on the cover: Cybele Collins www.bluewirecut.com

Okay, not really. In fact, we just made that part up. But enough about all of that
We are expanding OLOGY to bring you even more content. Like what you ask?

This issue introduces a new segment called ADVANCEMENT.
This is a spot for experiments in creative storytelling. We kick this feature off with a strange and haunting work from Kevin Lottes called, “Voicebox”.

There have also been requests to increase the amount of artist features, which we’ve done in this issue. Be sure to check out ARTISCOPIC for the latest in emerging artistic ass-whoopery.

All further ado aside, let’s learn a little about this issue’s cover artist, Cybele Collins.
Cybele works as an illustrator and artists' model in Providence, Rhode Island.
She also plays shred violin in the band, Blue Shift. In her own words:

“The thing I never want to forget about drawing is to start over each time. That way, I have to bring forth all that I can. I want the drawings to show a gasp of breath, to show something immediate, to make them with ferocity and urgency that shows, but also with a sense of indefinite time, patience and waiting. Like other forms of love, I want them to contain contradictions and a spectrum of energy.”

You will be able to see more of Cybele’s work here: www.bluewirecut.com

When Is A Million Dollars Not Like A Doughnut?

by Craig Huhn

Go into any super-chain bookstore, and among the miles and miles of bookshelves spread out over two floors across a city block you can find a bookshelf a couple feet long filled with books about mathematics. These are not textbooks, or study materials, or any of the retch-inducing images most of us have when we hear “math books.” These are rich, interesting commentaries about the questions that underlie our existence; books that evoke mysticism and beauty and hyper-realities. It is here where any one of you can spend an hour and get a sense of the true nature of mathematics- not the mundane and archaic sense derived from schooling.

One of the book s you may find there is one I picked up a couple years ago by Keith Devlin that described (in general terms) the seven Millennium Problems. It is in this reading where I first became introduced to the Poincaré conjecture, and no doubt where almost all of what my brain spews forthcoming has its genesis.

First, a quick history: In 1900, David Hilbert at a mathematics conference gave a speech that outlined a series of unsolved problems that should guide mathematics into the new century. [OK, it was 23 problems, and it was at the second International Congress of Mathematicians in Paris.] Anyway, all but one of them were solved by 2000, and as the new millennium approached, it was time to again set the tone for future discovery. The Clay Mathematics Institute collected internationally acclaimed experts across several fields of mathematics- we’re talking the big boys and girls- who selected seven problems that were the most significant unsolved problems in mathematics. They would announce that a one million dollar prize would reward a solution to each of the problems.

And it was here that the story stood until this summer. The International Conference of Mathematicians was held in Spain in August of 2006, a conference held every four years in a major world city (think brain Olympics). Here speeches on the edge of known mathematics are held, and the Fields medals are given out (think Nobel prize). One of these medals was awarded to Grigori Perelman for his work in the field of topology. The jury is still out, but after three years of intense study, it appears he may have solved one of the Millennium Problems: the Poincaré conjecture.

Topology is a type of geometry where things like distance and straightness are meaningless, because you are allowed to distort the surface you are working on. In high school geometry, most of the work is on a two-dimensional plane, on which you study properties of the things found there (circles, triangles, parallel lines, etc). As an important clarification, the line or boundary of the circle is one-dimensional (think of a point traveling along a length but has no width or height to move in)…the space enclosed (what most people refer to when they say ‘the circle’) is two-dimensional. Much like in the three-dimensional space we are aware of, the surface of a sphere is two-dimensional, but the space enclosed is three-dimensional. The Poincaré conjecture is one more level up: think of a surface that is actually three-dimensional [OK, I know you can’t really imagine it]… if there is space enclosed by this surface (like a super-globe), it would be four-dimensional. Even though we can’t describe this universe with visual or mental imagery, we can describe it algebraically. In fact, the mathematics can take us up to dimensions as highly-numbered as we want.

Now settle down. It’s not as arbitrary as you think. Right now, the leading philosophies on the universe and cosmology is that we likely live in a universe that has eleven dimensions (although at different times I have read different numbers still). We can only spatially recognize three of them; but dark matter, electromagnetism, quantum mechanics, and the like seem to be indications of others. The Holy Grail of physics and mathematics is to find the one Universal Theory that describes all phenomena in the universe. Pretty much what Einstein did for the known things of his time, but with quarks and stuff, too. But I digress.

Long story short, in the geometry of topology, it is legal to stretch and twist and maneuver the surface you work on. I have often heard it (in two dimensions) referred to as “rubber-sheet geometry.” Hence, angles, length, area, and volume are useless to examine, since you can deform whatever shape you are looking at. But some characteristics make sense to look at in topology, like loops. Draw a closed loop on a two-dimensional surface, and no matter how you stretch, shrink, twist or deform the surface, you still have a closed loop. So with such freedom to deform the surface you are working on, the classic image that people use to describe topology is the coffee cup and the doughnut. These objects are essentially equivalent, since without tearing or cutting, you can still take a doughnut-shaped ball of clay and form it into a coffee cup [much easier to do in your imagination than in reality] by smooshing a bunch of the clay around to one lump on the ring, and using that extra to form the cup and the leftover ring to form the handle. But, a baseball is topologically different than the doughnut, since you can’t take the surface of a ball and make it into a doughnut without tearing it. This can been seen by thinking about a loop drawn on a sphere- every loop you draw can be shrunk down to a point as it slides across the surface. This is not the case with a doughnut- a loop can be drawn around it that can’t be shrunk down to a point. So, in two-dimensional surfaces, loopiness is a way to see if there are things that are topologically different than a sphere. Now, bump this up to a three-dimensional surface in four-space, and in essence, you have the Poincaré conjecture: that loopiness could still work as a way to classify 3-D surfaces [actually, we use the word “manifold” since surface has a 2-D feel to it] as equivalent to the 3-D version of a ‘sphere.’

People have been able to prove that loopiness works as a classifying characteristic in all dimensions of manifolds from 4-D on up; so just the case of the 3-D manifold was left in 2000. Several years ago now, Perelman gave some talks where it appears he had proved a larger theorem that would have the Poincaré conjecture proven as a special case. A few other people filled in some details to make it rigorous, and the mathematical community [of those that can follow the hundreds of pages] seems to agree that there aren’t any major flaws.

But, they still have not announced this as official proof yet, and the Clay Institute has not yet come forward asking Perelman to claim his prize (contrary to the press buzz this month). Dr. Perelman did not go to Madrid to claim the Fields Medal prize, however, and it is widely reported that he has no interest in the million-dollar prize if [OK, really when] it is offered to him. Damn, some mathematicians are weird.

By the way, the one problem from Hilbert’s 1900 list that wasn’t solved is also one of the seven Millennium Problems. My money puts that next on the list of having a solution presented. My well-placed sources are hearing some chatter….so start studying prime numbers now so the article about the Riemann Hypothesis is much easier to write.

Mathematically yours,

CH

by Rebecca Brock (www.horrorhack.com)

You Write What?

Have you ever had anyone say that to you?

Here’s how the conversation usually tends to go:
“So...you’re a writer?”
“Well, yeah...trying to be, I guess.”
“What do you write?”

“Romances.” (or horror, or westerns, or sci-fi...substitute any genre here)
“You write what? Why do you waste your time writing that crap?

Why don’t you write something real?

By that point, my head’s usually exploding in a manner reminiscent of that scene in “Scanners” and I’ve bitten my tongue neatly in half. I’ve given up trying to explain why I write what I write.

And I’ve gotten quite touchy about the whole issue of genre prejudice over the years. I’ve liked to write horror stories since I was a kid. In third grade, I was writing sequels to “Halloween” and killing off the kids in my class (oh, calm down; the kids loved it and I haven’t gone totally psycho yet). I’d happily sit down and crank out the grossest, goriest, most disgusting stories I could imagine because that’s what I liked to read and that was the most fun for me to write and for others in my class to read, because they liked the bloody stuff as much as me.

So imagine my surprise when I got to high school and an English teacher sniffed at me that I should be writing something real, not this low-brow horror nonsense. I thought my stories were real enough, and since other people seemed to like to read them, they were serving their purpose by being entertaining. What else was there?

That was my first brush with the snootiness of the high-brow reader. It only got worse from there.

College was absolutely infested with English majors who just could not bring themselves to read a...choke...Stephen King novel. Writers like him (and Danielle Steel, and Mary Higgins Clark, and John Grisham, and virtually everyone on the best-sellers lists) were dumbing down America and making everyone illiterate and writing to the lowest-common denominator, blah blah bliddy blah.
I tended to argue a lot in college.

I’ve yet to figure out why some writers think that genre writing is so below them. I’ve heard so many people make fun of romance novels who’ve never even bothered to read one, forming their whole opinion from one cheesy, Fabio-covered paperback. Sure, there’s crap out there in the romance field, but that’s true of every genre. Back in my college days, I had to read some titles in Modern Lit that, in my admittedly biased opinion, stunk on ice. My professor peed his pants over their brilliance and genius, while in the meantime, reading each line felt like I was dragging my eyes over broken glass. He loved those books. I didn’t. Opinions are wonderful things.

I’ve always been particularly perturbed at people who think that they can toss off a genre novel in, oh, a weekend. Anyone can write those things, they believe. They’ll just lower themselves to knock off a quickie romance or horror novel and then, while it’s shooting up the charts, they can write the serious novel that they really want to write.

I usually have to fight the urge to laugh and/or scream when I hear that.
Everyone reading this column already knows this, but I’ll say it again: writing is hard. Short stories, poems, whatever. It’s work. And writing a novel—a full-fledged novel with tens of thousands of words and hundreds of pages—is a difficult thing for any writer, regardless of the subject matter. Writing something like a romance novel—and yes, I’m talking about the heaving bosom, ripped bodice kinds of romance novels too—is just as hard as writing the next Pride and Prejudice. There isn’t a secret hack handbook for people who write genre fiction that has all the formulas and plotlines. Those authors spend every bit as much time and effort and energy and care in crafting a good story as the artiste who agonizes over every word and spends years debating the wisdom of using a period or a semicolon.

What’s my point in all this ranting and raving? Simply this: write what you want to write, not what you think other people think you should write. If you want to write that sensitive coming-of-age novel, then write it. If you’d rather write about cannibal mutants rampaging through post-apocalyptic Kansas, then write that instead.

Don’t be ashamed of your ability to create an affecting love story, or your talents for describing the dumping ground of a serial killer, or your skill at crafting a futuristic world where all red-headed people are put to death at the age of twenty-two and three-quarters.

Write what you want to write, what you need to write.

And please...never feel embarrassed to tell people what you write. Be proud of your work, even if it never sees the light of publication. Be proud of your dedication and effort, even if your old high school English teacher would have shriveled up with mortification at your pulp plotlines or salty dialogue. Aspire to write the kind of book Oprah would love, or the kind of book that would freak Stephen King right the hell out. It’s your call.

Basically, you just need to respect your writing and respect your genre. Will everyone like what you write? No, of course not. But if you’re lucky, you’ll find a few who do. Don’t let anyone make you feel like what you’re writing isn’t good enough. It is.

And if they don’t like it, then they don’t have to read it. Simple as that.

Look for more from Rebecca in future issues. You can contact her at pbwriter_at_hotmail.com.

This installment of Artiscopic focuses on Lara Flinn-Summers, a lifelong artist and member of the prestigious, international art group BREED. Known to some as Raemie, we had a chance to drop 5 questions on her. Take a look.

What's it all about, your work, the Why, the What?
This is one of those hard questions, like what is the meaning of life? or why are we here?, is this all real or just a dream? I can answer the why, it is because I don't have much of a choice in the matter. I have to have something to do with my hands. They are demanding task masters and not happy unless they have a book, brush, or pen in them. I draw and paint , it is just what I do and what I have always done.

I often have nightmares of loosing use of my hands at which point I am sure I could train my feet to be more useful. I don't know what I would I would do with my self if I was not drawing or painting. I don't think it is possible to read more than I already do. I would most likely develop a bad television or shopping habit. I might even clean the house more often.

Has art-making always been a part of who you are, what you do?
I started drawing before I learned how to write. Unfortunately my writing has never quite caught up. At least I live in the age of spell check. My mom had a younger brother, who used to spend summers at our house. He was a gifted artist who also had the patience to sit around and draw with a three year old. He was an uncle I adored so I would do anything to spend time with him. I can remember one time showing him some roses I had drawn. He told me that was how he had drawn them when he was my age.

I took that as a huge complement and proof that if I practiced hard enough I could be just as good as he was one day. I think that is when I started thinking of drawing a something I was good at, and taking it more seriously. I was probably around the age of 6 or 7. I can’t remember a time when I did not have a portfolio of some sort. Some of the earliest centered around drawings of flower pots, rainbows and my mom's candlesticks. These master pieces where generally executed in poster paint and number two pencil on binder paper.

What is your opinion of emerging technological art-making techniques (digital, etc.)?
I not a very advanced computer user. My knowledge of pertinent technologies is limited to those designed for still single image work. What can be done with Painter and a Wacom tablet astounds me. I have no real grasp of what some of the more advanced programs like Flash or Maya can do. I could not even build my own website if I needed to. I just can’t seem really get going when I work digitally. I have a Wacom tablet which does help. I just can’t get myself to stay in front of the computer long enough to do much with it. I like sitting some place cozy with my work on my lap. This is the same reason my studio ends up being more of a glorified storage space. I have a laptop on my perpetual wish list, I think I would do more with my tablet if I was not confined to one room with it. I also am without Photoshop and Illustrator which I find to be really familiar, comfortable programs to work with. I don't have the patience to work with the programs that came with this my third hand-me-down computer

It is interesting that our understanding of what constitutes a work of art changes from being an tactile thing, such as a painting of drawing that you can hold on to an image that is exists only as long as you have it on the screen or get a print. It abolishes the concept of the original much in the way traditional printing methods must have done, but now we have done away with the plate as well. I always used to hear people talk about a paperless society and I never realty thought about that in relation to art. It is a great equalizer for the artist , it sets everyone up with much the same materials. That is of course, after you shell out the staring cost of hardware and software and assorted peripherals. It no longer maters what kind of paints or papers you use, if you have the 500 plus dollar box of Senelier pastels or Craypas.

Then there is of course the exposure to art and individual artists one gets because of technology. I can look up most artists on the internet and view their work in my home any time day or night . I don't have to order art books and exhibition catalogues, or wait for the galleries in my mid sized town to show a particular artist. I am capable of interaction with other artists through the internet which is a life saver for me , I have a lot trouble staying motivated without peers. It just not as exciting to make work if only I get to scrutinize it. You start to lose objectivity when it just you in a room with a set of paints.

When your time on Earth is up and you've sloughed off this mortal coil, are you cool with someone drinking from your skull?
I always thought that cremation was the way to go. None of that rotting and bloating up with gases, just straight to dust. Now come to think of it I wonder if they can save my skull, I would disappointed if no one drank from it. They would have to save it for the good stuff though, no Bud or Michelob. My skull could be kept with the good wine glasses that are only brought out for company. How would one actually drink from a skull though? When you think about it sounds like a messy proposition. How exactly would that work? I would think you would just sip from the back lower bit cross from the jaw, but then you would probably end up with teeth hitting you forehead. I knew there was something more I could have learned from the skeletons in the anatomy drawing class, and now I have missed my chance.(Editor's Note: We would recommend using a straw).

Ology refers to "the study of". What is your Ology?
The obvious would be painting . I study more art history and technique books then I did when I was actually getting credit for them, but more than anything I study people and how they present themselves. Your mode of dress and the way you carry yourself says a lot about how you want to be viewed by the world. It is your visual interface with the rest of society. It really fascinates me, there is a lot about people I just don't understand. I keep expecting my mom to not only tell me that the milk man was my real dad, but that he was Martian as well. Actually it would have to be an ancestor a bit farther back on the family tree. My family I defiantly understand, because we are all a bit off center, that is why we get along so well.

You can see more of Lara's work at: Wall Art Gallery and on BREED

 

God's Acre Book One: The Ravens & The Rhyme is now available and shipping.

Please visit www.omnibucket.com/godsacre for details

 

Voicebox by Kevin Lottes

Hello?

Hello?

Where am I?
Is anyone there?
Anybody got a flashlight?
I can’t see my hand in front of my face.

I don’t think a flashlight would even do the job.
It’s not really dark.
It’s just…
Blank?
Am I inside, or outside?
I can’t tell.

This is a bit hard to describe.

Where’s my dog?
Has anyone seen my dog?
I can’t hear him barking anymore.
He’s always barking at something…

Where’s my –
– My –
– My –
Oh, Shit!
What happened to my body?!

My arms are gone.
I can’t feel my arms!
My hands are gone.
I can’t feel my hands!
My stomach is gone.
I can’t feel my belly!
My legs are gone.
I can’t feel my legs!

I can’t walk.
I can’t run.
I’m not even standing up, am I?
Or sitting down
for that matter.

Am I a man?
Am I a woman?
I can’t remember.
Who am I?
Who was I?
Was I a Man?
Was I a Woman?
Am I an Animal?
Am I
Sexless?
What!

 

.(To be continued in a later issue...).

 

What the Hell are you lookin' at?

The Clown takes a vacation.

 

 

 

.

 

Hey, take a minute and tell us what you think.

Want to write something for OLOGY? Love it or Hate it? Let us know and we'll give you something for free.

(No, it's not pneumonia...it's something better.)