Another Sunday, Another Naive Weekly — Observations From The Internet Wilderness.
Good morning. This morning, like every morning since we moved to our new home, I started the day by peeking out of the window. We are lucky to have a lake in front of our home. So every day starts and ends the same way; with us checking if the lake is still there.
Usually lakes don’t disappear overnight, but you never know. Back in the 60s (which seems far away, but is closer to my birth than 2021) the lake in front of our home was about to become a highway. I find this hard to imagine as I am gazing at the water from behind the curtain.
Fortunately the lake was still there this morning. So also this morning I could reassure Ana that we are lucky to have a lake in front of our home.
Ana Vogrin has strawberries in her veins. It runs in the family. Ana is also a ballerina and dance teacher. You find her in books and conversations, and if you ever need a mountain guide, she is the best you can get.
K: How do you archive your thoughts?
Ana: When I find my thoughts to be really brilliant, they don’t leave my head, they keep occupying my thoughts, I polish them, imagine different scenarios, overthink things, debate with myself, until I no longer find them as brilliant. And then I somehow forget about them completely.
K: How would you like to be remembered online?
Ana: I can’t imagine a scenario in which I would be remembered online. I don’t consider myself as someone whose presence online is of any importance. I quite like it that way, to be honest. I hope my students don’t forget things we talk about. But I don’t mind being forgotten online.
K: How would you describe your work to my grandparents?
Ana: My work is pretty straightforward. I’m a ballet teacher, I teach kids steps, discipline and the art of ballet. My area of work hasn’t changed much in the last 100-150 years. It is, though, pretty different now with corona regulations. I have to explain steps and keep the morale up while working from home, with all of us doing battement tendus in our rooms.
Working with strawberries is pretty self explanatory, too. My dad started growing and selling them when I was three. I helped there since I can remember and I enjoy it more and more. Food processing even more than growing fruits themselves. Finding different flavours that work together; oh, that’s the thoughts I write down! I keep notes on my phone and a notebook with ideas for different flavours that would work well with strawberries.
K: What stones do you carry in your bag?
Ana: I don’t carry any stones. Although I carry a shit ton of heavy unnecessary things around. I used to collect stones when I was a kid. Not because I found them especially magical, I just saw my friend's father collecting them so I thought “that’s an interesting hobby, let me try”. It didn’t last long and I didn’t know what to go for. I like watching stones. I find them fascinating. I like throwing them in lakes. Or the sea. I remember one lady I hiked with, she was collecting rocks while hiking. Imagine the weight of that backpack.
K: What is progress to you?
Ana: That’s a hard one, especially in these times where everything besides time itself seems to more or less stand still. Or is somehow expected to stand still in a manner of “we’ll deal with that later”. To me progress is something that I look back on with pride — it may be something on a personal level or something much bigger. It’s all the little wins in our everyday that we’re not even aware of or don’t give ourselves or the world around us credit for.
K: Where do you escape to when your internet is crashing?
Ana: To books, for a walk, to cooking, to friends. But I find it stressful knowing something isn’t working when I want it to. Or when I expect it to work. I’d rather escape from the internet by my own rules, in my own time. I don’t mind being without the internet when I can mentally prepare for it — when traveling for example. I know I’m going through the day without the option of reaching for my phone for answers, for messages, scroll through, to me, meaningless information, all of that. And I don’t miss it, it feels refreshing even. But the idea of being at home, watching a movie and the internet crashing — I would refresh the page a million times.
Wonderful reflection on how it feels to be online in 2021. We’ve long ago left the explorative state of the social web, a state characterised by using the internet to experiment with our identities. Today we bring our whole selves online. Everything we post is a “categorical imperative rather than one person’s perspective or an invitation to conversation”.
In a world where rituals are cancelled, it is pleasant to read the 20th edition of WELL’s State of the World conversation. The opening remark by Jon Lebkowsky is an important reminder for the year we have entered. As almost everyone is screen-locked by the pandemic, we limit our perception of the world to the view from our couch and the media we consume.
Hi, I’m Kristoffer and you have just read Naive Weekly — Observations from the Internet Wilderness.
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