There is something strong to be said for a genuine smile. A smile that lights up when the person is happy, a smile that makes you unable to not smile — a smile that reflects real happiness. The fake smile at a mild joke is insincere; the fake smile is contagious, a facade. A true smile that reveals the soul — a genuine smile — truly makes a girl.
Science research (and research in general) seems content with itself. Papers and posters have no need to be dressed up; the research findings are simply reported, not communicated. The poster UTRA presentation I went to this summer was a whole hall full of rather dull posters – colors mismatching or lacking taste, blocks of dense text, impenetrable and simply unattractive posters. The information may have been interesting, but it is only as good as the look are. I’m no graphics expert, but a designer would find that the posters’ best use would be fire kindling.
I have to make a poster for my chemistry research early next week. The internet is abuzz with really interesting graphs and pictures; the so-called “infographics” artfully couple interesting information with interesting design. The simplicity of the design – clean text, great colors, simple pictures – are what make them so elegant and attractive. The viewer cannot help but to look and read and follow the picture.
Why does scientific research not adopt this design paradigm? First, science research is content, a disasterous quality. The information is accessible only on a need-to-know basis; seldom does someone voluntarily read a full research paper. Even to those who need the information, reading a full journal paper is mildly easier than reading Foucalt. In short, the authors write journal papers not necessarily for others to read and understand but for their own prestige.
Equally important is the chasm between research and graphic design. The fields are mutually exclusive; one roots itself in concrete results, the other in abstract aesthetic. Infographics have become so common and striking online, though; science research would be foolish not to adopt infographics as the new standard. In my poster, I hope to adopt the infographic style, perhaps shocking a few but intriguing many more.
I spent a little time researching infographics today. The graphics and design are a small part of an infographic; content is paramount. Again and again, clarity and organization were the most important aspects. Build a logical flow; tell a story. In a sense, then, the infographic is like any other form of communication – magazine article, speech, etc. – in that the message triumphs the medium.
Of course, there is a definite designing aspect. Colors and shapes require balance; paring complex pictures into simple ones require a special experience; placement demands a trained eye. But new websites have begun to make the design aspect easy; one site boasts a thirty minute experience. So the question lingers: what is stopping us from ushering in the infographics age?
“I’m sorry for your loss,” so the line goes after the loss of a loved one. The phrase is nothing more than a reflex; like the “Sorry” after stepping on someone’s foot, or the “You too” after the cashier tells you to have a nice day. The troubling thing is that the five words have become so conditioned, so trite, so vague, that they hardly mean what we want it to. Perhaps it is that we can say them without actually feeling anything that makes it so external and cold.
Why do we choose to use such meaningless words? If a picture is worth a thousand words, how can we distill death into such a compact phrase? Perhaps it is just the convenience of the phrase; it is the tried, true, and accepted way to cope with death. Perhaps it is that the phrase allows people to block out the one universal fear. Perhaps it speaks to the inadequacy of the English language; there are synonyms for the feeling of death – “sorrow”, “sadness”, “despair”, “wretchedness” – but none of these words can quite strike the heart and rattle the brain like a death can, no word can really make you feel death.
Artists of all sorts have long realized that emotion cannot be captured by words, that comfort can seldom be found in transient words. Comfort lies in the presence of close friends; funerals show not just respect for the deceased but his friends too. The singer can shape his melodies to pluck the heart strings; the painter can paint a scene more realistic than real life that it evokes feelings that have long been bottled up inside.
The meaning of “I’m sorry for your loss” has always eluded me. As a child, I wondered what it is I should be sorry for. I myself have used it, in a state of shock upon hearing of death. Avoiding the feelings, turning to let the death have a glancing blow, at once seemed right. For that, I apologize to Hannah and Sarah.
Now, I realize that it is a vacuous phrase, a canned expression meant to simplify and detach a true feeling. I imagine it could just be a shorthand way of saying something more meaningful. Perhaps the expression continues on: “I’m sorry for your loss; I do not know how to put into words how you must feel. She was a great person, who loved you more than you could ever know. I cannot begin to imagine how I would feel to lose someone so close to me. If you ever need anything do not hesitate to let me know. I’m here for you.”
The Thoughts that Brew in My Head 