raining trees

Trees don't weep in rain
Afterwards a gentle breeze
Sheds their tears away

birthdays

There's nothing special about being born.
Well... That's not quite true, we (humans) are pretty amazing, if only as information processors, neural networks.
But a neural network is really not all that interesting in a vacuum, is it? What does it do? What is it supposed to do? How is it useful?
In the same way, none of us come into this world with a sense of meaning or purpose (at least I didn't). The way I see it, we come into this world as painters with blank canvases. But we color each others' canvases, not our own. Every greeting, every interaction amounts to a sharing of paint on these canvases. Over the years, the empty canvas fills and transforms into a work of art.

For those who have known me, seen me, interacted with me in some way, the 11th day of April marks the day of beginning of this life, one of many that would touch and color their lives.
For me, it was the day I joined this weird drunk-painting class.

Like a violin being lifted into a dissonant, but beautiful harmony, the singular me is granted meaning through the collection of singular others.

I want to take this day to really notice this fact, really appreciate others for their contribution in creating, for lack of better words, this work of art. And, as  art, whether it's good or bad seems irrelevant. Comparing it to "other pieces" becomes meaningless to me, since there are no other works I can truly, fully see in full detail as my own.

So why not take time on your birthday to meditate on your (but not really your) painting? To open up to yourself, and then open up to others by recognizing that you are part of this beautiful collage?



I often say half-jokingly that mothers are essentially the best machine learning experts. Every child birthed is the result of future-state engineering -- hardware, firmware, software, model implementation. On top of that, mothers need to train their children using supervised learning, reinforcement learning, and sometimes unsupervised learning.
I love nature (modulo humans) as much as anybody. But humans are on a different level... in part because I am one. The complexity you can perceive even through the most basic communications channels: words, speaking, actions... it's mindblowing. And that, in my opinion, is what makes appreciating this collective of humans so worthwhile. You'll never run out of richness, depth and beauty to explore. It's the combination of complexity and the ability to comprehend that complexity.