I completed this task back in December while on a trip to Big Bear Lake with a large group of friends and comrades from school. We had the misfortune of being a bit too early for snow, so the majority of the trip was spent indoors.

Among the three cabins we occupied, we had several computers, a Wii, a PS2, and plenty of board/card/roleplaying game supplies. This translates to countless hours of Super Smash Brothers Brawl, Katamari Damacy, Dance Dance Revolution, Taiko Drum Master, and, of course, Dungeons and Dragons. A few of my cabin-mates decided to lug their sewing machines on the trip. Combine large numbers of amped up undergrads with copious amounts of video games and sewing machines, and you get a bizarre mixture of sights and sounds. Basically, there was constant noise. Lots of it.



This set the stage for my completion of this task. I had intended to complete this task out in the wilderness and observe the peaceful stillness and tranquility of the environment. However, it seemed the right time to make my observations when I was sitting on the couch in the cabin living room one evening amidst the usual cacophony of shouting and video game noise.



I wish I could've written more material, but this environment took a toll on me, addling my brain and affecting my ability to think and write coherently. So, here I present (in its original form) my written observation of the insanity that ensued on this cabin trip, documented over the course of thirty long minutes.

Miles from home in a cabin, I sit upon a large and cushiony couch. I sink right through the couch, it's so soft. This winter night, I sit in warmth and softness, in my protected space. But all around me is chaos. People sit gathered around me. Chattering, yelling, shouting. They are fast and I am slow. There is laughter on both sides. Music all around. The music is mingling. Mingling in the air. And out from it, comes an exotic, disturbing, yet very fitting aural mess. On the television, rainbow colours dart all around the screen as geese stick out their beaks at the sides. Everyone's hands are busy. They are typing, sewing, button-mashing. A beautiful tapestry hangs on the wall, displaying pictures of various fruits. Among all this chaos, I am sitting as an observer who occasionally lets slip her primary role. My only contribution to the room at large are my warmth, my laughter, the music coming from my computer's speakers, and an occasional comment. The dulcet tones of Donovan emanate from the speakers. Either from the front door or bedroom door, another person emerges from somewhere unknown.


It is cold inside and outside but I am very warm. My eyes are burning. Everywhere people are sitting and talking and moving. The lights are very bright. Someone yells out, 'LIPSTICK!' and starts laughing hysterically. There is laughter all around, as a commotion over a lost screw ensues. The most recent visitor departs. I check my timer and I have almost 10 minutes remaining to this writing task. Friendly obscenities are being tossed all around the room. As I sit in the room, minutes draw onward and yet the situation around me changes very little. People in the room kiss, type, button-mash, and eat with their hands. The music coming from my computer's speakers has now changed to the Beatles' album, Revolver. Three of the people around me are using computers. I check my timer again, and it now shows less than five minutes. I feel my computer slipping down my legs, so I grab it a bit. Around the room, the light is bright but still dim in the corners. And the scene hasn't really changed.

For anyone unfamiliar with Katamari Damacy, I encourage you to get your hands on a copy of this game and play it. As I cannot include screenshots of the game with this praxis, please indulge yourself with this Youtube video of the game's intro so that you may familiarise yourself with the colourful geese I mentioned in my observations above.

Looking back on it, the mania of my subject, while preventing me from writing a substantial quantity of material, enabled me to enter a unique state of mind from which I could make my observations. Under the crushing effects of the sensory overload one can experience in a room full of nonstop gaming, and sewing, and yelling, I allowed myself to become detached enough to truly observe. And in the end, I not only observed the environment around me, but also the effects it had on my state of mind.



With the completion of this task, I have created for myself a brief memoir of this trip which shall preserve my memory of it for the years to come. More praxis for tasks completed during this trip will follow once I have worked with my collaborators to organise our documentation and photos.