Exposure

• In photography, exposure is the total amount of light allowed to fall on the photographic medium (photographic film or image sensor) during the process of taking a photograph. Exposure is measured in lux seconds, and can be computed from exposure value (EV) and scene luminance over a specified area.
• vulnerability to the elements; to the action of heat or cold or wind or rain; "exposure to the weather" or "they died from exposure";
• the act of subjecting someone to an influencing experience; "she denounced the exposure of children to pornography"
• the disclosure of something secret; "they feared exposure of their campaign plans"

I have received comments from several readers that I should be careful with what I post on my blog. They meant it kindly, mind you. Not in a you-are-so-dumb-be-careful-with-what-you-post-or-you-better-watch-your-step kind of attitude. They just pointed it out, like asking "hey, that's not something people usually shout out. Did you really mean that stuff to be public?" I did mean it, and I told them so. Why shouldn't I let everyone see the poems I like? Or the thoughts, trivial or long, that I make up? They describe my reasoning and my ideological taste. Why shouldn't people know my feelings? They show how I react to various situations. Why shouldn't I tell the internet about my history, my activities? If no one else exposes their own, it does not mean I don't have the right to.

But when I was pointed out that my blog entries were "too public" by other people, I could not help but feeling, inside of me, a tingling sensation of exposure that made me rethink my privacy threshold. There are still certain "secrets" I keep that I feel an obligation to keep undisclosed, and I frequently teeter-totter on the border of ambiguity to spill them out. I have no problem with, and even like to, disclose myself in my entirety. But I run into the same privacy issues that online social networks face these days - one cannot disclose oneself entirely without also disclosing everyone around one to an extent that they find uncomfortable. And if the people one knows were to become uncomfortable with one's disclosures, all of them would refuse to continue being around one, and one would end up alone and friendless. How sad. Or would one end up only with people that don't mind being completely open about their lives? I just don't think I know anyone like that. Hmm... nope, don't think so.

Today's society demands a certain level of privacy, and it enforces it with habit and with shame. The connections and dependencies between people are very strong, in any case, and a person often thinks that others are eager to disconnect with them if they find out his "secrets" are revealed. But is that really the case? And if so, is keeping these connections worth keeping parts of himself constrained?

And the closer a person is to you, the stronger a friend and you are connected, the more you know about her. The more she confides in you, the more she trusts you not to divulge her information. But that information has also, in a way, become your information. You now share a piece of knowledge of which you don't have ownership or right to expression. By knowing your friend's secrets, you have lost your right to express whatever you want, whatever is on your mind. Does that make sense? Is it worth it?

Many of these concepts may seem trivial or absurd to even mention. Like asking "Why do objects fall? Do they have to fall? Maybe we can make them NOT fall!". Expression. Is expression a good thing? All in good measure, as some say. But good measure is way too often confused with whatever, it works, let's just keep on doing it the same way, and that is an attitude I beg to oppose. That is why I feel the limits of privacy, like those of many other things, should be bent, and the area outside of them tested. Scouted. Experienced. Not for everyone, of course. Everyone has their right to their privacy. But we also have the right to our disclosure, and it is my opinion that this is one we do not exercise enough.

I have written blog entries that contain information other people find disturbing. Not too much - I don't really have a reason or feel the need to directly clash with other people's opinions or beliefs, and I actually have an over-sensitive concern for the possible negative consequences I might induce upon others with careless actions. But a couple of times they have been disturbing enough to cause someone else to ask me whether I really meant them to be published. Which makes me think I'm on the right track.

However, I have been accumulating secrets ever since 2007. Actually, I've been accumulating secrets ever since the year 2000, but only those since 2007 have prevented me from publishing blog entries. And these darn secrets are terrible. I don't like them. They constrain my expression, and make me feel as if I should be ashamed of something about myself. I shouldn't... but I keep the secrets nonetheless. Because they are not just mine. Because I am not their owner. Sigh.

And now counting... I have thirty-three unpublished blog entries. Thirty-three. Out of three hundred and thirty four. Almost 10% of my blog entries are kept private because of secrets in relationships. Why do they so often end up in secrecy? Maybe one of these days I should just assume that my blog is rarely read anyway, and consider that most everyone doesn't really care.

There is another effect that occurs due to exposing oneself entirely that I think is worth knowing: dilution. Well, that's what I call it.

When one initially conceives an idea, it is entirely one's own. It has one's own particular personality imprinted upon it, fresh, pure, and usually simple. The particular way in which one conceives an idea is perfectly unique, as it springs from one's unique perspective and context, equal to no one else's. Like a fresh piece of code one wrote oneself, one understands it perfectly and knows it from top to bottom. It comes directly from Plato's "World of Ideas", in a manner of speaking.

If this idea is shared with someone else, this other person will take this idea in and attempt to fit it into his own conceptual framework. Since the idea and the way in which it was expressed are unique, this other person will need to make some kind of adjustment to the idea to fit it into his own framework. Relate it to his own context, recreate with pieces of his own knowledge and experience, which can be a whole lot different from one's own. It will rarely, if ever, have the exact same representation in the new person's mind. At this point, the idea's "code" has been shared (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apache_Subversion).

(As a note to the the previous paragraph, this is also why one should try to be as clear and accurate as possible when expressing ideas - to achieve a good approximation in the other person's mind).

The new person then naturally, after having inferred his own version of the idea, will have an opinion about it. Does it make sense to him? Does it fit in nicely with his own experience, or can he find counter-arguments or counterexamples to it? He will react to the idea SOMEHOW, whether he wants to or not. He can discuss it, counter it, agree with it, or make a facial expression that lets one know WHAT did this person think. He has reacted to it, so he has shared his opinion on it. He has submitted SOME change to the code through the versioning system. Either through direct opinion or not, one has received an opinion on one's own idea. The code is no longer pure - it has, at some level, been "diluted" with its environment.

This can be a very good thing if one trusts the other person to be better-suited to appreciate the idea. I would most probably trust H&R Block if they told me my idea on getting more tax money back won't work - their tax experience is way broader than mine. But I would be less inclined to trust a friend if he told me the food is having is not really that spicy - I consider myself to be the most knowledgeable person in matters of my own taste. There are just some things that one does not necessarily trust other people to know more about, or even understand. And the more personal these things are, the more likely this is true.

You might argue that one need not be affected by the other person's opinion on your idea, that one can keep the "pure" version of the idea, and need not perceive any consequence of this subtle exchange of opinions. But in my own experience, this turns out to be mostly false, especially if the idea is still fresh and undeveloped. Simple and pure as it starts, it is also growing and very sensitive to change. And one is not a perfectly controlled being - I see the division between one and the rest of the world as a semi-permeable membrane. One does not simply merge into its environment or viceversa through entropy, like a food colorant in water, or like smoke through a room - one rather exchanges controlled bursts of actions, depending upon one's own decision and convenience. But just like with living cells, this allows one only a certain level of control. Cells in a hypertonic saline solution will dehydrate, and a hypotonic saline solution will swell them up. One is always inevitably affected by one's environment, and even the gentlest opinion from another person on one's idea can alter it, especially if the idea is still new and fresh. In such a state, I believe the best course of action is to incubate this idea in one's mind and develop it by oneself, until one feels that it has reached a solid-enough state to be shared with its surroundings.

Thus, to avoid dilution of ideas, I think keeping some thoughts private is important - especially if one sees a high potential in them. And although each person can have a different opinion on the subject, this concept of "dilution" is what my own observations and experience have led me to infer.

Also, long-exposure pics are cool. But they come out really shaky sometimes, even with a tripod.