Today started with a plenary talk from Amy Alznauer on Why We Tell Stories. Her main argument was that we tell stories because our lives are stories, and we have questions of which we long for answers. The stories themselves are simply vehicles for council: my first stop. Alznauer introduced a quote from Walter Benjamin: "Council is less an answer to a question than a proposal concerning the continuation of a story which is just unfolding." This makes sense and connects with my experiences and discussion with Coast Salish educators on the topic of parenting; stories are often told as a means of council rather than prescriptive commands that lead to power-struggles. The stories then become a vehicle for self-reflection and introspection; the same story may be told many times with the child pulling a new message from it due to their developing experiences in life. A story becomes a way for a teller to process occurrences of cause and effect, making clearer for themselves relations in time.
My second stop was when Alznauer brought up the idea (through quotes of Edward Shils, Wendell Berry and Doris Schattscheider) of being at the centre and alternatively (or simultaneously) at the periphery. Each location comes with benefits. As math artists, mathematics is at the periphery of fine art, and art is at the periphery of mathematics. The peripheral relation promotes beneficial qualities of engaging in generative (genius) power as an originator, with freedom and passion of a lover/amateur, with the wonder of a child. Perhaps this is why cross-curricular interdisciplinary projects offer such exciting opportunities; just by engaging simultaneously in two different disciplines, you get to access all the benefits of peripheral qualities.
My third stop was when Alznauer mentioned the tombstone of Lucy Joan Slater which read Computer Pioneer. Alznauer stated that Lucy was homeschooled and that it was a huge benefit to her as she was able to have the time to pursue whatever interested her. This connects with thoughts that I've been having about the rapid pace of 21st century life, time-pressures of government curriculum and the school system, and focused downtime for hobbies (aka boredom that leads to discovery). As Hannah Fry stated in a youtube short, "Time [pressure] - the killer of all things good." to which I absolutely agree. I'm not sure if "fear" is the right word that accompanies time-pressures, but I certainly have made many choices in my classroom out of "fear" (linguistically, perhaps literally) that I will run out of time - condensing instructions for important activities, cutting activities short ruining experiences, reducing exploration, or skipping concepts to name a few. The uninterrupted free mind that can take the time to obsess and wander and pursue imaginative ideas really makes all the difference to a creative (not just creative but generative) individual. I now wonder how I can structure my classroom to have more of this uninterrupted free time where they can pursue what interests them in mathematics, then choose how they wish to represent it... perhaps in more of a Montessori style such that students may have agency to explore several concepts all at once and spend the most time on what is most challenging to them.
My fourth stop came from Clare Moriarty on Semiotics, Ease and Elegance: Oliver Byrne's Elements of Euclid. Moriarty drove home the fact that Byrne was obsessed with accessibility of mathematics trying to build in many ways/systems for understanding and accessing knowledge. Byrne therefore used red, yellow, blue and black in his print on Elements of Euclid freeing up mental space for geometrical reasoning by rendering each shape/angle/object/ etc in colour, then referencing it in colour during the proofs. This connects deeply with me as a math educator and - before that - a tutor trying to explain or draw things in ways that allowed my students to grasp the concepts. This monumental effort of printing a coloured book in the 1800s that tanked the printing company shows the kind of dedication (obsession) Byrne had in trying to make math accessible.
On the topic of making math more accessible, my fifth stop came during Gary Lester's talk on Art as Math Representation: A practice-based Investigation of Cognition and Pedagogy. Lester wanted to investigate why the notion of "I'm not a math's person" was socially acceptable leading him to develop an art-based sculptural approach with embedded mathematical concepts as a way to invite discussion. Lester found that the same scupture presented a very different message to very different audiences with their interpretation largely reflected by the background knowledge they brought in to the experience. Lester reminded us that when teachers teach what they already know, they fail to communicate complex mathematical ideas from the viewpoint of a novice using their vocabulary and their experiences from which to scaffold. So, how can we extract a math concept's core idea and introduce them from the viewpoint of the novice? Lester finished with two more leading questions that are thought provoking: What are the differing cognitive processes taking place between experts and novices? And, can artistic forms be used as avenue for greater engagement? This becomes another point of entry towards accessibility of complex math ideas.
Quick aside: On Aug 8th (the following day) I had the pleasure of meeting up with Georgina Ryan in the art gallery as I wanted to have a discussion with her about the differences between her findings and that of Gary Lester's. Ryan has created a website called Threaded Theorems in which she shares unique self-made embroidery patterns of advanced mathematical ideas as an accessible entry point for women to become introduced and curious.
An example of Ryan's free patterns found on her website. What a curious shape this is! Why does every branch break into two? It looks like every part is a smaller and smaller part of the original! Interested? Go google "Binary Tree" and "Fractals" then combine the two in a search :)
Where Lester's findings showed that people only cognitively engage with art at the level of their background prior knowledge, separately Ryan's idea feels like a hopeful attempt to introduce and advance mathematical knowledge. These two ideas work together and become driven by curiosity. In the beginning, embroidery enthusiasts would only engage with the artistic qualities of the math ideas, but then find out more about their embroidered concepts through inquiry. I believe as long as we don't let the curious walk away and miss out on an opportunity to engage, then this could be a strong point of entry in education.
OK, back to Aug. 7th. I attended Saad Mneimneh's talk on
The Poetry of Math. This talk was a beautiful perspective shift looking at
the provocation of thought stimulated by engagement with math (and poetry). Mneimneh's main argument was that both math and poetry were very similar in that they are both imaginative, use metaphor, deal with abstraction, convey deep consequences, make statements, and even provide plot twists that can excite a reader. Mneimneh likened the Collatz conjecture (google it, it's worth it!) to the poem called "The Red Wheel Barrow" by William Carlos Williams because they were both simple, elegant, basic, unusual, and had an emerging structure without needing to be complex.
Mneimneh left off with my
sixth stop: every poem + math concept has
a certain level of engagement (similarly to the message by Lester and Ryan the following day)
that must occur for a while to be able to receive the aha! moment of realization - this is on the part of the student/receiver/witness/listener/audience. This brings me to a conversation with another poet at the conference, Britt Kaufmann, author of
Midlife Calculus, about
allowing the engagement on the position of the educator/presenter/performer/speaker:: "If you don't wait [as an educator] the students never receive their own dopamine hit from the joy of discovery, and the learning is truncated... waiting is so hard when you have an agenda."
A seventh stop came when Mneimneh mentioned teaching math without being creative with it is like learning the alphabet but never being allowed to write any words. Ryan furthered this analogy by saying (paraphrased) that you finish your alphabet in grade 1, then for the rest of your life you practice generating more and more complex ideas with this alphabet for the rest of your life... whereas, in mathematics, you don't stop learning the alphabet until you become an undergraduate in university... so the earlier you can shift between being a consumer of mathematics towards being a creator, the faster we will be able to see its place in our life.
The last talk I attend that day was Susan Gerofsky's
Artists Re-storying their Relationship with Math and Art. The participants of Susan's project have all experienced shame, fear, embarrassment and trauma from negative experiences in math class. Through this process of re-storying their relationship with math through embodied means, they have given themselves an opportunity to recognizing and maybe even acknowledging and utilizing mathematics in their lives and artwork. I found Gerofsky's inquiry question to be quite related to Lester's: "How do we break this intergenerational transmission of trauma?" The individuals affected by these negative experiences develop an aversion to math and claim to not be math people. My
eighth stop came during her retelling of participant Carole's journey. Carole was a ceramics artist who said that the creation of a mug 24 times isn't creative but creating. It's not
generative. This shift in vocabulary for me was interesting because in my classroom I always ask my students to be "creative" when doing their math projects... but perhaps, I need to re-specify that just the act of putting math somewhere other than paper is not enough, but they need to generate something with it.
Our experiences in life are limited by our vocabulary to express them.

Euler's Vision by Tom Petsinis
A dramatic reading by Susan Gerofsky (e), Kristie McClellan (i), Eveline Pye (pi), Oliver Podwysocki (+), Jim Wolper (1), Lisa Lajeunesse (=), Britt Kaufmann (0), and Tom Petsinis (Euler)
The two groups of symbols fighting over zero.

I was invited to participate in the Math + Art Fashion Show in the evening. Here is me wearing a raindow truchet tile t-shirt created by electrical engineer/fibre artist Amy Wendt (seen over my left shoulder) sporting another arrangement of the same truchet tiles on her t-shirt! It was a wonderful experience.
References:
Alznauer, A. (2026) Lunar Music, Lost Notebooks, Pentagons, and Paralysis: How the Hidden Stories of Amateurs – of Those Who Love – Offer Vital Counsel to Both Mathematicians and Artists. Proceedings of Bridges 2026: Mathematics and the Arts. 3-3.
Gerofsky, S., Nicol, C., Li, Z., Leung, A., and Omonade, C. (2026) Artists Re-Storying Their Relationship with Math and Art. Proceedings of Bridges 2026: Mathematics and the Arts. 427–434.
Lester, G. (2026) Art as Mathematical Representation: A Practice-Based Investigation of Cognition and Pedagogy. Proceedings of Bridges 2026: Mathematics and the Arts. 553–556.
Moriarty, C. M. (2026) Semiotics, Ease, and Elegance: Oliver Byrne’s Elements of Euclid. Proceedings of Bridges 2026: Mathematics and the Arts. 1–1
Mneimneh, S. (2026) The Poetry of Math. Proceedings of Bridges 2026: Mathematics and the Arts. 419–426.
Ryan, G. (2026) Threaded Theorems: Hand Embroidery as Mathematics Outreach. Proceedings of Bridges 2026: Mathematics and the Arts. 541–544.