Saturday, April 22, 2006

The Role of an Architect

JBMoore made a thoughtful comment over on Imemine's blog to which I wanted to respond at length:

Discovery is basic science. Invention is applied science. Discovery is asking how or why does the World operate the way it does and finding an answer. The answer (knowledge) is the reward itself. Invention is applying what you know about the World to make something useful for yourself and others. The invention or its benefits is the reward. Discovery is the child of curiosity. Invention is the child of necessity. Sometimes, they overlap, but that depends on the person. Some minds can discover and invent, but with the way science and engineering are taught these days, two different mindsets exist. It's the difference between being an architect and being a structural engineer. An architect is an artist and designer. The building is art. To a structural engineer, the building is a bunch of materials positioned to defy gravity and look like something similar to what the architect drew.


I feel that my role is one of discovery far more than of invention.

In fact, I honestly don't think I've ever invented anything. As somebody who is seen by others as possessing creative gifts, it was at first a blow to come to such a realization. Doesn't bother me in the slightest anymore. I have always been an observer; my strength, synthesis.

My work deals in discovering potential Even in design, it is a gathering and reordering of sometimes-disparate elements from sometimes-disparate sources.

Can there really, truly, be any quality of space or light that is new, that has never been experienced in some form or another?

And in the ideal form, a detail is a celebration, bringing together disparate surfaces, materials.

My photographic work only draws out the beauty in what is. Drawing? Much the same. Even if I draw from imagination, the idea came from somewhere. Perhaps God. Perhaps my subconscious. It doesn't matter. Ceramics? My best work comes through an iterative process, from uncovering the potential in unexpected results. I invent nothing. I discover much.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.

6 comments:

anonymous julie said...

Because I'm likely to revise this post - hastily written before leaving for the day - here is the original text.


JBMoore made a thoughtful comment over on Imemine's blog to which I wanted to respond at length:

Discovery is basic science. Invention is applied science. Discovery is asking how or why does the World operate the way it does and finding an answer. The answer (knowledge) is the reward itself. Invention is applying what you know about the World to make something useful for yourself and others. The invention or its benefits is the reward. Discovery is the child of curiosity. Invention is the child of necessity. Sometimes, they overlap, but that depends on the person. Some minds can discover and invent, but with the way science and engineering are taught these days, two different mindsets exist. It's the difference between being an architect and being a structural engineer. An architect is an artist and designer. The building is art. To a structural engineer, the building is a bunch of materials positioned to defy gravity and look like something similar to what the architect drew.



I feel that my role is one of discovery far more than of invention.

In fact, I honestly don't think I've ever invented anything. As somebody who is seen by others as possessing creative gifts, it was at first a blow to come to such a realization. Doesn't bother me in the slightest anymore. I have always been an observer; my strength, synthesis.

My work deals in discovering potential Even in design, it is a gathering and reordering of sometimes-disparate elements from sometimes-disparate sources.

Can there really, truly, be any quality of space or light that is new, that has never been experienced in some form or another?

And in the ideal form, a detail is a celebration, bringing together disparate surfaces, materials.

My photographic work only draws out the beauty in what is. Drawing? Much the same. Even if I draw from imagination, the idea came from somewhere. Perhaps God. Perhaps my subconscious. It doesn't matter. Ceramics? My best work comes through an iterative process, from uncovering the potential in unexpected results. I invent nothing. I discover much.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.

anonymous julie said...

Mark, that's really quite... odd... in a good way... you made a comment in response to something I said the other day, at the same time as I was writing to a friend about essentially the same thing. Reassuring synchronicity.

Kathy, glad that helped... it did seem like we weren't quite on the same page...

jbmoore said...

Julie,

I was thinking of answering your question in my blog, but commenting here in your blog seems more appropriate. You asked:

"Can there really, truly, be any quality of space or light that is new, that has never been experienced in some form or another?"

From your field's perspective, the invention of concrete and its use in the Pantheon was a first. A new structure enclosing a space in a unique way was created for the first time. The use of concrete and steel has opened buildings and created structures and spaces that were inconceivable 100 years ago. As material science improves, you will be limited only by your imagination and the limits of the new building materials, and the ground the structure is built on.

From a physical and biological perspective everything is new every moment of every day. The photons in the sunlight are all unique particles or waves created which escaped from the Sun 8 minutes ago. Each photon is "new" in that sense. The cells and molecules in any living thing you observe are always changing. No inanimate or living thing is in exactly the same state it was when you saw it a minute, a week, a month, or a year ago. The neurons in your brain are changing as circumstances warrant as you forget some things and experience new things. Psychologically, you are recreating your world with each blink of the eye. Psychological time is a human construct. It is useful for surviving in the world, but not necessary. A cat or dog has no concept of time. It is always Now, always new, for an animal. But I notice that my cats can anticipate me. They greet me when I come home, although I doubt that they are anxiously waiting as a human would. More likely, they hear my car, look out the window, listen to me walk up the stairs. For them, it is Now. It always will be Now. They point the way back to the Sacredness we call God. So, psychological time is a tool and in some ways a trap most people are stuck in. Yet, there is physical time. We age or appear to. There is day and night, but no day is the same as the previous day. Everything has changed - energy, matter, life, planets, stars, galaxies. Change is the only constant. That is the wonder of it all. All is in flux.

So, in a way, you are just rediscovering yourself and the world at the same time every instant since you are the world and the world is you and you are both in flux. "Every moment your consciousness creates the world that you inhabit." Does this perspective make any sense to you? Am I helping or hindering?

CE said...

"Can there really, truly, be any quality of space or light that is new, that has never been experienced in some form or another?'

Yes, every moment is new. But we always live in our memories and projections. But can we actually live in the present? What is the present moment? I guess it is made up of thoughts about the past and the future. We never really think of the present moment. We always think of what just happened and what's going to happen. When I see something happen, it is already gone; what I have is just a memory of it. Things fly. Yet our seeing and thinking are happening in the present. Therefore to see our thoughts as they are happening is to live in the present. Thinking always happens in the present, no matter how infinitesimally short it is. So I ask myself, why should we stop thinking? Let thinking be. It simply happens. And we don't need to suppress it.
Thinking if observed without attachement to it, by way of acceptance or rejection, judgement, and condemnation, will eventually become intelligent. This is meditation.
But how long or short is the present moment? I guess, long enough for things to exist and to happen.
Is this new and intelligent? ;>)

Jon said...

I think you're getting at the mystery between the Unmanifest and the Manifest. From a nondual perspective, both are God.

Everything that is, or that can be, (all potential) is in the Unmanifest, the Father, pure Godhead beyond "God." The Manifest world is the world of forms, which could be thought of as God's imaginings, our "reality."

Things come into apparent being by many apparent means--but the fact is only God is. Infinity expresses itself infinitely.

anonymous julie said...

Which is new every moment, the thing observed or the eyes that observe it?