Sunday 21 September 2008

Violence Epidemy

It's the second time this week that I come to read and hear that 1 in 3 women are beaten or violated around the world. That's an incredible proportion!! What's it hidden behind this fact? Why so much gender hate? Where are the vestiges of ancient civilizations where women and their feminine attributes were honored because of their capabilities to bring life?

I kept thinking and thinking on this amazing numbers, I could not believe that the range was so vast… I thought that if the number of people suffering this kind of abuses was so large, I should know a lot of cases. So I started thinking on my surroundings. I tried to recall the people I knew from whom I've heard stories of rape and violence (mental and physical violence), and the result was terrifying, 1 of each 4 women I knew had told me about a violent or abusive story.

I was angry at the injustice of this reality and at myself, for not having realized earlier its enormous impact. For thinning that a “group hug” or some words of consolation might mitigate this fact. Angry for not had being conscious of the magnitude.

I suppose this is the first step for change. See it, grave it and change it. My home country as much as other macho-societies needs to bring this to a public and honest dialogue where specially women but also men can share openly this tragic stories and bring light upon this dark of abusive anonymity.

In sharing this stories is where the end of this chain is, because being informed is a step to being conscious. Hearing and sharing the horror of the victims is our contribution to never let their stories repeat again.

Saturday 16 August 2008

De esas Pocas Personas que Admiro

Of all those few people I admire, reads the title.

Con el tiempo he aprendido a perderle el miedo a la opinión publica y a los cyber-copiones, que anteriormente creía, podrían apropiarse de mis escritos y arrebatarme la propiedad intelectual de mis ilusiones y vivencias.

También contribuyó el hecho de que, en un asalto de psicosis, un antiguo conocido se torno en un desconocido desquiciado quien creyó que al eliminar todas mis creaciones virtuales, visuales y semi-literarias, rescataría de alguna intrincada manera un lugar privilegiado en mi corazón, el mismo que desvalido tras la pérdida se refugiaría en el perdón y el amor, hacia quien había demostrado tras tamaña acción, la calidad de su pasión.

Había perdido todo lo que tan cuidadosamente había creado en los últimos 6 años. Creaba para recordarme a mi misma (ya que la memoria nunca me ha sido muy fiel) de mi vida y mi pasado. Toda creación era una metáfora alegórica y bohemia de un hecho verdadero. Así recordaba yo, la situación misma con lujo de detalles y la sensación que esta me había producido. Así me divertía creando al mismo tiempo que le peleaba al olvido, dejando los hechos grabados. Pero el olvido me había a tomado por sorpresa atacando repentinamente por la retaguardia, usando por instrumento la paranoia de un pobre romántico alienado.

Muchos meses después, aun incapaz de recobrar el amor al arte, la sed por el detalle y las ganas de crear (que hasta hoy no recupero en su totalidad), decidí que si alguna vez volvía a crear, debería buscar un lugar más seguro donde guardar mis memorias escritas, pintadas, fotografiadas, ilustradas, filmadas y animadas. Finalmente decidí que el Internet sería un lugar más seguro contra la pérdida y el olvido, aunque esto significase desprenderme de mi total potestad sobre las obras y exponerlas a la critica ajena y hasta al hurto de los que no encuentran sus propios medios para expresarse.

Así empecé, sin mucho entusiasmo ni ganas a publicar lenta y cautelosamente algunos escritos triviales en un blog. Poco a poco, fui venciendo mis prejuicios contra el dominio publico de las creaciones humanas. Me di cuenta que la copia no es mas que la forma mas elevada de halago y que si solo una persona guardaba uno de mis poemas, antes tan celosamente guardados, este estaría más cerca de la inmortalidad y más lejos de la destrucción y del olvido. Entonces cree otro blog y otro más, hasta uno en el que publico sin censura todo lo poco que me quedó en papeles de lo que solía ser mi pasión por la poética.

Y así fue como finalmente empecé a escribir con menos temor a la crítica y más amor a las palabras, sin perfeccionar mis notas, ni dudar por un segundo en nombrar a las personas cuyo arte y cuyas letras admiro, por que al pasar sus links a otros, también bloyo ayudo a inmortalizar estas obras en la memoria de unos cuantos.

Sin embargo, no todas las obras merecen ser inmortalizadas sin antes tomar en cuenta la acción que demanda su esencia. Algunas nos llaman a la acción, y aquí también, la divulgación es prioridad, el arma más potente siempre ha sido la información.

Este es el caso de un blog tan grácil, tan real y tan humano como el de la cubana Yoani Sanchez, quien lucha con puño y letra contra la cobarde veda de información y comunicación que sufre Cuba. Yoani sufre esta discriminación en carne propia, ella no publica directamente sus artículos sino a través de amigos en el exterior, ya que su blog se encuentra vedado en Cuba.

Ella cuenta simples pautas sobre la vida diaria en Cuba, y así sutil pero tenazmente le quita la máscara a la realidad de su país.

http://www.desdecuba.com/generaciony/


Siempre he creído el narrar es vivir. Que la verdadera muerte no es la muerte del cuerpo, sino el olvido, y que si no contamos nuestra historia de grandezas y faltas, corremos el riesgo de que se vuelvan a cometer infamias, y de que el espiral de la vida se convierta en un circulo, del que nunca salimos y que nunca se acaba.

Así pues, aquí esta ella para contarnos los suplicios de la gente común, en un país donde un solo hombre piensa poder controlarlo todo, y que con la intención primera de traer bienestar a muchos, termina por descalabrar la vida de todos. Estas son el tipo de verdades que todos debemos conocer, para concientemente evitar (a toda costa) que alguna vez se repitan.

Friday 1 August 2008

Some Thoughts on Stalking

It's crazy to think that one in 5 women are victims of stalking. It's like saying one in 3 people are obese in America (except that the last ones -in my opinion, have infringed this upon themselves).

From all the different types of stalkers, one particular type caught my attention: t
he Paranoid Stalker. It's said that this one is by far the most dangerous one, because he lives in an inaccessible world of his own invention. He can not be reasoned with and usually thrives on threats, anxiety, and fear, and basically, you cannot communicate with a him (a paranoid) because he is likely to distort everything you say to support his persecutory delusions, sense of entitlement, and grandiose fantasies.

This kind of stalking derives from a former relationship. So most stalkers are ex-partners who developed an obsession during the relationship or shortly after the break up.

A great number of this offenses are never reported to the police when they first occur, since the fresh broken ties of the relationship prevent many women to accuse their ex-former lover, thinking they could appeal to his feelings, but ignoring that you cannot appeal to his emotions he has none, at least not positive ones.

Stalking is a terribly annoying situation to deal with, and certainly the word "victim" puts the offended in a helpless position. However, stalking is a severe crime in most countries, and I can definitely imagine why. It makes no sense that some individual shows up with obsessive tendencies and propensity to paranoid thoughts, and as a wondering decease, watching his environs for the first
unwary person, who will have to pay for the encounter with years of harassment, aggression and vengeance, all for a delusional not-corresponded love illusion.

The paradox is that the abusive and paranoid ex-partner blames it all on his stalking victim. As far as he is concerned, she recklessly and unscrupulously wrecked a wonderful thing they both had going.

I still have to think of a conclusion, the matter is that this fact is something to keep in mind. Not everything can be terrible if the stalker accepts that his behavior is unacceptable. It doesn't happen often, but while many stalkers view their actions within a delusional framework and therefore see no need to get help, a few do actually do approach professionals. I feel these individuals have well ingrained values and through the veil of obsession, recognize that angry and vengeance thoughts affect terribly oneself first and then the others. But these people are the minority of stalkers, those who actually have a sense for beauty, who appreciate (and are grateful for) their lives, who have some respect for themselves, the others, and take responsibility for their lives and their actions.

Unfortunately, the rest of stalkers need others to interfeer and take action, since they on their own, are not able to live and let people live in peace and joy.

Tuesday 22 July 2008

India's Gulabai Gang

In this place where woman have no rights to education and are married to have children before they reach puberty, living with no voice and being victims of abuse, this gang brings hope, support to individual cases and a very touching/inspiring story. Women together for their rights and a better future.


Tuesday 15 July 2008

Monday 7 July 2008

For those who search dispearely for the activity of others to interfer and difame

Something interesting to digest, which might increase your emotional intelligence:

"The great source of both the misery and disorders of human life, seems to arise from over-rating the difference between one permanent situation and another... some of these situations may, no doubt, deserve to be preferred to others, but none of them can deserve to be pursued with that passionate ardour which drives us to violate the rules either of prudence or of justice, or to corrupt the future tranquility of our minds, either by shame from the remembrance of our own folly, or by remorse from the horror of our own injustice."

Adam Smith
"Turgid Truth"
Theory of Moral Sentiments, 1759

Monday 30 June 2008

Reboot10


Reboot10, originally uploaded by Charles Nouÿrit.

Yes, I did go to Copenhagen and I did presence many of the lectures at Reboot10 in a conscious state. I found pictures to prove it and I'm glad (since I know I was spotted sleeping during one of the lectures, and the photo will be blogged soon). This photo here, will serve me to prove I was awake in most of them :D

Thursday 22 May 2008

Cholo, una definicion en poema

de Luis Abanto Morales

Cholo soy
¡y no me compadezcas!
que esas son monedas que no valen nada
y que dan los blancos como quien diera plata.

Nosotros los cholos, no pedimos nada
pues faltando todo, todo nos alcanza.

Déjame en la puna, vivir a mis anchas
trepar por los cerros, detrás de mis cabras
arando la tierra, tejiendo unos ponchos
pastando mis llamas;
y echar a los vientos, la voz de mi quena.

Dices que soy triste, que quieres que haga
no dicen ustedes que el cholo sin alma
y que es como piedra, sin voz sin palabra
y llora por dentro, sin mostrar las lágrimas.

Acaso no fueron los blancos, venidos de España
que nos dieron muerte por oro y por plata
¿no hubo un tal Pizarro, que mato a Atahualpa
tras muchas promesas bonitas y falsas?

¿Entonces, que quieres, que quieres que haga?
que me ponga alegre como día de fiesta,
mientras mis hermanos doblan las espaldas,
por cuatro centavos que el patrón les paga.

¿Quieres que me ría?
mientras mis hermanos son bestias de carga
llevando riquezas que otros se guardan
¿Quieres que la risa me ensanche la cara?
mientras mis hermanos viven en las montañas,
como topos escarba y escarba,
mientras se enriquecen los que no trabajan.

¿quieres que me alegre?
mientras mis hermanas van a casas de ricos
los mismo que esclavas
cholo soy ¡y no me compadezcas!

Déjame en la puna, vivir a mis anchas
trepar por los cerros, detrás de mis cabras
arando la tierra, tejiendo unos ponchos
pastando mis llamas;
y echar a los vientos, la voz de mi quena.

Déjame tranquilo, que aquí la montaña
me ofrece sus piedras, acaso mas blandas
que esas condolencias que tu me regalas
Cholo soy ¡y no me compadezcas!

http://flickr.com/photos/66468173@N00/2468899527/in/photostream/

Friday 25 April 2008

Micro-Interactions and Fuzzy Agencies

This is an interesting speech at Interaction '08 with examples about moving brands beyond typical marketing campaigns into a "micro-interaction" model; and about a company model in which the distinct positions blur into each other to reveal the real potential in that overlap of functions.

Friday 18 April 2008

Some escencial things new companies that come from old failures should mind

I found this posted at 37 signals and it reminded me of some funny incidents that happened at the office I'm working at (not "for"), related to eating earlier than 12:30 (which was the established rule) and getting a bottle of wine taken away from Kim's hand (while she was looking for beer) with the remark that "you can only drink on Fridays"...

The post was about Maverick: The Success Behind the World’s Most Unusual Workplace,

Treat employees like adults:

We simply do not believe our employees have an interest in coming in late, leaving early, and doing as little as possible for as much money as their union can wheedle out of us. After all, these are the same people that raise children, join the PTA, elect mayors, governors, senators, and presidents. They are adults. At Semco, we treat them like adults. We trust them. We don’t make our employees ask permission to go to the bathroom, nor have security guards search them as they leave for the day. We get out of their way and let them do their jobs.

Surprisingly, someone has to write about it! so that some individuals with management-delusional* behaviors realize the rest are adult people too, not children.

* In Ecuador we used to call these people "the clowns who perceive themselves as the owners of the circus"

Looking for the similarities rather than the differences on the description of my job title

By chance I ran into a description of my job title, and while reading it I thought it was as vague as I had intended it to be when I gave myself the nomination. I didn't want to be called an Information Architect, because I'm not only that. I'm also not a Concept Developer only, neither am I a Interaction Design solely. Experience Architect was the best name I could find to not describe me as anything specific, so that I could do all the things I want and like under the umbrella of a name no one really understands.

Here are some of the descriptions I found:

The Experience Architect
is that person relentlessly focused on creating remarkable individual experiences. This person facilitates positive encounters with your organization through products, services, digital interactions, spaces, or events. Whether an architect or a sushi chef, the Experience Architect maps out how to turn something ordinary into something distinctive—even delightful—every chance they get.

Later, more clarification:
1. Interaction Designers are User Experience Architects. They are the primary role responsible for writing scenarios.

2. Business Analyst is also responsible for writing scenarios but less from a perspective of design and more from a perspective of goal writing (where the scenarios come from) and ensuring the scenarios meet the goals of the customer. It's entirely possible for a Business Analyst to not write a single word within a scenario but they should know it well.

3. Business Analysts are the knowledge people. They understand the priorities, the functionality, the domain and provide a bridge between the user experience and technical design.

4. Business Analysts are the primary role to write functional requirements. They could write them side by side with a solution architect or with strong collaboration but they are ultimatly responsible for functional requirements.

5. For domain modeling. I imagine a BA and SA sitting side by side building it together. Both should understand the technique.

(little note: still, me, as an experience architect play all these rolls, we just charge differently per the knowledge of each role)

... tired of researching, I'll conclude this post later

Saturday 1 March 2008

Tuesday 29 January 2008

Wednesday 16 January 2008

Why don't we just stop and help each other?

Sometimes I walk passing central station, both in Amsterdam and Rotterdam, and I can't help noticing how everyone walks in their own imaginary bubble, avoiding all reality around them.

Some are too late to get to somewhere, so they rush through places having no time to notice their environment, some others are too busy, they have their phones on and the whole world around them is switched off, some are just too scared to notice, so they walk quickly, with a concern face on them, always looking at the ground, and a lot of them just don't care, so they walk with their headphones on avoiding eye contact and any other human distraction.

I stop and the whole movie seems to roll around me. I see people who have to go to the airport and struggle incredibly to get their big bags up the stairs while the rest pass by them pushing them, going over, avoiding them, skipping their bags for a centimeter, getting inpatient, moving their heads in disapproval, but no one helping. I see the starving man who looks with his watery sad eyes inside the garbage can, and the guy who comes and throws half of his hamburger in the trash bin, rather than giving it to the man in his hands... I'm afraid he didn't even noticed the man. I see the musicians endlessly playing their melodies in the harsh winter while everyone walks by trying not to see or listening to their own tunes. I wonder if they ever thought about the man standing always in that sharp cold.

And then I wonder, why can't we just give a hand to someone else, given that all humans have such an amazing capacity for compassion. How can we see the faces of pain, hunger, anger and fear scattered through that world of strangers around us, and fail to notice it? We are all prepared to help, why don't we then?

Why do we rather absolve into ourselves to not notice others? Have everyone forgotten the strange complacency that one feels when helping others? We are indeed naturally altruistic and prepared to enjoy altruistic actions. Is that we have lost our compassion or is that we are just so overwhelmed with everything else that we can't pay attention to life and to the world anymore? I wonder if we will ever start noticing, if we will ever stop focusing on ourselves and start seeing others, if we will ever again pay full attention to the world, if we will ever gain back our emotional empathy and take the opportunity to help others... if we will ever just have time for it.

Tuesday 8 January 2008

Life and Dead

Por primera vez experimento en carne propia la alegre y casi satirica capricho de dios y el mundo, siempre engendrando y siempre matando. Un buen amigo muere y con el parte de mi corazon, pero sin darme aun el tiempo para el luto, dos gemelos entran en el mundo chillando y alegrando la vida de mis amigos y regalandome un pedazo nuevo de corazon.

Interminable el encuentro del universo con todos sus atomos e indescriptible la resistencia del corazon que pareciendo fragil siempre se vale del tiempo y de contradicciones para seguir viviendo