{"id":2811,"date":"2020-08-23T04:00:35","date_gmt":"2020-08-23T04:00:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/suewoolfe.com.au\/pages\/?p=2811"},"modified":"2020-08-23T04:49:01","modified_gmt":"2020-08-23T04:49:01","slug":"day-150","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/suewoolfe.com.au\/pages\/day-150\/","title":{"rendered":"Day 150"},"content":{"rendered":"

Written 20 August 2020.<\/strong><\/p>\n

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We exclaim about the light all week. It’s because the he trees that have shadowed us are gone. I’m not a tree hater. In fact, I love trees. In early childhood, trees were my parents. I’d \u00a0sit with trees and confide in them, not humans. I can still remember my favourite, a huge old gum tree that shed red bark that took my breath away; it seemed like a beautiful person throwing down their red clothes.<\/p>\n

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So much light:\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

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All week I spent preparing my two-hour zoom lecture to the ANU composers. I needed to get the students up to speed because on 28 August, my pin-up hero neuroscientist, Professor Liane Gabora of the University of British Columbia has agreed to zoom talk to them, and I want them to understand what she’s saying, and get the most out of this marvellous opportunity. I’ve been summarising several key chapters and papers she’s written, to give them a potted version. She’s rare amongst neuroscientists because she understands artistic creativity. I’ve discovered she writes fiction, and she’s sent us a piece of music she’s composed. It’s on her website, so it’s no secret.<\/p>\n

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https:\/\/people.ok.ubc.ca\/lgabora\/<\/p>\n

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When I requested it, she sent me music she’d composed.<\/p>\n