White noise is a random signal (or process) with a flat power spectral density. In other words, the signal's power spectral density has equal power in any band, at any center frequency, having a given bandwidth. White noise is considered analogous to white light which contains all frequencies.
Who am I?
Monday, August 10, 2009
The airport is like a city itself. And I have no desire to walk about with the weight of my book bag, exploring it like Alice. It's very shiny. Vegas would be jealous of an airport like this. The only thing missing are the slot machines - those personifications of sin. I was surprised to find liquor being sold very grandiosely, looked on benignly by enlarged visages of fully clothed beautiful women selling different products from the advertising hoarding on the side of the walkways. And amidst all this sheen, you find the inevitable burkha clad woman, peering through that slit that allows her to take in all this. You also see the teen/early twenties woman clad in a shirt and not too loose jeans strolling about with her headscarved Mum. Then there is namaaz read over the loudspeaker, as if to keep the avarice of the people within check from the enticing clutches of all the duty free shops.
I feel like that little baby next to me in the flight - in a new arena, and tightly closing my fists, as if that will protect me from all the foreign matter in my new environment. I wonder if babies dream. I wonder because I noticed the baby smiling from time to time in its post-meal nap. I couldn't tell if the smiles coincided with slight turbulence. Maybe it dreamed that it was being catapulted into the air by strong arms. I have noticed babies usually like that kind of excitement, which isn't really strange, considering they spend most of their time on laps or prams. I would like to conduct an experiment. I want to get a special seat made in a rollercoaster for the baby. See how it squals with joy next to its parents, who would of course be screaming - terrified by the cathartic ride.
Monday, August 03, 2009
My new baby is all ready - cut and raring to go - to breathe in the air of our screening room on the Warner Brothers lot, filled with parental (not mine) anticipation and the wallah of the silently beating twelve hearts of the directors, mixed in with the vibrations of a few shaking legs, punctuated by flashes from brilliantly white teeth of the actors, and later hopefully the air of at least a few film festivals. The only thing she lacks is the music now, kind of like a newborn waiting for a name - that very first gift from its parents. "Silent Night" is a personal ode to Godard's "Breathless", well at least the cutting, and to an extent, the look, is. There are differences obviously, but revealing them may spoil things.
My composer (this brilliant guy in San Francisco) and I had been going back and forth over some section of some of the cues - creative differences during the last week. Now, all that's been ironed out and he tried sending me some of the tunes earlier, but technology revolted, and another attempt will be made (soon hopefully!). Till then it is just sitting around, watching the top left corner of the screen - waiting for it to say "Gmail - Inbox (1)", reading PFC, wondering about De Sica's brilliance in the just watched "The Garden of the Finzi-Continis", staring at Jeanne Moreau in B&W on my desktop, center punched in a deep, full shot in Antonioni's "La Notte", with those famous upturned lips - beautiful in her melancholic loneliness.
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