the man in japan said, "images carry a lot of things even part of invisible things"...there are "Strange paths. surprises."...be "driven by emotions and sensuality."
oh dearest me, let me just skip a heartbeat and jump up and down to celebrate the wonderful joys of being a team-player...argh...*do you hear the blatant sarcasm just exuding from the pores of this page?*
what happens one has absolutely nothing to say?
i spent the day bottled up at work...speaking hardly more than 100 words in a period of 8.5 hours. the most i talked all day was when receiving a phone call from an old friend in california who just rang to tell me of a memory that was stashed in a box of his.
perhaps that is why i feel like exploding now with words and my mind is racing with thoughts...but for some reason i can't get them out. there is no one to talk to, and my blog seems like a blank face with whom i just do not feel like conversating with tonite.
so, i don't want to talk...and yet, i somehow miss the sound of my own voice.
he sat behind me me on the couch, not more than 6 feet away. he was intent on his laptop. i was intent on my blog catching-up. the yellow high-lighter, and yellow post-it caught my attention, and from the silence i wanted to say hello in a cutsie, creative way. therefore...the howdy via yellow post-it. i spun aroun in my orange chair and flashed its message his way. he smiled, and emitted a small chuckle. i spun back around, and smiled and chuckled myself.
silliness is important. it is what keeps us sane. it is what keeps us smiling. it is what keeps the mood light and free, open even. if we cannot laugh at silly noises made at otherwise inopportune times, or giggle at crunchy bone-cracking, then there exists no fun, no games. without fun or games, we would live in an extremely bleak and dull world. who says that just because we are "grown up", with "real jobs", living a "mature" life that our mouths are forbidden to crack upwards.
let the funny noises ensue and allow the bone-cracking to persist. it is these moments that i will remember fondly. in turn, it will be these memories that will make me laugh once more even when i am old and grey.
as an attempt to give myself a good creative project, plus have something to post on my website, i've decided to make a map that shows all the places i've been/lived/worked (him too)...this is the beginnings of that list...i'll need to wrack my brain to remember those childhood road/plane-trips. but i'm excited that it will give me a chance to talk with mom & dad about all the places we've traveled. it will also be a good opportunity for me to ponder all those places that i have yet to visit and explore. i'm getting that 4 month itch to get on a plane and go somewhere, to see something new...i know, i know...i've just moved to new york and that should be enough new....but i crave adventure requiring more than just a subway ride.
the internet has been down and out, just like the L train, this weekend. thus the behind, and lack of posts. in my attempt to make it up, i thought that i would take a few little snippets from my moleskine, of thoughts and notes that were profound and important to me.
this first snip, are clips of an idea that relates to making as a way of seeing. this idea has been around along time already, however, at the time of my scribbles, it was my own little revelation of how living a life of making (architecture in this instance) was directly applicable to me.
the first diagram shows this process of think-act-reflect, in a continuous circle...and it is something which can be translated into anything you are doing (making a drawing, writing a letter, preparing a grocery list). the next line in the notes: "too much reflection without action makes me nervous...the same goes for thikning"...hehe, there is so much truth to this, all three must be acting in a balance, neither one can overpower the other.
th remainder of the notes are for those who are nerds like me...there are references to filibert de l'orme's "allegory of the architect" (whose wood engraved prints are just amazing...i was lucky to see a copy of one of the first printed books while in montreal). also, a treatise i think that was entitled "fabrique"/"fabrica" where the frontispiece shows a surgeon holding an arm and in the process of anatomical studies...there is also a note how corbusier's famous sketches/concept of the open hand looks often like there is an eye within the palm itself. his drawings of the open hand, also can be seen as a closed hand. an open hand implies receiving, whereas a closed hand implies a hand of action (think of a hand which holds a tool). it could be conceived then that this hand is not one which is merely open/closed but rather a giving hand. a hand which gives is the union of the open & closed together (recall the process of making, something which created/given by its maker).
good mood...feeling productive...slept soundly till the three alarm snooze went off this morning. i woke next to him, who was still sleeping heavily, i touched his hair and kissed his cheek and stared at him for a while before finally getting out of bed to get ready for work. i have real work now at my archi-job and it feels refreshing to come in have something important to do. i've officially hit the two week mark and survived...i almost know everyone's name, and a routine has been settled into...well almost. i've been set up with my own personal phone line. they've set up architectural desktop on my computer specifically for a project i will begin working on soon. my desk is becoming full of "stuff"...redlines, trace paper, aerial photos, starbucks coffee cups. my ipod has a home, and i've finally been given a cup for my pens and pencils. all that is lacking is "my essence"...the photo that resides at everyone's cubicle that says their name + photo of their choosing. i've adjusted my chair to it's proper spot, hopefully preventing massive back pain, but it still doesn't fit quite right.
at home my finances seem to be shaping into an order of some sort. finally i'll be able to feel like a responsible adult again, able to pay my own bills, save my own money, think of that exotic vacation that i am dead set on taking next year to somewhere...*sigh*...if all goes well, i'll actually be able to afford toys & luxuries again (new camera & mani/pedi-cures, who could ask for anything more to make this little girl happy?)...ah...reminds me, i need to find taht moleskine at lunch...
i leave you with the happy song for the day, "white shadows" by coldplay. my buttercup of an ipod has been on continual shuffle these days and for some reason as this played, my mood lightened and ears perked at the lyrics...my first song to add to the beginning of a new york soundtrack. three minutes till lunchtime...
When I was a young boy I tried to listen
from "the new york times" on september 16, 2006:
"Who owns memory? Or, perhaps more pertinently, who selects memory? History, it was once said, is what countries try to remember and try to forget. But for humnity that is hardly an adequate formula. The horrors that people would like to forget...are often those that they should remember. for many individual memory is easier than collective memory. And Pierre Levi's suitcase? Well, in a sense, by fighting to secure his own memory, Mr. Levi-Leleu has reinforced the collective memory. He wants to recover his father's suitcase but, in the process, he has also drawn attention to all other suitcases...whose owners will never be known."
everyone is getting them...don't worry my little nabaztag...i will come for you someday!
isabelle, isabelle, my darling isabelle...
needy child
you scored 80 neediness! OK, so it seems like you have that needy child inside, that child that needs to feel loved and wants everybody showing him they love him/her all the time, or else he feels unwanted; that child who cries when he/she is left alone in the house, the not at all independent child... sweet huh? only that freakin' kid u've got inside is screwing any chance of getting a decent lady/guy!! but in your case this needy thing only comes out from time to time, not all the time; so my advice is sending that fucking kid to foster home and be the secure adult you are supposed to be. 
"'The only frontier we have left is the world of intangibles. Everything else is sewn up too tight'... The unreal is more powerful than the real. Because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. Because it's only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles. Wood rots. People, well, they die. But things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on. If you can change the way people think, she said. The way they see themselves. The way they see the world. If you do that, you can change the way people live their lives. And that's the only lasting thing you can create. Besides, at some point...your memories, your stories and adventures, will be the only thins you'll have left...'My goal is to be an engine of excitement in people's lives'...'My purpose is to give people glorious stories to tell.'"
*sigh*
following one link to another link to another via blog after blog, i fortuitously found a post dedicated solely to the old palast. it seems that it is bound for the land where only memories will keep it alive...demolition has begun already.
the beauty of this building was not the built entity of the palast itself, but rather the wonderful reflections of berliner dom from across the street. in reality, the domes that rest atop the baroque church are made of copper, the patina has turned to its green, but in an ugly manner that makes the church look dull and uninviting.
but in the reflection of the palast's bronze-like windows, the domed church takes on a life of its own. it becomes golden, a little mirage of heaven and not of this world where time destroys and weather copper and makes marble stain with dirt. in the relfection the building remains pristine & glorious.
i wonder if those who are tearing down the palast realize this: that in the demolition of the palast they are in fact really destroying the life of two buildings.
the images they use show the palast alone, decrepit...a ploy to hide the real wonders of the building...look closer and you might be able to have that wonderful silent conversation that i stumbled upon that day. just you and the golden domes, with the magical bronze windows as the mediator.
the death has already begun, and you can watch it here.
*siiiiiiggggh* now i can visit my own personal piece of heaven (my favourite california beach of course) whenever i want...*big happy, wonderous smiles*my boyfriend is famous.......and i am officially not. ;( the four eyed monsters used HIS picture in episode 7.6! he was soo incredibly happy...i know he was hiding it for my sake but i could see him secretly doing cartwheels inside. see if you can spot his picture yourself!
| you are 68% evil |
 You are very evil. And you're too evil to care. Those who love you probably also fear you. A lot. |
btw...i finished the book at last! woohoo! and it occurs to me that stories that are written today have no moral to them. it seems that in previous centuries, literature and the author wrote for the purpose of "having something to say"...to express some notion to the general audience that everyone "knows" but is afraid to say out loud. a friend of mine just finished reading "pride and prejudice" by jane austen and i "the picture of dorian gray" by oscar wilde. i recall the immense sympathy that i felt for raskolnikov in doestoevsky's "crime and punishment". the modern novel, perhaps i haven't read too many novels written of our time, doesn't seem to possess the same type of power to relate the character to you, the reader.
for example, although dorian gray was a 20 something male who had a benefactor which made him forever wealthy, attending operas and smoking in opium dens, i could very much understand the voice in his head. i'm definitely not forever wealthy, nor have i ever been to an opera and much less an opium den, but i could hear the conversations of thought that made his heart & motives go tick-tock very much within my own self.
everyone is in love with the dan brown novels these days..."the davinci code" and "angels & demons". i haven't read them yet, and so maybe i'm judgments that i shouldn't, but i just can't imagine how these books can "speak" to an audience for such a long period of time. what are going to be the dorian gray's and elizabeth bennett's of our day?
maybe eric is right...in our day and age, no one wants to be reminded of morality.
and i quote from her myspace page: "liz + jenn reunited at last : mayhem and french fries ensues. "
a capitol fourth, er i mean third...the dusky evening hours of july 3rd were spent on the west lawn of the u.s. capitol. we were able to see the entire rehearsal minus the crowds and fireworks and torrential rain...the symphony played in our ears and small children bounced and spun around us...we got hungry because everyone else had brought picnic munchies...all i had to offer was water and a box of mentos.
the sun went down on us and it was the most beautiful piece of orange warmth setting just above the canadian embassy on our distant right. how wonderful it is to lay on a blanket, smell the green, green rass around you, look up into the sky and see one small moving dot of a plane above leaving streaks behind it...even more wonderful when you realize everyone else around you is looking at the show instead and you are the only two who see the treasure in the sky.
saturday lounging in alexandria by the water at powhatan park...we had our own little piece of grass, he went for an afternoon run along the boardwalk towards the wilson bridge...i picked wild flowers, tied them in a green stem bow, and bestowed them upon him. *smile*
we went to the spy museum this day...the afternoon was so perfect that it called for afternoon reading in the sun at the national sculpture garden fountain and then later a magnolia tree shaded nap on a bench.
at home relaxing on the couch...he's installing linux on the desktop in the background & showing me his joglog on his laptop...if he says,
"do you want these boxers that i hate?"
what do you say????
"of course i want them dear...."
wednesday, june 28th @ 8:00 PM
print B&W flier | directions | Who is attending
trailer | Video Podcast
so i didn't take this picture...but it is what awaited me on my firefox browser when i went to check the daily news happenings...above this cute little green monster were the words "montreal festival city"...ack! with the following link to this article talking about all the splendors of montreal...double ack!
i mean c'mon! this is torture! i KNOOOOOW montreal is wonderful already...one slight problem...i'm not there!
warning: ok...so this posting is mainly because i want to celebrate with my favourite montreal girls tonite....they've worked so hard and i know must be completely exhausted but there is always room for a little shaky-shaky! i miss you guys...wish i were there so we could fall off stages together and jump out of cabs because we are about to puke...to walk home with each other and laugh at such high pitches that it is just plain annoying! congratulations, my dears! i'm so very proud of you!
-thoughts of thesis clutter my head like butterflies in a net
-thoughts of moving to a new city and the horrible new york walk-up apartment + me having tons of books
-thoughts of another moving closer to me and how happy/anxious that makes my heart
-thoughts of two worlds colliding into one and me being left all together holding nothing but my heart
-thoughts of looking for a job excite me, yet i hate it, you know...the whole process of resume/portfolio/waiting/interviews/choosing...i wish someone would just call me tomorrow and say be here monday morning at such and such time
-thoughts of summer in the air accompanied with desires to go and sit on the grass, soak in the sun, and just be
-thoughts of my dear gul and the wonderful grateful dead photo remind me of love and friendship and how this is all we need in this world to be happy...who needs a master's or phD? i shouldn't tell myself that till next tuesday.
ok back to my pilgrimage or sorts...time tos tart the day and design away. i want my project to be beautiful. right now i am worried because my drawings are not beautiful. they are all auto-cad-ed up and not so pretty. i'm having a hard time trying to decide since this is not my thesis defense presentation, but merely a final progress review for the semester, how do i continue working without showing my normal "finished" drawings. from now until tuesday, i feel that my project needs a few layers of depth added, in meaning and in drawing...i hope that design approval will come easier than at midterms...if not, i'm about ready to tear my eyes out.
Find your own pose!
| Toboggan Traits and Tendencies | Tobogganeers are always one step in front of their peers; they're first to buy a house, first to microdermabrate, first to spend more than a thousand dollars on a rug. Yet in their rush to get ahead of the curve, Toboggan couples sometimes find themselves racing in two entirely different directions. If they don't check in frequently to make sure they're both on the same track, they can grow impressively far apart, and it can take a great deal of painful maneuvering and many late-night talks before they reconnect once again. |
| Comfort Zone | Toboggan is a Sun Sleeper pose. Other Sun poses a Tobogganeer might enjoy include Big C Little c, Classic Spoons, and The Heimlich. |
| A Note About Feeding | Tobogganeers have two modes: fed and calm, and unfed and frantic. To prevent bickering and other erratic behaviors, always keep the pantry and glove box well stocked with a supply of crackers and spreadables. |
Walter Sobchak: Am I wrong?
The Dude: No you're not wrong.
Walter Sobchak: Am I wrong?
The Dude: You're not wrong Walter. You're just an asshole.
Walter Sobchak: All right then.
happy song for the day is felix da housecat's "rocket ride"!
dance party in studio today! draw! draw! dance! dance!
