How would I describe the computer as my second intellectual brain?
To start with, a leisure time easy-run, in which we can talk about Nintendo. Without going through the deep analysis of gaming experiences, the significant distinct approaches of the strategy on video game design separate Nintendo from other companies. One typical stance draws upon the on-the-go user experience and Nintendo has made some multiple generations of mobile devices: Gameboy, DS, 3DS and then next year’s release, the Switch. In general, gaming devices are all function-restricted digital computers. Although the choices of software on them are limited — basically just games — either for entertainment, education or other sub-purposes, they are still multimedia computers, as no missing essential components cannot be found in each of them: input devices as joy sticks, buttons, stylus, microphone and camera(s); output as the speakers, screen or the dual screens (3DS and its variations); storage as removable cartridges, built-in memory or SD cards on later models; and of course, the CPU, the centre of computer technology described as the heart or brain of the device.
In regards to being ‘intellectual’, my laptop steps beyond that of video gaming, its purpose is to take part in some of the digital nomad ’s core tasks, either ephemera or repetitive tasks. In addition, as an artist, the digital computer literally assists me on the dialogues concerned with the ego. Here we as ‘individual-ensemble’ by means of encountering the data by collecting, analysing, interpreting, creating, producing, and self-communicating. We engage with the concrete work of art and the problems in regards to functionality.
With a sleeping bag covering my whole body, I lay my tired body across the seats. Travelling at night with a slow train may be less expensive but the time scale is drawn out and long, despite this, it seems strengthen the demands of the actions: being young and staying courageous. A symbol code of declaration is that I am attracted by the idea of travelling and searching for the Elephants Fountain.
A mixture of mechanical and rhythmic sound surrounds the interior of the train, composing a subtle, but pleasant background noise for this night trip crossing France from west to east. Kundera talks about being ‘slow’ in his work La Lenteur and that the human powered transport method such as a bicycle or even a walk on man’s own foot has an indispensable experience against all engine-support vehicles. However, in this moment inside this giant moving metal shell, thanks to the presence of the slowness, the absence of ‘manpower-driven’ energy does not affect the occurring atmosphere of this particular audio-vision scene. I have no hesitation to compare any other personal trips taken by high speed TGVs rolling somewhere else in the country. Without many visible sights through the windows to see at midnight, it feels like the whole railway network forges a remarkable speed stream for this shifting geography. In some aspects, time appears to stop.