7.12.10
Relief
12.9.10
10.8.10
Studio and Beyond
I was stoked from the start of the session to make things. studio didn't disappoint. yet I never expected to feel a kind of anxiety when creating, this feeling of knowing what to do, but not how to do it. To add on to the confusion, the TA would often look at my models or drawings and essentially say that they sucked, sending me on a 180 degree turn. The results of these projects were not as good as I would have liked, but I learned a lot from the overall experience.
Which brings up the question, am I really cut out for this sort of thing? It's one thing to continually learn from past projects and failures in studio. But eventually I'd have to succeed in the real world, to win the bid, and build the building that people will enjoy. Am I creative "enough" for that? Not now...
I believe I have potential. I can definitely see myself improving my ability to come up with ideas and working on them. Needless to say, this will take a huge time commitment. Should I pursue a career in architecture, I’d be taking the high road.
So what am I willing to sacrifice? Would I have time for a family? How much money is this gonna cost me? the questions keep rolling in.
I’ll do what I can to plan things out. The future's uncertain, but I do need a general sense of where I want to be 10 years, maybe even 20 years from now.
If there's any certainty in all this, it's that whatever career I choose to pursue, engineering or architecture, I’ll have to pursue it with little hesitation and a ginormous amount of passion. The time I’ve spent in studio can certainly attest that architecture is a struggle that I’ve got to put all my energy in to overcome, a struggle that is both frustrating and attractive. after these six weeks, I can already tell that going into architecture would be one helluva road trip.
should i take it?
9.8.10
"The Architect"
7.6.10
Architecture
17.5.10
Book List
Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain:
26.4.10
Wedding Dress
28.3.10
Ready or Not
21.3.10
Mini-Saga
Despite the flaring heat, they trained section after section. The sound of shoe rubber hitting against sweaty palms echoed off the white walls. Afterwards, they horsestanced for what seemed like hours. “Jia yo!” they yelled. To end the day, they sat on the garage door ledges watching the sunset together.
note: a mini saga is a short story written in exactly 50 words. I know I could have written this better but I wanted to give things a try. more to come?
6.3.10
Dilemma
Alas, I was in this situation. There are a few other stories like this, but none as traumatizing as this. Let's continue.
I open the washer. Great. It's a girl's. In my defense I waited a few minutes, filling another washer with clothes. I still had a shit load of clothes to wash.
Work fast!, my mind thought. My hands raced, trying not to think too much on the fact that I was touching various undergarments. Quick! She might be coming down at this very moment.
Right when I slammed the door, she arrives. Well, shit.
Then I did the worst possible thing: I tried to be smooth. Emphasis on tried.
I went to my other washer. She opens the door. Her washer coincidentally no longer holds her clothes. Wonder who made that happen? (hint: who else is in the laundry room?)
I left the room, as if it wasn't me. Then I had second thoughts. I went back, thinking it didn't really matter.
Or did it? Because my friend Steven was now in the laundry room. Girl #1 was now putting clothes away in the dryer. Then another girl came in.
"Oh, are you in line?" Girl #2 asks Steven.
"Yeah, I'm just waiting a few minutes for some other people to get their stuff out," nice guy Steven replied
"Oh, people get my clothes out all the time." Girl #2 said as a matter of fact. Her words didn't seem to matter. Not when the owner of those removed clothes was in the same room.
The blood of Humiliation was rushing full blast into my skull. With a layer of sweat on my forehead, I ran to the elevator back to my dorm. As I got into the elevator, I heard the ominous footsteps. Please, I begged the elevator door, close faster.
Just as the door was about to shut tight, it reopened. And in walked Girl #1, the girl whose laundry I shamefully pulled out of the washer. It was a long and awkward 4 flights of an elevator ride. Why me?
Somewhere, a divine creator is
Should I feel guilty? Or is it not that big a deal? Thoughts?
26.2.10
Sanity
College. Student. Those two words seem to carry different connotations. "Student" makes me think of the tasks, the academics, the essays and the problem sets. I can't help but feel a slight tingling stress just thinking about it.
But college, that's something different. It's friends, the nights out, laughter, the moments. Cheers to that.
So are you a student? Or are you in college? Both?
13.2.10
???
Whatever.
It could just be the unusual high amounts of Kyle Landry/Yiruma I've been listening to. I actually like it. Used to be that I thought they played nice piano music. But now, I'm just....disgusted with myself. I blame my roommate.
=P