The odor of raisins What would be the use, for instance, in giving the plan of the room that was really my room, in describing the little room at the end of the garret, in saying that from the window, across the indentations of the roofs, one could see the hill. I alone, in my memories of another century, can open the deep cupboard that still retains for me alone that unique odor, the odor of raisins drying on a wicker tray. The odor of raisins! It is an odor that is beyond description, one that it takes a lot of imagination to smell. But I've already said too much. If I said more, the reader, back in his own room, would not open that unique wardrobe, with its unique smell, which is the signature of intimacy. Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space smellmemory
I don’t believe in Zoom fatigue An Article by Matt Webb interconnected.org It’s not Zoom fatigue, it’s Zoom whiplash. It’s a hunch. I can’t prove this. The trick to get around this is to move smoothly up and down the gradient of social interaction intensity, never dropping below a basic floor of presence: the sense that there are other people in the same place as you. Instead of having two modes, “in a call” and “on my own,” we need to think about multiple ways of being together which, minimally, could be: In a video call In an anteroom to a video call, hearing the sound of others In a doc together On my desktop but with the sense that colleagues are around And the job of the designer is to ensure that their software ensures the existence of these different contexts, instead of having the binary on-a-call/not-on-a-call, and to design the transitions between them. communicationworktransitionssoftware