Self Control - Quite Literally

I've been reading a collection of essays by biological researcher and physician Lewis Thomas, essays which have been making me wonder - why don't we have closer communication with (or at least awareness of) the cells we are comprised of?

It occurred to me, while learning of the precise anatomical structure of lungs, bones, and nerves, to ask, why didn't I know all of this already? Why should people have to research the inner workings of their bodies? It may be that it is a problem of separation. The brain doesn't know how the circulatory system works because it doesn't identify with it. Neurons don't automatically comprehend the functions then, of myocardial cells in the heart because they are strangers to them. But this is a poor excuse, for if it were the case, neurons would at least know how other neurons work. This is obviously untrue, as it is impossible to find a person who innately knows how their nervous system operates.

It seems unfair that I should be so cut off from my cells. Perhaps, however, it would not be such a great idea to be closely involved with them either, as Thomas points out in his essay Autonomy. "If I were informed tomorrow that I was in direct communication with my liver, and could now take over, I would become deeply depressed. ... Nothing would save me and my liver, if I were in charge" Thomas writes. I have to admit, he has a point. Knowledge of (and authority over) each and every one of our cells would effectively bury us.

So, I acknowledge that the running of my systems is beyond me. Wouldn't it be nice, though, to have a bit more intercommunication? Hello white blood cells, how are you today? It's curious to think that even the means to contact my own cells is also beyond me. When I say me though, I am referring to... hang on.
My cells converse with each other every second, so what part of me is being excluded exactly? Is it only my thoughts that are disconnected from my cells?

This is confusing. To be continued...

They found my marbles!

A few months ago I had the chance to have an MRI taken. Wait, something in that sentence sounds off...

Yes, I "had the chance to". In other words, I up and volunteered to have my brain imaged and inspected by other curious students, and I was lucky that I had the opportunity to delve into my own brain!

Apples!

It only really feels like fall once we start picking apples from the three trees in our front yard.
I decided to share a few...

Synthesis & Characterization of Self-Assembling Nanoparticles for Applications in Site-Specific Drug Delivery

How's that for a title? I enjoyed an awesome internship this summer at the Biomimetic Nanostructures Lab, at the California NanoSciences Institute, UCSB. I got to make amphiphilic polymers - specifically, light-sensitive molecules - that are designed for site-specific drug delivery to cancers. I couldn't have asked for better mentors - thank you Mike Isaacman and Luke Theogarajan! Here's my final presentation:

http://csep.cnsi.ucsb.edu/kathryn-barron

Edible Gardens

This past summer my family has been creating an organic vegetable garden - in our back driveway. Yep, the driveway. That once mundane and lifeless patch of asphalt has been utterly transformed into raised beds of productive greenery. A few of the fruits and veggies on the menu this year are:

Zucchini
Squash (they look like little lemon-colored UFO's!)
Asparagus
Blackberries
Bell Peppers
Italian and Lemon Basil Plants
Oregano
Thyme
Pumpkins
Raspberries
Cucumbers
Grapes
Green Beans
...and lastly, Tomatoes. With a capital T.

I have to say the most incredible sections of our garden are those containing the tomatoes. This year we went all out and bought several varieties of heirloom tomatoes; Sungolds, Persimmons, Zebras, Siberian Blacks, tomatoes that could never be found (and probably wouldn't even be recognized) in most current grocery stores. I have been absolutely stunned at the variety of unique tastes, shapes, colors, and even leaves that each tomato plant produces. The disparity in quality between store bought and home grown produce especially strikes me when we harvest our collections of grape-sized Sungolds, Juliets, and other delicious heirlooms. Probably my favorites so far are the bright orange Sungolds (above) - so sweet they taste like candy - and the hefty Persimmons (below).  Every homegrown tomato I have tasted has far outstripped the watery excuses for fruit that are stacked up in waxy, muted red pyramids at the store. No, our tomatoes aren't perfect, they have stretch marks, bug bites, mismatched sizes, but every defect adds character on top of their already colorful, flavorful nature.

Street Art

Colored Building in Downtown S.F.

Tenderloin District Mural

Many people find graffiti offensive or unsightly, but after seeing walls done by the likes of Apex and Neon and Chez (pictured above) in the Tenderloin district of San Francisco, I admit I have become a complete street art fan. Whether full-blown murals, or simple - and often random - street "doodles", discovering art in public spaces often makes my day.

Miniature Street Art! - Brattleboro, VT

Ghostly building, painted on a building. San Francisco, CA

Does Now Exist?

Faster than you can perceive it, it's over. We are always thinking and processing at least a few milliseconds behind a moment that is already gone. Even if time is not linear, there is no question that it is moving.

Okay, scratch that. Suppose it is actually us who move through time. Perhaps it is some sort of Brownian motion we experience through the temporal dimension, colliding with certain moments head on then rocketing onto a straight line crash course with another instant. It would make sense for the same forces that govern basic molecular motion through space to jumble and jostle us through time.

Imagine that from any given position in the time-dimension, two people are headed toward the exact same time frame. Arriving at the moment, they would bring a different perspective since, quite literally, they would come at the moment from a different angle. Interpretation would then be based on dissimilarities of location within the expanse of time.

This pinball game portrayal of time seems to assume that the moments already exist to bump into on the playing field (not to mention the question it raises of who set the marbles in motion). If this is the case, moments, experiences are predetermined. Something in me violently protests this thought. I would much prefer to think that time proceeds, or rather, we proceed with time, on a more interdependent level. Much like the apical meristem of a plant's roots, the very tip, the forefront of a growing force, where each cell depends on the growth of the others - time emanates from a past basis but instantaneously changes direction, alongside those who experience it.