I'm going to make a robot pet
I am building a robot pet.
Read MoreInnovation and Learning
Start with clarity of intent.
Now build it out with an evocative vision. Improvise progress by tinkering: with lots of trial and lots of error. The not knowing is the best bit: the mysteries the surprises, and from time to time the windfalls!
Hello there, I'm Steve Collis!
Click on "contact", won't you, and wave right back at me?
I am building a robot pet.
Read MoreI’ve just returned home now from a week Christchurch, where I was invited for a series of educational events.
Christchurch - a place I hadn't been before, but knew simply as the place where an earthquake took the life of my friend Carey Bird.
“In photographing the land the photographer therefore not only helps us find out who we are, they also participate in shaping who we will become.”
I came to know Carey playing music at church - he was the sort of friend you gain not by making an effort, but through the natural sharing of time and space in a weekly activity. He was quiet, very kind, confident but gently spoken, and had a sort of wry observed humour.
He loved his music and enjoyed his solitude, and after church would stay nested in the corner playing blues-y electric guitar with creative combinations of pedal-effects. But Carey was no loner. He was a family man and rich with longstanding friends.
We grew close to both Carey and Jan Bird. My wife Rachel gave piano lessons to their daughter Lauren, and in the meantime Carey and I would crack out a morning beer (while lovely Jan tut-tutted & tried to fill us up with cheese) & jammed in their backyard, sometimes seeing in passing their son Andrew, who loved his computer games and seemed very much like his dad.
Carey was noticeably peaceful and centred. He oozed out a bubble of calm space. There was never an agenda. As an anxious, wired-up person I found this reassuring.
Our photo of Carey's. He tells its story here.
He loved nature and photography, and at an exhibition of his work we purchased a deep & ambiguous image which found a home on the wall of our bedroom. To me it spoke to the melancholy and mysteries of life, capturing my ever-growing feeling that I didn’t really know anything at all, or if I did, it was lurking in the shadows.
I’ve just now learned that Carey had a degree in philosophy. I’d never have guessed, but now I know, it makes sense, and it was like Carey not to mention it.
Carey worked in insurance and travelled to Christchurch in February 2011 to do work connected to the previous earthquake.
A fuller story is told here.
On February 22, as Carey lay pinned under a beam on the fourth floor of a collapsed building, a stranger who had himself just crawled to safety climbed up and found him. His name was Tony McCormick. He stayed with Carey through his final hours, even as the tremors and peril continued, and critically relayed messages to and from his family.
So it was that word came to a friend Dave Nash, who called me, and soon after I spoke with friend Dean Tregenza, and so on, and so all of us knew his situation, and were comforted that he wasn’t alone, and then later, we learned through Tony that Carey had passed, well before such news was official.
In the grief that accrues in my life, by chapters making me both sadder and wiser, the loss of Carey has had its own special space. Now - almost 5 years later to the day - I’m less anxious, mellower, and I feel a measure of peace that was largely missing in my life in the days when Carey was around. In that strange sense, it is possible I know him better now. Like everyone, my identity is woven with potentials I experienced first through others and thereafter pursued.
Thanks for that, Carey.
When I touched down in Christchurch late last Tuesday afternoon, I have to confess I was suppressing thoughts of Carey.
Because I had to navigate meetings, run training, buy materials, be interviewed on film, and play front man and presenter for a big event. I steeled myself to push through. I rationalised that I could think about Carey on Saturday before my flight home – and maybe find the place he died, and… I didn’t know what.
So Wednesday afternoon quite blindsided me.
The view from the room where I was meeting CORE Ed colleagues
We were meeting.
I was meeting with colleagues from CORE Education preparing for the following day. When I mentioned I had a friend who had died in the earthquake, they gestured to the wall behind me where a poster was on display. The poster was specific to the CORE Ed building, to commemorate lives lost in the adjacent building that used to stand on what was now a pristine green lawn metres away from our room’s glass walls.
I twisted around to see this poster. Although my colleagues kept speaking I lost concentration, for I saw there were faces printed. On a whim I stood up and walked over, knowing I had to check, because who knows, and just because.
This poster was on the wall
I was stunned to see Carey right there!
And there was Carey, and there I was, unprepared to meet him.
Politely I revealed this to the team at the meeting, and politely we all worked hard not to melt into little puddles.
It came home to me during my visit that most everyone in Christchurch has a story - has stories. I glimpsed these gradually through conversations. And that the stories have no bookend – because after everything happened, and everything changed, still the ground trembles, and still the buildings shake.
edit: and even since I've returned a much larger quake hit, injuring no one apparently, but rattling everyone. Poor old Christchurch! I really had no idea until my visit.
a tiny earthquake during the session
They shook the next day – Thursday - even as I spoke at a microphone in a big hall to fellow teachers. One person sweetly tweeted about it in jest.
I didn't even notice the little tremble but some people in the room did
I decided to briefly share the story of Carey Bird, knowing the tears they had for his story would be for other stories too, grieving from a well of grief, where all the waters mix together, and a bucket brought to the surface lifts bits of everything, and you can’t say exactly who or why or where.
the site where the building was. My CORE Ed meeting was in the building you can see in the distance. The plants there are a small memorial.
In contrast, on the Wednesday at the small meeting we all held our composure, just. Ange pointed to the three trees outside the CORE Education building and said they were known as “the witness trees”. She said the lawn was a sacred site, and on the far side there was a little memorial – one of many around the city.
So when the Wednesday meeting finished I took my leave and went to find the tiny memorial. A little sign there invited people to place their own memorials: either flowers, to be eventually composted, or something more durable, which would be left a while then saved for a museum, and I knew I had to return and leave something.
The sign at the memorial
I stood there in the late afternoon rain and opened myself up, and for a time for me it was all limbic system and no frontal cortex.
not just the three witness trees on this day... I'm finally a witness too!
On Thursday and Friday the big event ran – successful and all-consuming. I awoke late Saturday morning in a post-adrenaline crash, bereft of clarity or willpower. There was little time left before my flight. I saw a café with a florist in it and decided it was the best I could do.
I felt truly disappointed, because I wanted to leave something more durable than flowers!
The very instant I pushed on the door of the café my eyes fell on two little birds made from metal, and my disappointment changed to a feeling I just can’t describe.
The café staff humoured me as I borrowed a marker from them & worked in the corner with poster board, cutting board and a razor from the car. I felt embarrassed and intense.
I tried to write not just for me but hopefully on behalf of others who knew Carey, and are grateful to Tony McCormick, and were affected by the story of that day, and saw what it means for life, and for hope in a world still full of peril and of apparent strangers.
birds from the cafe
Rachel Collis and I teamed up to write "Winter in Munich" - it took us months but it's done, & we're really happy with it. I know, for me, it's a great song if the end result feels like deep therapy, every line, in lots of ways. Perhaps you'll find something resonant in it too.
Winter in Munich
25 hours in a plane
Floating in in-between space
A baby cries, now you’re alone, now you are safe
A yellow light whispers the way
The captain announces it’s day
The wheels hit the ground and the plane is a rattling cage
Say that a past gets lost in translation
Let it fade, let it fade in dense population
Say that a heart tenders resignation
Let it fade, let it fade
And calm your thoughts as this roaring engine stills its frantic pace
Burst outside, let the mist envelope you in cold embrace
Trams and trains follow their trails
Lead you to where you will stay
The sun skirts the horizon, watch it fall meekly away
Hold your hands up to the glass
Outside the grey’s become dark
The world’s withered away, lost to the view, folded like craft
Say that a past gets lost in translation
Let it fade, let it fade in dense population
Say that a heart tenders resignation
Let it fade, let it fade
And calm your thoughts as this roaring engine stills its frantic pace
Steal your breath as the city tries to find a hiding place
Say that a past gets lost in translation
Let it fade, let it fade in dense population
Say that a heart tenders resignation
Let it fade, let it fade
And hold on fast as 2 million people shield the winter’s hate
Sleep at last as the streets around you hold your fleeing fate
Float like a newborn, gasping and sneezing
Puffed by the chimneys, into the freezing
Feast on the dreams that these strangers have stayed for,
And not run away for, and faced down dismay for.
Allow our cats to tweet the mundane events of their lives.
The Plan
Set up sensors connected to a computer, then program the computer to send tweets when the sensors trigger.
I hatched a cunning plan.
The diagram to the left is missing one thing only: a cooperative cat...
...but how hard can that be?
A "Makey Makey" is a USB device that the computer thinks is a keyboard, but it actually tells the computer a key has been pressed when you put two wires together.
Makey Makey
Raspberry Pi
A "Raspberry Pi" is a super-cheap $35 computer... I bought mine from "Aus Pi" for $160 in a kit with a USB hub, wireless card, power etc.
I already had a webcam!
I'm familiar with Windows, but the Raspberry Pi computer comes with "Rasberrian" pre-installed. The good news for me is I see desktop similar to Windows, with a start button, desktop icons and a taskbar.
Python
I need to program the computer to tweet when the cats have their water.
Python is a computer programming language. I have never used it before. The Raspberry Pi comes with "Python" already installed and good to go.
I had a stack of stuff to learn to make this work. It was much easier than I expected.
I had to figure out:
I learned by:
The learning process was glorious... on one day I spent well over 12 hours with no proper break. Flow, flow, flow!
Yes!
import time
import os
import pygame
from pygame.locals import *
import smtplib
from email.MIMEMultipart import MIMEMultipart
from email.MIMEBase import MIMEBase
from email.MIMEText import MIMEText
from email.Utils import COMMASPACE, formatdate
from email import Encoders
import sys
import subprocess
my_subject = "Miao Miao! Hello, this is Timo or Baps telling the world
that we're enjoying some water! Look and see:"
USERNAME = "#######"
PASSWORD = "#######"
def takepicture():
grab_cam = subprocess.Popen(
"sudo fswebcam -r 320*240 -S 15 -d /dev/video0
/home/pi/HappyTimo.jpg", shell=True)
grab_cam.wait()
def sendMail(send_to, subject, text, files=[]):
assert type(files)==list
assert type(send_to)==list
msg = MIMEMultipart()
msg['From'] = USERNAME
msg['To'] = COMMASPACE.join(send_to)
msg['Date'] = formatdate(localtime=True)
msg['Subject'] = subject
msg.attach( MIMEText(text) )
for file in files:
part = MIMEBase('application', "octet-stream")
part.set_payload( open("/home/pi/HappyTimo.jpg","rb").read() )
Encoders.encode_base64(part)
part.add_header('Content-Disposition', 'attachment; filename="%s"'
% os.path.basename(file))
msg.attach(part)
server = smtplib.SMTP('smtp.gmail.com',587)
server.ehlo()
server.starttls()
server.ehlo()
server.login(USERNAME,PASSWORD)
server.sendmail(USERNAME, send_to, msg.as_string())
server.quit()
pygame.init()
screen = pygame.display.set_mode((640,480))
pygame.display.set_caption('Pygame Caption')
pygame.mouse.set_visible(0)
done= False
while not done:
pygame.event.clear()
happened = pygame.event.wait()
if happened.type == QUIT:
done=True
elif happened.type == NOEVENT:
print "confusing"
elif (happened.type == KEYDOWN):
print happened
print happened.key
if happened.key == K_SPACE:
print happened
print happened.key
takepicture()
time.sleep(10)
sendMail( ["########@photos.flickr.com"],
my_subject,
"tags: cat",
["HappyTimo.jpg"] )
time.sleep(5)
pygame.event.clear()
else:
done=True
sys.exit()
First of all, here is the game as it was actually played:
I was very worried at one point because I saw a way that Tim could smash me. Here is the alternative I saw, from move 20. I've only played it forward several moves because that's as far as I can predict my reply to Tim's super-moves, had he played them. In any case it leaves me in a very vulnerable position with two pieces directly threatened and slaughter guaranteed.
From here, he can take my bishop on D5 or my rook on F1. And my King is out in the open. It would end even worse if we imagine I don't move my queen to C3 to prevent the rook on G8 coming down and checking me.
Our cat, having a strange dream involving lots of hopping.
I connected our cat Timo to the computer via USB!
At first it didn't work. I don't think cat fur is good for circuitry.
But then it worked!
As he licks up the water in the bowl, he closes a circuit that the computer interprets as a space bar being pressed - you can see on the screen how the space bar is pushing part of the internet address along the top of the screen, and the green LED light flashes.
Each lick = one space!
I did it with a Makey Makey. An alligator clip comes off the Makey Makey onto the aluminum foil. Another alligator clip is sitting in the bowl of water. What's missing? A CAT TO CONNECT THEM HA HA!
Hardcore professional cyclist
(in the middle of nowhere, riding very slowly and looking very puffed.)
In other news, Rachel had a sip of water from a bottle of only slightly smaller than herself.
Bremen train station:
at Sydney airport, off to Germany with @rachel_collis...24 hrs to go!6:52 PM Dec 9th from mobile web
http://twitpic.com/svlc9 - Me at the airport!6:59 PM Dec 9th from TwitPic
man near us left his luggage unattended & got told off!7:22 PM Dec 9th from mobile web
After a blissfully easy flight (notwithstanding its length - but I slept 8 out of the 21 hours) we are in Bremen!12:19 AM Dec 11th from web
Just went to the Christmas markets in Bremen! I WANT TO MOVE HERE AND LIVE HERE FOREVER!!! Deep fried camembert... you do the math!4:55 AM Dec 11th from TweetDeck