The Wendy City

Tree, limited edition print

2008-03-09T18:39:00.003-05:00

A lonely winter tree and its shadow.

Available here for $15. This is a hand-drawn digital image printed with archival inks on 8" x 10" matte photographic paper. It is one of an edition of 100.

Or go here to see other available prints.

Fortune Cookie, limited edtion print

2008-03-08T10:08:00.002-05:00

This giant fortune cookie has a fortune waiting to be pulled out. It starts, "You will" and leaves the rest to you.

It's one of a limited edition of 100, printed on 8" x 10" matte photographic paper with archival inks, signed and numbered. You can order it here for $10 or go here to see more.

Burger, limited edition print

2008-03-07T18:05:00.003-05:00

A giant, melty, overflowing hamburger for your kitchen. The funny thing is that I'm vegetarian. There's something about this image that's appealing, even if the real thing is pretty gross (to me).

This hand-drawn digital illustration is available as a part of a limited edition of 100. Each print is signed and numbered. It's printed on 8" x 10" matte photographic paper with archival inks.

Get it here for $10, or go here to see my other prints.

Home Sweet Home, limited edition print

2008-03-04T08:32:00.004-05:00

Instead of cross-stitch and canvas, this idyllic 8" x 10" Home Sweet Home print was made with archival ink and paper. It's available in a limited edition of 100, each one signed and numbered, for $10 here. Or go here to see my other work.

Frog, limited edition print

2008-03-03T11:35:00.004-05:00

This is my translation of a little green frog amulet, from ancient Egypt. I have no idea what it was used for, though I've had fun wondering. Was it for fertility? To bring rain? Sure, I could look it up, but that would spoil the possibilities.

An 8" x 10" print on matte photographic paper with archival inks, signed and numbered (out of 100), can be had here for $15. Or you can look here to see what else I have.

Couches, limited edition print

2008-03-02T10:37:00.004-05:00

A bright living room set for a dark room. I'm not sure I would ever want green couches with orange and fuscia accents, but it's a composition I like anyway.

This print is on matte photographic paper with archival inks. It is part of a limited edition of 100, and is signed and numbered. The colors really pop.

You can order it for $10 here. Or see what else I have here.

Head, limited edition print

2008-03-01T10:06:00.006-05:00

This print is my hand-drawn, digital version of an ancient sculpture. The weight and breadth of his features appealed to me. And I wonder what his odd hat denotes.

It's printed on matte photographic paper with archival inks in an edition of 100; each is signed and numbered. It's only $10, plus $5 shipping. Order here. Or see what else I have here.

Apples

2008-02-29T14:19:00.006-05:00

After a long absence
Nearly two years after my last post, here's some shameless self-promotion. I've started doing vector illustrations and selling limited edition prints on Etsy.com. Every print is signed and numbered, and printed on archival matte photographic paper with archival inks.

This print is of three apples sitting on a dark plate. You can order one here. Or see what else I've got here.

Thinking about betrayal

2006-06-26T21:26:00.000-05:00

The themes are recurrent in my "what-if" scenarios: infidelity and physical pain; the worst extremes of betrayal. Sometimes the two are present in the same nightmare. These are the ones where I'm the punisher, transforming my emotional pain into someone else's physical pain. Even if there is a sub-human urge to identify with pain - inflicted or received - as shown through photographs, I am still sickened by the unfathomable depravity of others, mostly men. It's men who are so brazen and careless about their affairs, too. They bounce from woman to woman in Antonioni movies, easily and without more than verbal attachment. The lack of imagination, the inability to see themselves from the position of those they betray, their missing empathic sense is foreign, so foreign that I am continually surprised by it. But now I assign these attitudes to those around me, because it seems safer to be expectant than caught unaware. Infidelity I believe common, but sadism, though there is as much evidence of it, distresses me intensely; I mentally turn my head, yet my eyes keep reading.

I'm still here, I swear

2006-06-04T21:59:00.000-05:00

Month 1 in the big city has been great. Non-stop excitement, or at least there's always something to do. Love, love, love it here. (Oh, god, and the foood!)

Anyway, I was asked to post some pictures and now I have. These were taken today (except for the bar scene). Coming soon: A photo of the view from my room - a brick wall. That's so cliche, I know, and believe me I wish I were making it up.

The Guggenheim New York: Where You're Part of the Show

2006-03-16T15:38:00.000-05:00

I almost didn’t pay to go up the spiral in the Guggenheim Museum’s big Rotunda, thinking that the experience couldn’t possibly be worth the entry price, because I had already taken my pictures, I didn’t want to see the art, and I could see the ramp from the (free) lobby. But I watched the people above watching me below; this was new. I had not seen pictures of people in the space. It is always presented as this empty formal composition; a dead sculpture. Above me it was like Whack-a-Mole: where was the next head going to appear? People were drawn to the view, compelled to look across and down just as I was compelled to look up.

Bringing my attention back to the ground floor, I saw that the bench that curves out from the wall was packed with people jealously guarding their spots. I realized that the ledge above their heads acted as shelter, protecting these people from the seven-story height and allowed them to be both a part of the experience and separate from it. Looking down, the polished concrete floor had thin metal rings, circles, laid in it of the same metal as the understated “Guggenheim Museum” title cast at the base of a curving, cantilevered wall outside. I wondered at the permanence of these two decisions, especially the rings because they create an infinite, unchanging pattern, a tattoo.

Once I was up a couple of levels and could see across, up, and down into the entire building I started to understand the space’s appeal. I was part of an interactive, shared experience; we were walking up the spiral looking at art, standing at the balcony’s edge feeling exhilarated, looking and being looked at because we were part of the unofficial and ongoing museum-goers exhibit. And because you cannot watch someone without yourself being watched, the result is a communal experience instead of an exploitative one.

The way the room’s intimacy is achieved is so subtle that most visitors probably never think to question it. The small diameter at the base of the spiral that gradually opens up to the sky; the shelter provided by the floor of the spiral above for the walkway of the spiral below; the size of the circles in the floor— the diameter proved to be slightly smaller than standing in the middle of one with my arms out to either side; a key-hole shaped doorway low enough that I could touch the top of it without effort (I am 5’4”); the repetition of the circle size, using it as a module both for the bubble skylights and for half-columns.

It is the use of the half-columns that most impressed me. Within the main space are two giant support columns that stand from the ground floor to the roof—one houses the elevator, but I don’t know about the other. To keep these structures from overwhelming the main space, Wright added half-columns the same diameter as the floor circles to the side that receives the most human contact and attention, that facing into the spiral. This simple gesture gives the human body something to respond to and, when you’re looking at it from across the room, a vertical line that your eye will follow from floor to ceiling. He even makes one of the half-columns emerge through the spiral at the lower floors so that it becomes a half-column inside the entry ramp.

Exhibit space is created between rib-walls, which are long in a direction perpendicular to the ramp and the exterior wall. Here, the floor steeply slopes up to meet the exterior wall beneath what were meant to be a skylights, but for archival reasons are fluorescent lights above glass. The rib-walls meet the exterior wall below the “skylights,” leaving an opening so light spills into adjacent exhibit spaces.

Sitting on one of the wooden circular stools Wright designed, I watched a little red-haired girl rush past, breathlessly asking her dad if they could visit again soon and listing the activities she wanted to do on that trip. Her harried dad, trying to keep up with her, replied bewildered, “Sure, but we aren’t finished with this visit, yet.” It might be the modern art that she was so excited about, but somehow I don’t think Rothko appeals to a five-year-old as much as Wright does.

From my stool, the building’s structure was completely clear. The rib-walls grew taller, getting shorter in their long direction, not sticking so far into the ramp, and curving towards one another and in towards the center in pairs, until they formed parabolic arches to support the glass dome. Horizontal concrete bands connected these pairs to keep them stable, completing the frame from which the spiral ramp cantilevered. It was as simple and elegant as that, and yet instead of a static composition it was alive with people and afternoon sunlight, a living sculpture if ever there was one.

A Public Library in a "Pedestrian Mall"

2006-03-13T15:19:00.000-05:00

I’ve been suspicious of the new Cameron Village Regional Library, located at the end of Cameron Village Shopping Center, since they started construction. Driving by during assembly I wondered if it would be a positive place when finished worrying that it might resemble a bland corporate headquarters instead of a civic monument. When I left for Europe last summer, the exposed steel frame was too open to know what the enclosed space would be like.

When I returned, I was unsure of the merits of the two-story, green-glass façade and the aluminum shade devices above the second story. The frosted-glass awning over the sidewalk didn’t ease my misgivings. The building had office-park leanings during the day, and Architectural Record-cover aesthetics when lit from the inside at night, but I decided to reserve judgment until I could experience it for myself.

I made the pilgrimage in my car, despite its location only four blocks away, because that’s how most of Raleigh will experience the library for the first time. From the street, it is a long box, with two narrow, brick wings on either side of a projecting glass front, and in the middle, popping up through the roof, is a glass box with a deep eave.

After parking in the lower garage, I wasn’t sure how to get up to the library as no signage existed to direct me. The street sidewalk was visible, but it looked like there might be an entrance at the far end of the garage towards the alleyway. (There wasn’t.) At the surface parking-lot entrance from Clark Avenue’s sidewalk, I was greeted by a sign bolted to a freshly whitewashed brick planter that declared, “SHOPPING CENTER PARKING FOR PATRONS ONLY.” And then in smaller letters, “VIOLATORS WILL BE TOWED AT OWNER’S EXPENSE.” This sign made it clear why the library has its own small parking lot separate from Cameron Village. It should read, “LIBRARY PATRONS STAY OUT.” Or maybe more accurately, “BUY SOMETHING OR LEAVE.”

The sign reveals the pedestrian mall illusion; you aren’t really supposed to park your car and walk from shop to shop on the wide, brick sidewalks, or (god forbid) from the shops to the library. You’re supposed to use the acres of asphalt, parking your car directly in front of the shop you are to visit and afterwards drive to the next shop on your itinerary. This expectation is exceedingly clear when trying to walk from the street sidewalk to the shopping center sidewalk, as I did, where there is no choice but to use the driveway, hoping the cars won’t hit you as they enter. Cameron Village would do better to welcome library patrons (and real pedestrians), to convert them to shopping center patrons, though it is more likely that the same people are both at different times.

The pedestrian experience improves a little upon approaching the building. The library’s parking lot extends up to the patterned sidewalk, perhaps mistakenly so given the concrete planters and black lines negating where three parking places had blocked the entrance. The awning, in combination with the three-foot-high lights lining the sidewalk, almost has the sheltered feeling of an arcade. But the automatic sliding-glass doors of the entry and the vestibule fail to differentiate the building from a grocery-store.

On the inside, however, the external hostility and the glass façade’s dominance are surprisingly absent. Instead, the building is open around a dramatic three-story atrium housing an attempt at a grand stair and a glass elevator. Glass railings along the upper balconies allow views into the adjoining spaces.

On the second floor, at the south end of the atrium, the façade is a comfortable companion due its separation from the activity of the parking lot and the sidewalk. Looking out from this spot, you can see that the useless-looking shade devices work quite well because of their airplane-wing-shaped fins. Indirect light is abundant, both from the shaded windows and from a continuous light-shelf above that doubles as a soffit.

On the north side of the second floor is a view-window that looks out over the access alley and the two apartment buildings on the other side of it, with their little lawns. The “view” is dominated by power lines and the concrete corridor. Cherry Huffman Architects probably didn’t realize this would be the view, but the result is an honesty of context. This is where the building is; this is what a lot of Raleigh looks like. Here is a civic building that acknowledges its context allowing for discussion of the built environment.

During my visit, middle-school kids were excitedly positioning themselves in various locations opposite each other and on different levels to explore how they could be physically separate but visually connected. Though over-scaled, the interior of the new library is shockingly communal, contrary to the inhospitable Cameron Village Shopping Center and Raleigh’s lack of a public realm.

Including Architecture in K-12 Education

2006-02-16T13:09:00.000-05:00

Architecture literally surrounds us. It pervades every aspect of our lives. Therefore, including it in K-12 education should be straightforward. Below I’ve looked briefly at how architecture could be included in only three subject areas of traditional education, but I have little doubt that with more thought it could be included in nearly every subject. (I haven’t looked at solar orientation or sustainability, for instance, both of which could be covered in either Earth Science or Life Science.)

In English class when studying a story, students could be asked to draw a plan or section diagram, or build a model of a building important to the plot. (Jane Erye comes to mind.) They might be asked what kind of light the building allows in; what certain rooms feel like as opposed to others; what materials the floors, ceilings, and walls are; how tall or wide spaces are; and how all of this would affect the life or mood of the occupant. They could look at the deeper meaning this building has for the resident in the story. Then they could be asked to do the same in their own lives by picking a building important to them, performing the same analysis (drawing plans, sections, and building a model), and writing about the physical and ephemeral qualities that make it important to them. (Granted, most kids will likely write about their house, but an exercise like this would make them aware of their house as architecture.)

In math class, it is always better to apply concepts. When learning multiplication, students could learn about space as well, square feet being such an important concept in real estate and architecture. Understanding the difference between square feet and volume might help break the dependence on square feet as a resale indicator by putting the emphasis on the experience of the space instead of on the amount of flooring. This could be demonstrated in the classroom by taping outlines on the floor for representing the square footage, but adjusting the “ceiling” heights inside that space (someone could stand on a stool holding out a piece of cardboard while someone else stands in the space under it). The shape of the taped outline could be adjusted to achieve the same square footage, but an unusable space. Rearranging furniture within a usable space, based on their dimensions could also be a worthwhile exercise.

During geometry sections, though, is when buildings absolutely need to be studied. Proportions in relation to the human body and volume are essential. Students could learn about scale by building models with the same proportions but with larger dimensions and looking at the results of both when compared to a human figurine. Nearly every geometric exercise could be applied to a building in some way.

In Social Studies (that’s what they called it in my school district, think history/current events/cultural studies), any building that played an important role in the history of the United States is fair game. As are important historic figures who commissioned or designed buildings. When Thomas Jefferson is discussed, his architectural importance should not be ignored. He contributed greatly to the style of our national buildings by helping to start an American Classicism based on the ancient Greek temple. He also had a large effect on how the college campus developed based on his design for the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. Monticello, the home he designed and redesigned, is so important to our history and to his identity that it appears on the back of the nickel.

The development of building types directly reflects our economy. The skyscraper, as one example, developed in Chicago first before spreading to the rest of the world. Students could study the form and purpose of skyscrapers, the history and structure of Chicago, and then be asked why. What was it about Chicago that allowed this to happen, that impelled it to happen? Students could read The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair, not just as an anti-industrialization book, but also as a text illustrating the harm caused by not having architects and building codes to ensure the safety of the immigrant workers.

Why did suburbs develop? Why do we all want to live in freestanding, single-family homes? What are the positive aspects of living far from work and school? What are the negative aspects? Why do people get so upset about Wal-Mart? And the most important question that every child should be asked is, Why is the car so important and how does it affect the design of our buildings?

Slippery Lecturer

2006-02-14T17:27:00.000-05:00

Lawrence Scarpa, of Pugh + Scarpa Architecture (a typical, flash-heavy architect's site) in Santa Monica, CA, gave a lecture at NC State last night. His warm-up was to tell a Paul Rudolph anecdote from Scarpa’s days as a recent graduate working in Rudolph’s office in New York.

A Texan comes into Rudolph’s office.

Texan: I want a colonial mansion.
Rudolph: Okay.

Rudolph designs a “vintage Rudolph” building and presents it to the Texan.

Texan: Looks great. Let’s do it, but is it colonial?
Rudolph: Absolutely.

And so Scarpa reveals the origin of his squishy ethics. In his world, the client needs to be convinced in spite of their ignorance, so sometimes the client is told that everything is under control and moving smoothly when actually the project isn’t designed. And who, according to his own website, sends employees to “sign in for him” at continuing-education seminars (at which required continuing-education credit is earned) instead of attending them himself.* Why the charade? Why risk the humiliation and lack of trust if you are found out? And what was that Texan’s reaction when one of his more informed neighbors explained to him that he does not, in fact, have a colonial mansion?

By discussing and showing the work of sculptors and artists between slides of his projects, Scarpa is advocating building as an ongoing art project. He cited an “evolving” project, a funky platform structure for a film director that was built by a design team including the contractor as a member. It was built in only 12 weeks, from conceptual design to completion and was all fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants; drawings were done by hand with construction quickly following. “What we ended up with was better, I think, than if we had worked on it for years and told someone to build it exactly as drawn.” That is debatable. What they ended up with looks hastily assembled; a collage of metal panels, pipes, and concrete supports.

The scale of the projects he’s working on seems to affect his attitude towards the contractor. If it’s small, he and the contractor are equals with a common goal. If it’s large, “We treat the contractor like an assembler not like a builder.” Which is it? Is the contractor competent or not? How does the contractor feel about being treated as an assembler? “They were thrilled to work on something different than they normally do.” I’m sure they were.

As a founding member of LivablePlaces.org, Scarpa says, “We’re not active enough politically as architects.” The non-profit held a design competition for Santa Monica affordable housing without specifying a program. Naturally, the architecture-firm participants asked questions about the program, how many bedrooms per unit, etc. Scarpa saw this as a failing. “We’re so far removed from shaping our cities. We’ve become like the window dressers.”

When I asked how much contact he has had with the future residents of this affordable housing he said, “None.” He stressed that those involved in the project were creative people and knew the needs of the community.

“Wasn’t that the problem with the horrible housing projects of the ‘60s, that the architects came in and said ‘You should live this way’?” I asked. He responded in the negative. He said that those projects were federally-dictated where this one is local. I don’t see the difference between dictation originating locally or nationally, it’s still dictation. Perhaps, what he means is that this affordable housing isn’t for the poor. Olivecourt, the result of the design competition, has starting prices in the "low $300,000’s" which makes it like a speculative condominium project in most other urban centers.

If it were for the poor, the real poor, not involving the future residents of this project would appear to be only the latest paternalistic effort to elevate the poor through “good design.” It would be another way to get Channel 4 News to do a cheesy feature story on your organization, because, as Scarpa says in relation to sustainable design, “You don’t have to do much to look like a hero.”

*Click "Features". Click "A Day In The Life". Click just to the right of the number 9, for image one below. Then click the number 10 for image 2.

The Process of Becoming an Architect

2006-02-09T14:58:00.000-05:00

Before applying to architecture school, I found that the median salary for intern architects is $35,000 a year, so I knew the career was not lucrative, but, I thought, if I could design residences, the emotional benefit would be worth it.

School is a three-and-a-half year grind (if you’re getting a Masters with a different undergraduate degree). You don’t sleep the first two years. The third year, you sleep, but only if you’re burnt out enough to demand it for yourself.

After graduation, though, there is an internship period of not less than three years. You’re lucky if you’re working less than 50 hours a week, but at least you’re sleeping. This is when Intern Development Program (IDP) credit is earned through performing various tasks for a minimum number of hours while employed at a licensed architecture firm. This phase lasts, on average, five years because earning IDP must be balanced with doing the tasks the firm needs. For example, they may not need you to visit the construction site often, so it takes longer to earn that credit.

The tasks are often mind-numbing: drawing bathroom elevations, double-checking shop drawings - sent to your office by contractors showing column locations or other important details, tracking down door-handle information, calculating cost per square-foot, etc. Your firm is willing to put up with your ignorance and teach you the profession. School, you find, is irrelevant to 90% of what you do. If you hated school this might be positive, but if you loved the intellectual and formal challenges, this could be hell.

Interns make on average, $35,000 to $54,500 a year depending on their years of experience. If the firm is well-known, the interns will be paid minimum wage, $15,000 to $18,000, if they are paid; this is a system that allows the wealthy to employ the wealthy.

Once IDP credit is earned, you may take the numerous licensing exams, which either satisfy the state or national requirements. The nation exam, the Architect Registration Examination (ARE) has nine divisions with some daunting pass rates. Even taking special classes, it is unlikely that you will pass every division on the first try.

Once licensed you can demand a higher salary, but you’ll likely need to change firms. Your first firm would have hired a licensed architect instead of you if they had need for one or could have afforded it. As a project architect, that is, the one who signs their name to the drawings, you hold all of the responsibility should something go wrong. For this you need to have expensive insurance incase you’re sued, and you will be sued at some point.

After four years of undergraduate school, three-and-a-half years of graduate school, five years of internship, passing the exams, acquiring scary responsibility and the expense of insurance, and with four years of experience, you’re making a median income of $62,500 a year. For comparison: a structural engineer with a four-year undergraduate degree, a three-year internship, (I assume a license) six to eight years of experience, and expensive insurance has a median income of $95,000; a construction manager with a four-year degree and seven years experience (no licensing required) has a median income of $101,000. Architects aren’t highly valued, at least in terms of compensation.

There isn’t much benefit to becoming licensed, so many people trained as architects simply call themselves designers. They get a commission, design it, and, if it is a project that requires a licensed architect, partner with a licensed firm that produces all of the drawings and oversees construction. (Of course, some licensed firms only sign the drawings.) Some of these unlicensed firms, if only designing houses or apartment buildings smaller than a certain size-limit, never need to partner with anyone, as these projects do not require an architect.

With a profession that already has little societal value, it is harmful for school to neglect the reality of day-to-day firm life. It should accurately reflect the profession, not be so disjointed that it attracts students who would not otherwise want to practice. And somehow, the profession needs to increase its perceived value, because the process of becoming an architect is too difficult and the stress of being an architect is too high for the little benefit one receives.

Invisible, egomaniacal architects

2006-02-03T23:00:00.000-05:00

There is a divide between how architects think about buildings and how occupants think about buildings. So what is the public's opinion, since we are so isolated from the real world, of architects and the architectural profession? They can't possibly think about us as much as we do. My guess is that people don't think about architects at all. Even so, what are common ideas about and stereotypes of architects? Is Howard Roark lurking out there, nameless?

Or maybe he isn't so nameless. One of last summer's Architectural Records described the Pritzker Prize winner for 2005 as "Architecture's Bad Boy," a man who refused to compromise his artistic vision, as if this were a good thing. Howard Roark is alive and well and working in LA. The problem with dear old Howard is that he will never have to live or work in one of his "artistic visions" while potentially thousands of others will. What is the value of his vision once he's done with it? And why are we still promoting this attitude amongst architects? Hasn't it become apparent that it's destructive to the profession? That it loses us more commissions than it gains?

Where is architecture discussed? In K-12 education, medicine is discussed in health class, law in US History, and engineering in a math or physics class. I don't remember a single conversation about buildings in primary school. The only people who talk about architecture are architects and critics. And architects aren't seeking general public input on their process or ideas.

Not such a tall tale afterall

2005-12-30T16:47:00.000-05:00

Tim Burton's 2003 movie Big Fish was a Big Disappointment partly because the computer generated catfish at the end was so unbelievable. Right, like a catfish could ever get that big. Well, National Geographic has compiled their Top Ten News Photos of 2005 and guess what? Number 2 is a 646 pound catfish caught in Thailand. Somehow I missed this story the first time.

Ewan McGregor visits Malawian Aids orphans

2005-12-17T09:50:00.000-05:00

This is the first I have heard of any celebrity visiting Malawi , but if it takes Ewan McGregor to get the world to look at the staggering damage Aids has done to Africa, and Malawi specifically, so be it. From the BBC article , "There are 70,000 children in Malawi who are HIV positive." A great many of them are ophans, their parents victims of the disease.

Adventures in subletting

2005-12-15T17:03:00.000-05:00

I left for Europe without a subletter, but with a roommate. He had originally signed on as a subletter, but agreed to be my roommate when my intended roommate's boyfriend was sent to Iraq and her plans changed. I found another willing subletter who came to see the apartment with his wife and son. The wife drove an SUV, was casually well-dressed, had an air of Southern bourgeois about her. The son was two, well cared for, cute. The husband had tattoos on his forearms, longish hair, piercings, and a former-band-member-out-of-rehab vibe. He spoke about church and how he and his wife were working through their problems by attempting a little separation. If it weren't for his wife and child I wouldn't have considered him. We all agreed on a date for him to move in, etc. I never heard from him again. (I am probably very, very lucky.)

So, too close to leaving to find someone before I left, the task was left to my new roommate, with me acting as a lame go-between. He quickly found a guy, to our joint relief, and we went on with our separate semesters.

Last week I was home for two nights before heading out to Oregon. The apartment was so filthy that despite it being close to midnight on my first night, I seriously thought about calling a friend in Carrboro to stay with her rather than sleep on the cleaner of the two couches under my formerly clean feather bed.

I've been back from Oregon for two days and I've only managed to clean my room, the refrigerator, the sink, and re-wash some of the dishes. In my current roommate's defense, he's been in studio all semester and he doesn't cook.

I walked into my empty apartment at midnight two nights ago, relieved to see that the kitchen counters were clear and the dishes stacked in the drying rack. My relief vanished upon seeing the mound of recycling in the "breakfast nook," the grimy shelves in my food cabinet, the dirt and corroded coins on my empty plastic shelves, the leaves and dirt on my mattress pad, the dirty sheets and muddy towels in my laundry bag (at least he stripped the bed, right?), the bathroom mats resembling doormats in from a chicken run, oh, and my favorite, the unflushed, mildewed toilet bowl with two paper towels in addition to liquid remains. It was midnight, I had been traveling since 11:00am (by that timezone), I really had to pee, and there wasn't any toilet paper. Thank god Harris Teeter is 24 hours; I would have been stuck with the paper towels had I been in Prague.

But if this guy hadn't been available and willing to save the day, things could have been worse, so I'm not as upset as I otherwise would be. And, hey, at least I didn't have to live with him.

Goodbye, Prague

2005-12-01T13:16:00.000-05:00

Or goodbye, Studio, at least since that's mostly where I've been this last month. It's been a wonderful semester, both academically and experientially. And I am ready to go home.

What I will miss:
Excellent public transportation.
The river's drama.
Innumerable vistas from which to view the city.
Walking up Wenceslas Square at night.
Visiting museums.
Cheap cultural events.
The TV Tower (I know, I'm shocked, too.)
Sleep.
Well-behaved dogs.
Jungmmanova Square

What I won't miss:
Fish.
My hotel.
Tourists.
Tesco.
The language barrier.
The TV Tower Babies.
Bodily fluids on the sidewalk.
Public Displays of Affection.

This American Life Marathon

2005-11-26T22:54:00.000-05:00

This is final production week in preparation for Monday's review. While tediously retracing working drawings onto vellum I keep my mind occupied with old This American Life episodes that I haven't heard before. Highlights from yesterday's listening (February to June of 2004):

Life in the Fast Lane. (22 minutes in) Solemn, deep-voiced David Rackoff decides not to eat for 20 days to gain spiritual insight. He's Fraiser on qualudes, wit and literary allusions intact. My (paraphrased) favorite quote, "This is the most selfish thing I've ever done and I am a first-person journalist."

What Really Happens in Marriage. (6 minutes in) John Gottman is a scientist who studies marital interactions using videos and electrodes. After decades of experience he and his team can predict with surprising accuracy whether a couple will stay together or divorce. Turns out anger and disagreements are healthy, what matters is how the couple treats each other during heated discussion.

My Experimental Phase. This entire show is excellent. Nancy Updike talks about how she was the ultimate lesbian except that she couldn't bring herself to date women. Then there's the story of Chaim the Hasidic Glam Rocker (no joke). And finally Sascha Rothchild shares her transformation into a 13-year-old party girl as documented in her diary at the time.

More Prague Weather 2

2005-11-19T11:47:00.000-05:00

And this was the view out my window this morning at 6:45AM. The Praguers kept saying that it wasn't going to snow, that it's too early, that it usually waits until after the New Year. Overall, I hope they're right. I don't want to find out what it's like for snow to stick around for weeks, but the reflected light is appreciated.

More Prague Weather 1

2005-11-19T11:36:00.000-05:00

This is what yesterday morning and Thursday morning looked like. After a week of gray, it was overwhelming to have so much sunshine and blue sky.

The intro to Radiohead's "A Reminder"

2005-11-18T12:57:00.000-05:00

One of the guys in studio stopped what he was doing, took out his ear buds, and announced, "The intro to this Radiohead song on my iTunes is the metro announcement for our stop." What he means is that it's a recording of the recording played when the doors close in the train at a stop before ours on the A/Green Line here in Prague. Translated it says something like, "The doors are closing. The next stop is Jirzho z Podebrad." It would be amusing if it was made from the Flora station, the one under the mall next to the cemetery. I have a vision of Thom making his lonely and depressed way back into the city after a surreal tour of that mall. Maybe he watched the marmosets, too.

That castle on I-5

2005-11-17T11:04:00.000-05:00

Despite the fairytales associated with the Interstate 5 castle (in Creswell, OR) it's just a home for ordinary people, even lacking an estate name. Gimghoul Castle, in Chapel Hill, NC easily has it beat with ghosts and a secret society, called the Order of the Gimghoul. [via via]