Simple Complexity

I’m drawn to complexity and often forget that it needs to operate in a virtuous circle with simplicity. It’s like fire: dangerous unless held within useful limits. A complex idea held in its simplest form manifests as lace, an unexpected harmony, or an inspired thought peering around a mental corner. A complex idea not held in its simplest form—or at least, not able to be held, when necessary, in its simplest form—is like a set of heavy stones. It’s possible to juggle them, maybe, but it’s impossible to do it well or for long.

This time around, I’ve mostly avoided juggling stones with this blog, in large part because I somehow have arrived at a point where I no longer think of this file as a TBX or as a web project.

There was a TBX project, and there was a web project: I worked on them simultaneously as I was creating the note structures, prototypes, agents, stamps and export templates, and when I was sorting out how I’d manage and organize uploads to the server. Those projects were a lot of fun, but they are also largely complete. When I open my blog file now, I’m no longer “doing TBX” or organizing a server. I’m writing and revising posts, and when I’m ready, I’m uploading them to my blog.

Something similar has happened in my course file, where years of work on a TBX project has matured into a stable tool for keeping a detailed course diary.

I think in both cases I’ve arrived at a point where my files hold the complex work of “making a blog” or “teaching a course” in something approximating their simplest forms, and in these forms, the files operate like doorways opening onto an ordered garden where I’m free to wander, to daydream and to think about what I’d like to write or what I’d like to teach without having to plant the peonies or to figure out if they need shade or sun.