I was standing at the bar listening to the ‘Imaginary Place‘ remix of The Slow Rush with headphones on when I felt someone bump me while trying to get past and spill some of their drink on me. We both turned to each other and nodded, then kept on listening.

The album and this remix are great examples of music and the ability to take you to another world.

Bridget Judd discusses the way in which the coronavirus infects our fears before possibly infecting our bodies. Personally speaking I feel that the virus has definitely invaded my mental space. This has become apparent moreΒ  and more with my dreams. Feeling all Jungian.

Dreams are impartial, spontaneous products of the unconscious psyche, outside the control of the will. They are pure nature; they show us the unvarnished, natural truth, and are therefore fitted, as nothing else is, to give us back an attitude that accords with our basic human nature when our consciousness has strayed too far from its foundations and run into an impasse.

Received an email today stating that there would be some disruption in the office due to some upgrades occuring. As I am working at home this will not be a problem. However, it highlights something that it feels as if there are some aspects of society that see such crises as an opportunity. I guess it comes down to perspective. What is a little disruption in a time of transformation, something epitomised with the repainting of the famous Abbey Road crossing.
In an episode of the Take 5 Podcast, David Byrne spoke about how he and St. Vincent had to decide at some point what sort of music they would write together based on where the music would be performed. This builds on Byrne’s discussion of space and music in his TED Talk:

This idea has been praying on my mind as artists are forced to rethink where they perform. Many artists are turning to live steaming from home. For many this has led to a focus on covers. As the current crisis continues to unfold I wonder what impact that the means of performance will have on the music created.

The coronavirus has brought about a change where I have worked at home this week. What has been interesting is that although the physical space is different, what has stood out has been the implied responsibility and autonomy. I have missed speaking w/ colleagues whenever required, however it has made me more mindful of how I communicate.
The quote making the rounds at the moment is: “There are decades when nothing happens; and there are weeks when decades happen.” This last month feels like a time when everything has changed. Six months ago my family and I were contemplating traveling by air for a holiday, now we are holed up in our homes wondering if such travel will ever be the same again? I’m sure we will, but I am also sure it will be different.
I remember hearing Jack Antonoff talking about writing ‘Let’s Get Married’ as a response to Trump being elected president. It was a song about trying to make sense of other people’s choices and decisions.

The current crisis is a different event to make sense of. Whereas a political decision or a bushfire disaster can have its culprits, a pandemic is not so clear. In this week’s NPR New Music podcast, Robin Hilton, Ann Powers and Stephen Thompson talk about finding world’s to immerse yourself in and escape into as a means of response.

Our office is yet to shut, I’m therefore still travelling into the city each day. Although this path is well trodden for me, the pandemic has given me a new perspective on the various spaces. I have never been so aware of the surfaces I touch. Train door. Hand rails. Lift buttons.

I remember reading about how the coronavirus hits us twice. Firstly from a cultural point of view and then as an actual virus. I find myself exhausted at the end of each day from being so attentive all day long.

There is currently a hole in the street out the front of the office I work in. This opening provides an insight into the space beneath the asphalt often unseen.Β  A mixture of roots stretching outΒ  cables the intertwined with cables and pipes connecting our lives. Although we may bank on the trees that break up the space and the connectivity to work, I wonder about the many assumptions a part of this.
Listened Place Based Education with Tom Vander Ark – Modern Learners from Modern Learners

I’m excited to kick off our next Modern Learners Community theme β€œPlaces and Spaces” with today’s interview with Tom Vander Ark. Tom is the CEO of Getting Smart and his brand new book Place Based Learning: Authentic Learning through Place-Based Education has just been released. He co-authored the book with Emily Liebag and Nate McClennen.

In the book, Vander Ark defines place-based learning as anytime, anywhere learning that leverages the power of place to personalize learning. Later the authors add the idea of connecting projects to community, delving into authentic problems, and encouraging public products which ultimately develop an ethic of contribution.

Tom Vander Ark’s reflection on space and context reminded me of an experience where I attended a network meeting at a school with a working vineyard. The lesson that came out of this day was not that every school should get their own vineyard, but that every school should look for such opportunities based on their own context.
I have been really enjoying Tame Impala’s new album. I have always appreciated Kevin Parker’s work, but it has never really stuck as I have always been in a different place in regards to my music. However, The Slow Rush meets me where I am right now with an interest in music with thick sounds and intricate hooks. This now has me diving back and re-listening to the back catalogue in a different space.
I started reading Paul Browning’s book Principled, a book that:

Tells the story of trust destroyed and regained and as it does, aims to impart practical advice that can be adopted by any leader wishing to become a more trustworthy leader.

I am left wonder what part space places with this? Although this book is about various strategies, I am left wondering whether some spaces are more conducive towards ‘trust’ than others? This is particularly pertinent as I recently moved desks. Whether it be location, mood, light, I wonder if there is something different with where I now sit and work.

When I was young, I spent a lot of time in a truck. My step-father used to delivery for PFD. Staring out from the bunk, the world seemed flat. I was therefore shocked when a few years ago I retraced those early steps to find an undulating terrain.

I wonder if in part this was a product of growing up in the outer east of Melbourne? A place named after is volcanic red earth. Living in an area filled with hills and valleys maybe made me take such space for granted?