting items donated from the community in April.  Then three days before the event, they sort, label, and price. Volunteers do all the work and all the money goes to the hospital.

We arrived at the appointed start time, and the place was already packed.  Emma and I joined the frenzy of shoppers thumbing our way through old books, CD, clothing, housewares, toys, furniture, art, holiday items, linens, sporting goods, Grandma styled bric-a-brac, electronics, etc.

Truth be told, Emma didn't seem to enjoy the consumer carnival as much as I did. Here she is forcing a smile with my shopping treasures:  a $1 shovel (for the snow!) and a $2 rake.

 

Cruel Cruel Irony

The trees are dying in our front yard in Austin.  A few days before we left, a huge branch fell across the driveway. About this time, the leaves turned brown and dropped on the grass.  The leaves usually don't cover the front yard until the end of the year.  We called the arborist. Yes, It's the drought.  We had been watering with the sprinkler system according to Austin's 2-day a week restricted water schedule, but the arborist told us trees need deep, slow watering that mimics natural rainfall.

The arborist said many homes in Central Austin were losing their trees. He was going to be part of a public information campaign to educate homeowners about the special water needs of trees.

We went into New York City this Labor Day weekend to visit David's parents. On the train back to Princeton, my mom called from Austin to tell us of the devastating fires around Austin.  Yesterday, the fires in Bastrop made the cover of the New York Times. Odd to be so far away from Central Texas, yet see news from home on national media.  Like a refugee from a natural disaster, I have been pouring over every bit of news I can find...searching maps, local news sources, Facebook updates. My heart breaks as I read the news about the loss of homes around Austin.

The cruel irony is that it just won't stop raining here in New Jersey. News reports carry stories of continued flooding due to Tropical Storm Lee. We carry our umbrellas everywhere.  Flip flops are just not cutting it. We need to get some of those goofy looking rain boots. I lie awake at night and study the sound of the rain outside. It is all new: not just rain, but the sound of rain in this apartment.

Yesterday, I let Emma run and jump in all the rain puddles she could find. Splash away, sweet Emma.  Splash and splash and splash and splash. Let the rain water soak through your clothes and run inside your shoes. Feel the squishy feeling of your feet inside your rain soaked tennis shoes. With wild abandon, get your jeans wet and if you can, even your shirt.  And let me join you in this watery mess.

If I could only send some of this water back to Austin.

The End of the Road

We have reached the end of the road. Here is David and Emma standing in front of our apartment door. Except for the few times Emma got sick in the back seat of the car, it was an uneventful trip....very interesting, but uneventful (which is how I like my air travel to be too).

While hurricane Irene was working its way up the coast, we were safely tooling around the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee.  Now here in New Jersey, we see remnants of the hurricane.  I discovered yesterday that Quaker Road, the quickest way from our apartment to the Wal-mart/Target/Best Buy/ shopping district of Princeton is closed due to flooding.  

We are now busy moving in (or as I like to call it, “creating space”). School starts on Thursday for Emma. I need to return my attention back to my work.  And David needs to crank up his pseudorandom generators and randomness extractors and start his work (which means simply thinking on the couch with a note pad and pen).

 

To all of our dear friends in Austin: WE MISS YOU!  Keep the AC on for us. We will be back very soon.

Here is Emma sitting on 22 U-Haul boxes full of 704 pounds of life’s essentials. The apartments at the Institute are furnished, but residents provide the personal stuff that makes a house a home.