ugh...sometimes i feel like i must be ten years old, take today for example---
1. the need for revenge of a giant snowball from the other day overtook me (normal, right? well the initial snowball was plummeted at me over a week and half ago and i just couldn't let it go)
2. if i feel the need to be loved, i'll ask without hesitation for a hug at the most random of moments, today i needed lots of hugs like a child who clings to his mother(actually, more people should do this, you really find out who the good hug-givers are - so for those moments for real emergency, you know who to turn to)
3. i got so excited over a brief moment of enlightenment while watching garden state that i had to pause the movie and abruptly disturb the linux geek (you told me to dish it out!) anyhow, i had to interrupt so rudely over something as simple as punctuation marks...regardless, i have now a deeper sentiment for [ ellipses ] [she smiles]
4. and when i didn't feel like being around people anymore, i fled to my room (my little fort in this world) and curled up in my sheets, just like when i was a kid and would be afraid there were hands ready to grab my feet when i got into bed...i used to turn off the light and run as fast as i could and jump into bed a good 3 feet away, quickly grab the sheets, pull them tightly over my head, and squeal like a little girl...fyi, i did not run to my bed and squeal today...but sometimes there is that urge

what else did i do today so childlike? well, for the most part i was an intelligible girl, going around giving desk crits and spurring conversation.

[pause - caught up in thoughts]

sometimes it is good to remember the things which we did when we were small...i am afraid of the day when i won't remember anymore. there are too many things that i feel i have forgotten already that were crucial in molding the person i am as of now. last week in theory seminar, we were discussing how at one point the human mind was thought to be composed of 3 ventricles. the forward most ventricle, by your forehead was thought to compartmentalize the active and passive senses (sense, touch, taste, smell, etc.) with this ventricle, our senses filtered our experience and direct relationships to the world and our processing of it. um...the second ventricle i cannot recall at this moment its specific purpose, but in many, many renditions of images portraying the 3 ventricle brain a door is depicted between the third ventricle (which was where memories are stored, at the back of the head). the door was thought to fall open and memories would flow to the front ventricle, recalling all the senses associated. this would explain the phenomenon that when people are trying to remember things, they tilt their heads down and forward, it allows the memories to fall more quickly to the forefront of their mind. writing this at this moment makes me conscious that i am half-lying back in bed, pillow propped up but my head tilted back...keeping my memories locked behind the door...mental note to self: remember this position, for there are some days when remembering is too difficult to bear.

future reference for this info (there are more but one for now) - "The Soul & Its Mechanism" written by Alice Bailey

other design notes-

confined - guided - free

[ ideas of transformations ]

second day in a row when i've slept in till after 12...i peered outside and there is a new layer of white on the ground and the snowflakes are continuing to fall. sigh...makes me not want to walk to school but rather stay inside and be a house bum.

i was asked the other day how i can separate the movement of the body into such specific categories-one being free, the other's confined and guided. it was raised that how can anything be free as there is always something, even the physical body itself that is placing restrictions on it's movement. i suppose this is true...i've begun to design my "architectural design drawing tool"---of which i will become a vicitim to very soon. (the outcome of the project will be determined by the lines that my tool can allow/prohibit me to draw) but i realize even thru careful looking at the free body diagram, i need to make some decisions about what exactly free, guided, and confined mean. even free body diagrams portray the impact of outside forces regardless of it being isolated. some quick reference images when the words "free body diagram" are searched for---i've sifted thru to look at ones that already have an influence in the direction i am headed.

doodle during coffee by the waterfront this morning...freezing rain falling down...dreaming of warmer places

a little note for an extremely unproductive day...but who says productivity is only in working...sometimes there are those days when it is more beneficial to sit on a couch, everyone huddled together and watch movie after movie after movie for hours on end...sigh...what a relaxing night...but now i am cursed by the many sleepless nights i've had in a row. the day which i have plenty of time to sleep, i am not tired...irony comes in many forms...

something else to add to the reading list - [ Ranier Maria Rilke: Letters To A Young Poet ]

just realized that i have failed to put any of my portfolio links on the newly revised template...i better put the code links here until i have time to decide where i shall put them in the template. they might get lost otherwise...speaking of updating...all these pdfs need to get updated as well...haven't even thought of doing that since i quit work, should probably get some images of the finished work.

:: cold war memorial
:: dance institute
:: levinas residence
:: bnai shalom chapel
:: cohen residence
:: thesis images
:: thekla graphix
:: resume

it's been awhile since i've looked at the renderings of [ The Gates ] - they are amazingly beautiful. i cannot wait for the time to pass to see the renderings as reality. till then i'm still trying to diagram out my program for my project this semester... and the relationships between the free/guided/confined body & how the real/interpreted can be made architecture...as well as now a new stone has been thrown into the loop...the architectural drawing tools that i must relate...long night for jenn ahead...eeesh..pin-up on friday---must draw/construct in the mind's eye.

the other day i posted something of my excitement for next fall in montreal...some unknown left a message/comment stating "stay...don't go" - i have an idea who this may be...perhaps my latvian princess? i don't know and am not sure...but it began me thinking (in between projects and readings right now) about the ties that bind us to one another and the strength of such ties. i have heard myself in conversation after another these past weeks saying that friendship is not based on proximity. neither is it really based on time...i hold dear to me friends that are thousands of miles away, and when i see them it is as though time never passed since the last time we met. also there are those people we meet and in one instant it is as though we have known them our whole lives. these are the friends that are rare and essential. neither time/place...

ugh...i need to get back into the flow of school. i think that i have probably consumed some sort of alcoholic beverage every day since i returned from california - on varying degrees of consumption, mind you, but nonetheless...but last night was matty-matt's birthday, so we had to go out and have at least one beer...anyhow, i shall suffer today, since i had to return and finish my readings for today's discussion. i hate watching the sun come up...

[ retour a vega ] - the favourite song of the week...the video even lives up to expectation...i was afraid to watch it at first thinking it would ruin the whole thing for me...i was wrong. late...must read...and read some more.

a game of beer pong anyone?


me with my game face...the victory lift...celebration...(stay tuned for more fun shots still to come)

songlist to keep my day happy--->
:: retour a vega - the stills
:: are you threatening me? - hagans
:: a fabula - lemongrass
:: butterflies & hurricanes - muse
:: it could be sweet - portishead
:: california - phantom planet
:: gleaming auction - snow patrol
:: your lucky day in hell - eels
:: fade into you - mazzy star
:: ocean breathes salty - modest mouse
:: recreation - lemongrass
:: glory box - portishead



so excited about my secret find for the day! a free trial subscription to the montreal based magazine [ maisonneuve :: eclectic curiosity ]-- yeah! suppose i am getting excited about the montreal music scene and the knowledge in just a few months i will be partaking of it. anyhow, i was intrigued by the letter as it was filled with so many compliments within the first few sentences--heh heh--it begins as such:

Dear Friends,

Maisonneuve is growing in an absurdly rapid manner and we’d like you to grow with us (metaphorically).

In case you don’t know, Maisonneuve Magazine is a Montreal-based general-interest glossy aimed at the clever, curious and unashamedly literate. By general-interest we mean that we are, in fact, interested in everything. We print reviews of the newest books, essays on politics and culture, and features that bring you the latest on life, love, God and Guy Maddin. Within just the last few issues you’ll find Bernard-Henri Lévy’s reconstruction of the killing of Daniel Pearl, Keith Hollihan's revealing inside look at Trump's Apprentice, Maude Arsenault’s hot fall fashion fold-out and Matthew Fox's hilarious interview with Margaret Atwood. This, we feel, is all very exciting stuff.

We’ve published some of these articles, in hopelessly inadequate HTML, on the website you're looking at now. Please click around. Enjoy the stylish prose, admire the breathtaking visuals and ask yourself: “Will the complete paper version of this magazine make me happy? Will it make me a better person? Will reading a copy of Maisonneuve while drinking a gin and tonic make me look ‘urbane’?”

We’re confident that it will.

organized a field trip into dc to [ utrect ] this afternoon...ugh-thinking about the trip on the metro will be nice but sometimes i wish i had a car...okay, it's shower and wake up time now...my mind is much more clear than yesterday...today is going to be a good day, i am convinced.

pics of the kennedy center from days of yester-year

As I was informed of my misanthropic behavior this evening, I walked home to my 12 by 12 foot refuge of flannel sheets, multiple pillows and down comforters to be alone. I am tired these past days, not mentally because of school, nor of any physical exertion. I feel drained due to the emotionally taxing situations that present themselves to me without my asking. I question whether I allow these individuals to take advantage of my congenial and understanding self, if I am offering my experience obtained knowledge for too cheap a price...it is a rare treat in the day when I am challenged for these are the only moments when I feel my emotional batteries getting recharged. (sigh) Anyhow, I was readin through Oscar Pessoa's "Book of Disquiet" - the book of choice at the moment for the calming of my soul. Funny how today's few pages refer to the escape into the written word...and even addresses the "petty" annoyances of spelling errors...i should not let such minimal things get in the way...need to work on that. I put the passage from this evening here, thought quite long, for future remembering why words are my own personal escape...(warning: there will be typos - as i am tired and have no desire to proofread right now...for this i apologize to all...)


the first real snow...


"I envy the people - well, i don't know if I actually envy them - whose biographies are written or who write their own. In these disconnected impressions, which I deliberately leave disconnected, I shall narrate my autobiography in an indifferent sort of way, without facts; my history without life. These are my Confessions, and if I don't say anything in them, it's because I really have nothing to say.

'What does it matter that someone confesses his worthiness or that he serves some useful purpose? What happens to us either happens to everyone or only to us: in the first instance it's banal; in the second it's incomprehensible. By writing what I feel, I can cool the febrile sensibility of mine. What I confess is unimportant, because nothing is important. I compose landscapes out of what I feel. I compose carnivals of sensations. I completely understand women who embroider out of grief or knit because life exists. My old aunt used to play solitaire during the course of infinite family gatherings. These confessions of feeling are my solitaires. I don't read them, the way people read cards to know the future. I don't put a stethescope to them, because in solitaire the cards don't really have any value. I unravel like a multicolored skein, or I make yarn figures out of myself that are like the ones braided by tense hands and passed from one child to another. I just take care that my thumb doesn't miss making the final knot. Later I turn my hand over and the image changes. And I start over.

'Living is knitting according to the intentions of others. But as we do it, out thoughts are free and all the enchanted princes can stroll through their parks between the instants when the hooked ivory needle sinks into the yarn. I crochet things...I digress...Nothing...

'In any case, what can I count on about myself? A horrible perspicacity about my sensations and the profoun awareness of the fact that I am feeling...An acute intelligence as regards destroying myself and a power to dream that is eager to amuse me...A dead will and a capacity for reflection that dandles as if it were a living child...Yes, crocheting...

'As an artistic modality, I prefer prose to verse for two reasons. The first, my own personal reason, is that I really have no choice, because I can't write verse. The second is common to all of us, and is not - I firmly believe - a shadow or disguised version of the first. It's worthwhile going into the difference between verse and prose in detail because it's related to the intimate sense of all calue in art.

'I consider verse an intermediate thing, a passage from music to prose. Like music, verse is limited by rhythmic laws that, even if they are not the rigid laws of metrics, exist nevertheless as decorum and constraint - automatic precepts that oppress and punish. In prose we speak freely. We can include musical rhythms and still think. We can include poetic rhytms and still be outside them. An occassional poetic rhythm does not disrupt prose; an occassional prose rhythm makes verse stumble.

'All art is contained in prose - in part because the whole world is constrained in language, in part because words set free contain all possibilities for expression and thought. In prose we give everything by transposition: the colors and forms painting can only give directly, in itself, without formal body, without that second body that is an idea; without the structure the architect has to form from hard, given, external things that we erect out of rhythm, indecision, duration, and fluidity; without the reality, which the sculptor must leave in the world, without any aura or transubstantiation; without, finally, poetry in which the poet, like an initiate in a secret society, is subject, albeit voluntarily subject, to an order and a ritual...

'Everything is connected. Reading the classics, which do not talk about sunsets, has made many sunsets, in all their colors, intelligible to me. There is a relationship between syntactic competency, by which we can tell the worth of people, and the sounds and forms and the capacity to understand when the blue of the sky is really green and what degree of yellow exists in the blue green of the sky.

'In reality, it's the same thing - the ability to distinguis and to make subtle distinctions. Without syntax there is no lasting emotion. Immortality is a creation of grammarians.

'I like talking. Better put: I love to palavar. Words for me are palpable bodies, visible sirens, sensualities made flesh. Perhaps because real sensuality has no interest for me of any kind - not even mental or oneiric - my desire metamorphosed into something within me that creates verbal rhythms or listens to them in others. I tremble if people speak well. Pages in Fiahlo or Chateaubriand make my entire life boil in my veins, make me rave in a tremulously quiet way because of an unreachable pleasure I'm experiencing. A certain page, even in the cold perfection of Vieira's syntactic engineering, make me shake like a branch in the wind, in the passive delirium of a thing moved.

'Like all great enthusiasts, I love the delight of losing myself, in which I suffer the pleasure of giving myself over totally. And so, many times, I write without wanting to think, in external daydreaming, allowing the words to play around me, as if I were a little girl hanging on their necks. They are sentences without meaning, softly flowing, in a fluidity of felt water, a forgetting oneself on the shore where the waves mix and lose definition, always becoming others, succeeding each other. In the same way, ideas, images, tremulous with expression, pass through me in sonorous corteges like silk dyed in varied shades, where the moonlight of ideas spins, whirling and confused.

'I weep for nothing that life brings nor takes away. Nevertheless, there are pages of prose that have made me weep. I remember, as if I were seeing it now, the night in which, when I was small, I read for the first time and anthology that celebrated passage of Vieira's about King Solomon, "Erected then King Solomon a palace..." And I went on reading to the end, trembling and confused. Then I burst into happy tears, in a way no real happiness had ever made me weep, the way no sadness in life will ever force me to imitate. That hieratic movement of our clear, majestic language, that expression of ideas in inevitable words, like water flowing downhill, that vocalic astonishment in which the sounds are ideal colors - all that overwhelmed me like a grand political emotion. And as I said, I wept. Today, remembering, I weep again. It isn't - it really isn't - nostalgia for childhood, for which I have no nostalgia: it is nostalgia for the emotion of that moment, the grief of not being able to read that great symphonic certainty again for the first time.

'I have no political or social feelings. But in a certain sense I do have a highly patriotic feeling. My country is the Portugese language. It wouldn't bother me if Portugal were invaded or conquered, unless I were personally incommoded. But I hate, with true hatred, with the only hatred I feel, not those who write Portugese badly, not those who are ignorant of syntax, not those who spell phonetically, but the badly written page, as if it were a living person. I hate incorrect syntax as if it were a person to beat, incorrect spelling as if it were phlegm spit at me, independently of the person who spit it.

'Yes, because spelling is people. Words are complete when both seen and heard...

'Even though my soul belongs to the language of the Romantics, I can only find tranquility reading the classics. Their very narrowness, through which their clarity is expressed, comforts me in ways I can't understand. I gather from them the happy impression of a long life that contemplates wide spaces without exploring them. The pagan gods themseleves take a rest from mystery.

'Our officious analysis of sensations (at least of the sensations we are supposed to have) - the identification of the heart with the landscape, the anatomical revelation of all our moods, the use of desire as will and aspiration as thought - all these things are too familiar to me to seem novel in someone else or to confer tranquility on me. Whenever I feel them, I wish - exactly because I am feeling them - to be feeling something else. And when I read a classic, that something else is given to me.

'I confess it without hiding it or feeling shame. There is no passage in Chateaubriand or poem by Lamartine - texts that on so many occasions seem to speak my own thoughts, poems that so often seem spoken to me so I can know - that enraptures me or raises me up like a prose passage from Vieira or one or another ode by those of our classic authors who really followed Horace.

'I read and am liberated. I acquire objectivity. I stop being myself and disperse. And what I read, instead of being likfe on of my suits, which I barely notice and which would annoy me id I did, is the great cliarity of the external world, the sun everyone sees, the moon that beats the quiet earth with shadows, the long spaces that end up in the sea, the black solidity of trees nodding their green crowns, the solid peace of ponds on estates, paths overgrown with vines on low hills.

'I read the wasy one might abdicate. And like the royal crown and mantle, which are never as huge as when the king who departs leaves them on the floor, I pile my triumphs on top of tedium, sleep on the mosiacs in the antechambers, and ascend the staircase with the unique nobility of vision.

'I read the way one might stroll. And it is in the classics, the calm ones, those which if they suffer do not say so, that I feel myself to be a sacred trespasser, an anointed pilgrim, who for the reason contemplates the meaningless world, Prince of the Grand Exile, who, as he departed, gave the last beggar the final offering of his desolation."

-O. Pessoa ["Book of Disquiet" - sections 4-8]

okay...it's late but i just wanted to check and see if my new template works when i post. just spent the last 4-1/2 hours modifying the codes to transfer info from one to the other...not only that, there were some strange column layout modifications and uploads i had to make. i hope it works...the old layout was getting tiresome to me. i also changed the purpose of the blog on the right---click on the image and you will be able to read it up close and personal. [ y a w n ]

dressed up for the first day of school...joe called it my schoolgirl outfit, the knee length brown tweed skirt, white with tiny black strips long sleeve button up with mohair high neck vest over top and to top it all off, the knee high "f--- me" black leather boots. tall matt, met my challenge and dressed up for the first day of school also. gotta make a good first impression on all the new foreign students, right? or as bianca said that i thought was hilarious, "fresh meat" --- lol, i wasn't thinking this at all...but i suppose in many respects, it is always nice to make an impressive first impression...

classes that i have lined up for the up and coming semester as follows ---
*mirror of drafting
*leanings & gleanings
*media & environmental workshop : photography
*phD seminar
*exercises in seeing

time to sleep now... (btw---i never knew, or have a vague memory that these (...) were called ellipses.) i should know what they are called since i make such frequent use of them...make mental note to self...

this image is from a recently discovered site entitled [ toothpaste for dinner ]. anyhow it is much related to the origin of my smile this evening...the idea of getting excited about stupid little things and the record of them...here lies the purpose of my smile [ a quote from nietzsche ].

[ H i - R e S ! ] 2005

this is the site of...well, i guess it was yesterday. i was led to this special find quite on an unexpected evening. anyhow, check out the video in the lower right hand corner --- it is amazing! everything done in here was created in flash...if only i could be so talented.

on other notes, i cannot wait for my head to hit the pillow. suddenly i feel completely drained. perhaps it was the extensive, and in depth conversation of the last hour and a half...perhaps it was the talk with kuya over multiple beers just prior to that...perhaps it was the long walk in the cold by myself this afternoon...or maybe even the brunchtime comversation that was heavy and deep...it could also be attributed to the out-and-about evening till 4:30 in the a.m. last night.

too much talking, too much thinking, i am feeling quite like the over-boiled vegetable right now. i could use some cheering up as it has been one of those days...i know tomorrow is the first day of official school and will need the energy to endure the "catch-up time."

(long sigh)

i convinced everyone to dress up since it was officially the first day of school...i was coerced into promising that i would wear a dress/skirt...mental note to self - better bring camera to take pictures because you know it only goes downhill every consecutive day as the semester goes on...

(so tired jenn hates going to sleep with a heavy mind...time to listen some lemongrass and relax under the warmth of the blankets...)

well, this evening did not turn out quite as planned---quite the opposite in fact. i was not supposed to be home at this time...nor was i supposed to be quite as sober. i'm not complaining...it was just different and much more relaxed than i was actually hoping. what was supposed to be a night out on the town, turned into a double feature of monty python (both the holy grail & the life of brian) in the old town theater. it was fun...even though everyone bailed out for the second movie and i had to stay with sebastian (the ultimate die hard monty python fan) for the second film (eh-hem, since i'm the only friend that cared!) it was alright. but here it is only 1 in the morning and i find myself dying of hunger...(jenn runs to the kitchen to heat up leftovers from her earlier meal)...

...yummy.

a pretty uneventful day. tomorrow hoping to go to see the don flavin exhibit at the national gallery of art. the weather is playing with my mind and i don't like it...last night i finally fell asleep with my window open and the warm breeze of 68 degrees blowing in. at 5:42 in the morning though i was rudely woken from my slumber to raindrops crashing down and making puddles on the floor and on my books in the windowsill. (sigh...if you know me well, my books are some of my most prized possessions) anyhow, i had to pull myself from the warmth of my dreams and slam the windows shut...and just like that the 68 degrees was gone...last i checked it was 34 feeling like 25 with windchill...california girls were not made for such harshness.

sidenote 1: i've been thinking of redesigning the website but am fearful this may take up too much valuable time. sigh...ok, well i'm just going do some reading now.

sidenote 2: i got all excited and giddy about my miniature usb 20gb drive---that was until i was shown up by epoxy who just got a 250gb external hard drive---bummer.

sidenote 3: i have a desire to make blueberry pancakes tomorrow morning for breakfast...pancakes, fresh fruit and coffee anyone?

sidenote 4: bon-bon postcard mailed to laurie. bvd card mailed to andrew. i can feel the old jenn beginning to re-emerge. yes, these last few months have allowed my arms to outstretch and breath, a chance to rediscover me (a blessing many individuals are not given). and on that final note, i am reminded of a series of collages that i did years back. they were actual copies of window mullions details, where the collaged in pieces revealed a rediscovery of certain aspects related to the project at the time...where are those pictures?

section 4

section 3

section 2

section 1

things for me to read:

[ B o d y A r c h i t e c t u r e i n A - m a t t e r ]
[ T h e B o d y a n d C h o r e o g r a p h e d S p a c e ]
[ M e m o r y / B o d y / E v o c a t i o n 2 ]
[ A r c h i t e c t u r e o f t h e B o d y : C o s m e t i c S u r g e r y a n d P o s t m o d e r n S p a c e ]

[ J o r g e P a r d o S c u l p t u r e ]
[ H u m a n A n a t o m y O n l i n e ]

( s i g h ) how could i miss this already?

well, back in town & amazingly it's not cold. now suffering from insomnia due to california time adjustment. nice to see my room and walk the streets of alexandria, the christmas lights are still hanging on the sidewalk trees, which was cheery. nice to see and talk with familiar faces...much more inviting than the task of unpacking suitcases and sorting through 3-1/2 weeks of bills. transferred to the sketchbook via cut-n-paste method the stream of thoughts/drawings/scribbles i had produced during my sketchbook's short vacation. was reminded of the up & very near approaching christo event. amazing how one can think of it for months and months and tell everyone to go see it, and then forget themselves just a few weeks shy of the actual happening.

(pause)

sorry, just got excited while unpacking my new paper supplies that i spoiled myself with while in california. going to try a new method of representation this semester. so many things to do --

(notes for jenn to remember)
1. must finish writing self-initiated-studio-project-statement complete with sketches and guidelines
2. buy supplies in prep for semester long sessions in the dark-room (so excited i'm going to finally know how to develop film) btw...must decide theme for photos...want to incorporate a series of words inconjunction with photos
3. inspect watercolour brushes and supplies....think i'm running low on favourite okra yellow colour
4. frame your rhizome/automata drawing and hang above bed
5. find copy of "1000 plateaus" g.deleuze & read as well as other brian massumi material...oh yeah, must look into "theory out of bounds series"
6. start looking into housing in montreal as well as begin thinking about other practical issues of going to mcgill next fall
7. write cosmological framework paper
8. contact metal/wood fabricator for production of coffee table series
9. contact old boss about creating life-size plywood plates for sculpted end of bookcase, also, get pics of his "dwell" house that u worked on for your portfolio
10. update portfolio
11. consider ideas for design slam competition
12. stop list now before you freak yourself out and have mental breakdown before semester even begins

bART tiles straight on, from the side, and in motion --- looking up at sfMOMA

"if a man begins with certainties, he shall end in doubts; but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties." -francis bacon (the advancement of learning)

the motto for the coming semester. working on a list of experiments to tackle in studio in the up and coming months. spent the day at sfMOMA with mom and spents hours with her browsing & coveting books at [ w i l l i a m s t o u t ]. a wonderful afternoon, even though now my brain is tired and worn from explaining all who and what great things all the architects/artists lives were like to her. so happy i was to see a room full of original paul klee lithographs. is it possible to fall in love with someone based on their work alone?

ok, so somehow i got on this colour related kick and ended up taking the [ c o l o r q u i z ]. here are the results as follows, heh heh heh:

Your Existing Situation
-Working to improve her image in the eyes of others so as to obtain their compliance and agreement with her needs and wishes.

Your Stress Sources
-Wishes to be independent, unhampered, and free from any limitation or restriction, other than those which she imposes of herself or by her own choice and decision.

Your Restrained Characteristics
-Feels trapped in a distressing or uncomfortable situation and seeking some way of gaining relief. Able to achieve satisfaction from sexual activity. Clings to her belief that her hopes and ideas are realistic, but needs encouragement and reassurance. Applies very exacting standards to her choice of a partner and wants guarantees against loss or disappointment.

Your Desired Objective
-Needs release from stress. Longs for peace, tranquillity, and contentment.

Your Actual Problem
-Does not wish to be involved in differences of opinion, contention or argument, preferring to be left in peace.

i was browsing back through some really old entries here and stumbled upon this page that i had linked long ago. been thinking about the words melancholy and why i have always associated the colour indigo with this feeling. violet being my favourite colour, even though i never wear it. melancholy being my mood of choice also most often. anyhow, towards the bottom of the web page there is a description of your colour and how this could be linked to personality traits. normally i do not believe in these kinds of things, however, when something strikes home in my heart, it is hard to ignore. what colour are you and does it pertain? or is it merely a coincidence that the description for violet seems to fit me like glove to hand?

why these thoughts of purple suddenly? i dreamt last night/early this morning, of waking up in a lavender field much like the pic at the top. i don't dream normally, and so this was an unexpected surprise. if i do dream though, it is usually difficult for me to remember, so another unexpected surprise. i was so blissful and carefree...a little different than my typical dark, introspective, & slightly pessimistic self. how nice would it be to fall asleep and then wake up in the middle of a field of wild beauty, the sun's warmth just barely penetrating your skin? perhaps the dreamer in me...but you must admit, the sound of it just lends itself to a sigh of relaxation. ok, enough dreaming jenn...the coldness awaits you.

[ c o l o u r & p e r s o n a l i t y ] i am violet--> A combination of red and blue, violet “attempts to unify the impulsive conquest of red and the gentler surrender of blue, becoming representative of “identification”.” Purples are mystical, suggesting sensitive intimacy, union, enchantment, the blurring of thought, desire and reality. Violet represents a longing for wishes to be fulfilled and a desire to charm others.

"Violet can mean identification as an intimate, erotic blending, or it can lead to an intuitive and sensitive understanding."

Because it is so strongly associated with the idea of the world as a magical place and the need for wish-fulfillment, a preference for violet can communicate some degree of vulnerability or insecurity, perhaps a need for approval.

night time by a random pool. is it warm or is it cold?

still no sketchbook...crap.

so i have decided that this next semester i'm going to create a blog to record my progress while in grad school. i've been doing much research these last few days and feel a more substantial direction for which my thesis to sprout from. there is a pattern in my work from last semester and i feel the necessity to document this patterning in order to discover my own potential. anyhow, here will lie the link to my new space ---

www.littleonedraws.blogspot.com

--- mark it for your future reference. there is not much there right now. just a picture of some cellular automaton diagram section that i was working on...i will try to post more once i get back to my studio and my drawings...4 more days and counting...

oh...to get a sample of what my new blog will look like, you can check out the page i put together for the weeklong "cold war memorial" i worked on with marian, my inter-continental partner in germany & brandon, my landscape counterpart... if i remember correctly, it's home is at www.inbetweenspace.blogspot.com

code red alert: i think i'm going to die...i've lost my sketchbook and don't have any clue where i have left it. my heart is beating rapidly and it feels like i have misplaced an extremely vital internal organ. where are you, my beloved, please come back to me soon so i can breathe normal again...

so this is what the last 2 days have looked like for me. a myriad of wires and feeling electrical shocks numb my fingertips. anyhow, the job is finally finished and father, brother, and i very happy. i don't know how we always get into these situations, i guess one of the perks of being the daughter of mr. ultimate-i-can-fix/do-anything-dad. lol. it is good. and though my dad said he wouldn't do the job without vaughn or i, brother and i were motivated by the necessity to make money...afterall tuition is coming up quickly and my savings is dwindling just as quickly.

i'm getting antsy at home though. tomorrow i am going into san francisco to wander and have some alone time. i'm hoping that late evening i can meet up with some friends, but really it is not that important whether that happens or not. i need some alone time, and i miss the city so. cannot even compare with dc's grey dreariness of late. i am not looking forward to the process that it takes just to walk outside and go on one's daily business....typically here is how it goes-

-put on sweater
-put on jacket
-put on gloves
-put on scarf
-wrap scarf around for extra measure
-put on hat (even though my fave hat is now missing!!)
-waddle to metro
-get on metro
-unbutton jacket
-unwrap scarf
-take off gloves
-take off hat
-get ready to get off metro
-put on hat
-put on scarf
-etc.

and so the process goes back and forth, back and forth between inside and outside throughout the day. eesh, definitely not looking forward to that. however, i am looking forward to my down comfortered bed, and my coffee shop and my walk to school, and my routine. i miss being master of my universe, for i often feel like i am just an accessory here at home.

she-ra, here i come...only 5 days more and counting down!

spent the afternoon in j-town...er, i mean little tokyo...er, i mean japantown. (gosh darnit john and david for confusing me now!) anyhow, went to go look at cool packaging & be amazed at how many different car lights you can actually buy for a car. ended up in downtown by union square, amazed at how the scenery looked very much like fei's pictures from new york. sax fifth ave had the same larger than life lit stars hung outside the building, for a sec i thought i was just refreshing the coputer screen from last night when i was searching friends' blogs. (omg--i'm such a computer dork...)

anyhow, ended up finding my winter puffer jacket. it is a shimmery green and nearly as long as i am tall. sooo kewl. my brother calls me a walking sea cucumber...and then proceeded to call me shredder from the one and only teenage mutant ninja turtles.

i am getting a little bored at home. ready to get back to my bed and my routine. although i've enjoyed the stay at home, it seems at times like a big tease, knowing that i am not here to stay for long. but everyone asks me how grad school is treating me, and i realize how well it suits me. at the office party, everyone told me that i looked much healthier and more "glow-y". i must admit that it is an encouragement to hear such things, and though my motivation for school comes within myself, observations like these help in the long journey that still lies ahead.

i am still pondering my paper. it is difficult to imagine writing "my cosmological framework for how i wish to approach architecture for the remainder of my life." what exactly does this mean, you say? what does cosmology mean? essentially the way that i have defined it is as follows: imagine you are the sun...what kinds of planets are in my universe, and what rules of gravity are being observed which govern my solar system and orbit. in other words, what kinds of rules am i setting for myself that will decide what type of architecture i produce. i know...not easy. not easy at all. marco has given me until i go to mcgill university in montreal to finish it. he understands the great desire i have to decide these things for myself and he comprehends my deeply rooted passion for discovering my path, my architecture, my life...it is important.

text messages written in semi-coded language makes a rainy lazy dull day instantaneously turn happy and smiley. kindred spirits are hard to find in this world and when they are, it is important to let them know they are rare in this world.

this new year's eve made a definite ranking in my list of nye's. (pondering carefully) thanks to food, friends, and fun i will be beaming for days on end...or at least jan 12 comes around and the realization of school finally hits.

i was hit with call after email after call after email today. a return for all the spontaneously, semi-drunken phone calls i made on the eve of 2005. i just wanted to share with all the immensity my celebration and freedom from 2004. new beginnings allow freedom from the restraints of the past.

new year's resolutions, anyone?

the concert hall





the cathedral

**the 44 hour trip to LAX and back**

the story begins on a friday…

4:41 am eyes open in bed and roll over to see that the cell phone has not rung at 3:45 as planned! omg-i have 5 minutes to meet david ko at the airport! thank goodness that i can take a super quick shower, throw some clothes on, forget temporarily about the make-up and wake my brother up in time to rush! rush! rush!

5:10 am arrive at san francisco airport completely flustered, but extremely happy to see dko whom i haven't seen for 2 years (the travelling boy who made adventures in chicago and toronto only now to return to our most beloved city)

6:14 am after passing through major security checks and pat downs, my ever so efficiently packed backpack is now lopsided and nicely folded clothes doomed for wrinkledom but we are on the plane and feeling that it is still the night before yet see glimpses of the sunrise...yucky and weird feeling seeing the sunrise (sunrise reminds me of those many all-nighters from a past life)

7:30 am arrive at LAX international, attempt to go see the iconic equinox restaurant...but lo and behold at 7:30 in the morning, the bar is closed- go figure...we have no choice but to wake up our beloved friends (john & erik) and get picked up for breakfast at swingers...

10:30 am coffee time at "the bean" where i noticed that everyone who walked in the door was directly drawn to our random conversations....could it be john and his animated-ness? or was it merely the magical aura that appears when old friends come together and the happiness of sharing experiences and stories flows so comfortably once more?

11:00 am third street stroll, removal of ourselves from the archi-bookstore due to our pursuant and ever-increasing-in-decibel conversation, tour of pugh-scarpa solar housing

2:00 pm time to eat again, this time at philippe's for a double dip sandwhich (yummy!)

4:00 pm stinky erik so-lame had to stop had his home for shower time and get himself party ready + we met the remaining additions of our road trip to san diego crew (new eric and jeremy or as julissa later entitled mr. billabong)

5:30 pm we be outta LAX and san diego bound. 2 car loads (john, eric a, and dko in one car) & (erik so-lame, new eric, mr. billabong, and me in the other). after 2 hours of drama-talk, the little circle of confessions had to come to an end. therapy session was interrupted with a "uhhh....have we gone to far?? we are about to cross the border in tijuana...uh-oh"

7:30 pm a few wrong turns and the careful navigation of 4 heads put together, we arrive at sarah's...the party is about to begin---introductions, a stop at the liquer store, a champagne run, and more mingle time follow arrival

11:45 pm prep for midnite celebration....we move the party to the street for a hopeful yet essentially hopeless view of the fireworks

12:30 am um...i think we missed the countdown...oh well, champagne bottles are popped and the celebration continues. phone call galore as we all call EVERYONE we know and are happy!!! EVERYONE is happy and playing musical chairs with the cell phones....

2:00 am new year's holiday festivies continues...dancing, a little closer mingling, camera flashes galore, everyone so happy!

4:00 am and now the craziness begins...everyone getting tired and sobering up. now for the long and torturous drive back to LAX. erik s doing well while everyone sleeps in car...but i wake up and catch him drifiting a bit. i ensue in asking him question afeter stupid question to keep him talking and his mind pre-occupied. worriment creeps into my mind as i think of john and his car load of peoples. so i try cell #1 - no answer. ok cell #2 - no answer. try again. try again. um....what if my friends just all crashed an died, i think! ack! no!!!! try again! yes! a voice - they are alive!

6:30 am soooooo so so so so tired. 5 lifeless bodies creep up the stairs into an apartment full of already passed out peoples. oh wait there is one boy awake looking at me and saying "is that a chick! yeah! erik, is she single?" in complete oblivion, we all creep to any empty corner of the remaining couches - trying desperately to fall asleep. but loud-boy keeps asking more questions...finally new eric does a "shush!" which is then followed by a "i'll be quiet once the asian chick comes over here!!!" a few seconds of laughter then everyone falls into complete oblivion.

10:00 am why is it so bright! oh yes...daylight...oh yes, now i remember, when we got here the sun was just coming up. ugh---painful waking up. eric with glasses’ stomach growling was the alarm clock waking me up with a "time for breakfast" call. snug harbor fed us and finally the smiles of contentment began to creep across our faces. remember the plump little birdies on the fountain, oh-so-chirpie and playful....

12:30 pm good-bye new friends..."nice to meet you's" and hugs abound.

2:00 pm an afternoon roaming the streets of l.a. - architecture nerd style, of course. bradbury building, gehry concert hall with seams popping apart and the alabaster softness of rafael moneo's cathedral. (pics to be posted soon...)

5:00 pm time to go to the airport...dko and i wait our turn as standby passengers...one plane go bye-bye without us, two plane go bye-bye without us...ok, time to think of other alternatives...think, think, think.

12:30 am flew to sacramento, as no other options presented themselves worthy. the coolest brother in the world drives all that way to come pick us up. and then we somehow through the rain were welcomed back into the city with glittering lights and nightime dance beats...safe and sound at home...but oh-so-very-tired from the whirlwind that was the weekend. i'm still beaming from the glow.

click here for my pdf-ed xmas 2004 greeting!