musings of

On the hardest thing

2011-09-23T10:11:00.001-05:00

Never forget that life can only be nobly inspired and rightly lived if you take it bravely and gallantly, as a splendid adventure in which you are setting out into an unknown country, to meet many a joy, to find many a comrade, to win and lose many a battle.
- Annie Besant

Here's a youtube video.

2011-06-16T22:59:00.002-05:00

[For those who don't know, I have a summer job in Ohio doing architect stuff.]

So, four days into a new job - the job itself is familiar, though some parts are new. The great source of intrigue is the people. Observing them, and observing myself, and the interactions. Mostly I hang back and watch. Everything about me is in plain sight - for those who know what they're looking for. I've had a few interactions and conversations whose nature rather surprised me, and I sure didn't start them.

I guess that's a comment and an observation. I'm still learning to understand it. Connection has been a central topic for me over the last months, so it's fascinating and beautiful to move from relative isolation, in terms of relationships with other adults, to relative population.

2011-05-14T10:44:00.002-05:00

I keep looking for this quote and returning to it. It's in C.S. Lewis - Surprised by Joy.

It's about the distinction between enjoyment and contemplation. It's on 217-218. Maybe now I'll be able to find it again more easily. I got lucky finding it this time.

‘ I read in Alexander’s Space Time and Deity his theory of “Enjoyment” and “Contemplation.” These are technical terms in Alexander’s philosophy; “Enjoyment” has nothing to do with pleasure, nor “Contemplation” with the contemplative life. When you see a table you “enjoy” the act of seeing and “contemplate’ the table… In bereavement you contemplate the beloved and the beloved’s death and, in Alexander’s sense, “enjoy” the loneliness and grief; but a psychologist, if he were considering you as a case of melancholia, would be contemplating your grief and enjoying philosophy. ‘

…It seemed to me self-evident that one essential property of love, hate, fear, hope, or desire was attention to their object. To cease thinking about or attending to the woman is, so far, to cease loving; to cease thinking about or attending to the dreaded thing is, so far, to cease being afraid… In other words the enjoyment and the contemplation of our inner activities are incompatible. You cannot hope and also think about hoping at the same moment; for in hope we look to hope’s object and we interrupt this by (so to speak) turning round to look at the hope itself. Of course the two activities can and do alternate with great rapidity; but they are distinct and incompatible. ‘

Five years.

2011-02-24T08:08:00.003-06:00

It's been just over five years since my world turned upside down. For me it's hard and a little embarrassing to go back and read what I wrote of that experience. Whether the writing is obtuse or clear, it is hard to see how much it lays bare. Of that particular shift itself: I have thought of other ways of expressing it, from time to time. Expectation no longer forming my reality. Thus, loss of everything I was attached to, everything I held to. Except, at the time, God - but that slipped away, too. But loss, loneliness, and only ever always falling. I'm five years more accustomed to the sense of it.

It's coming up on five years since I declared love to be my highest priority:

The argument is this: love comes first. I don't mean sissy love from afar without getting our hands dirty. I mean gritty, real, messy, beautiful, difficult love. (I could more easily show you than tell you, but this is a blog; please forgive my words for falling short.) Doing what Christ did in coming to earth. Sitting down and caring for people with no agenda whatsoever. To be one of those people whose qualities I mentioned in an earlier post:

... approachable, accepting, slow to anger, slow to judge, quick to pardon, seeking to understand, seeking to love, seeking to do right. They create a space where the tide of fear is held back, where no secret is too dark, no failure too deep, where any uncertainty is permitted. Where our humanity can be laid bare without shame or judgment.

Five years later, looking at my own writing: it's strong, vulnerable, and true. Five years. My aim was unerring. I still seek to be that love, and could say it no better now. Love is hard. Love is easy.

New year, same old...

2011-01-01T12:35:00.002-06:00

Well, I'm still attached to the idea of my people continuing to be alive. Too many close calls this year; even one is one too many.

Listening to Adyashanti while taping and mudding drywall - an activity which, by the way, is quite relaxing. At least for me. He remains good stuff, for me - I know I've heard all these recordings before, and I still find new things in them, or - they find me where I am. Pick your subject-object relationship.

The idea that one oughtn't be attached - just another idea to be attached to.

Distinction

2010-09-18T12:04:00.003-05:00

"What you feel and what things are aren't the same." - Donald Judd

I had no idea I'd find a kindred spirit in Judd, but I have. It started innocently enough, in a book recommendation, Spiral Jetta. The author visits Judd's work in Marfa, and her discussion of one of his installations leads me to think that in Judd I may find some clues and strategies for installing my own work. But there the fatal turn: in an academic moment, I borrow a book of essays (as opposed to pictures) from the library ("Donald Judd," edited by Nicholas Serota), on the premise that it is important not merely to reappropriate Judd's installation methods but to understand his reasoning.

In reading, I am finding that, first and foremost, Judd is an advocate of careful and conscious experience. Therein the kindredness.

So here we are. While I remain uncertain of the art/object status of my work (perhaps Fried will shed some light on this in his essay "Art and Objecthood," which I have also obtained) I am not sure of the importance of the distinction. I want to better understand how to express where I stand, not only for the sake of articulate apologia in critique, but also to elucidate my own awareness.

Also this week: I viewed photos of Marina Abromovic's work, after a friend's description of many of the works in her recent retrospective in New York elicited from me a somewhat incredulous response. I regret the response, for experiencing the recount spoke of the strength and impact of the work. But everything was lost in the physical description. The description is a handle, a way to refer to the work such that others understand the reference. But the work must be experienced.

Training Wheels

2010-09-16T20:22:00.000-05:00

Now is the time to know
That all that you do is sacred.

Now, why not consider
A lasting truce with yourself and God.

Now is the time to understand
That all your ideas of right and wrong
Were just a child's training wheels
To be laid aside
When you finally live
With veracity
And love.
- Hafiz

2010-09-10T00:06:00.001-05:00

You are so young, so much before all beginning, and I would like to beg you dear sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now.
- Rainer Rilke

I've returned to my habit of bedtime reading. Since the move:
Letters to a Young Poet
Dirt. The Ecstatic Skin of the Earth.
The Last American Man
Illusions. The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah.
Spiral Jetta

Three Views

2010-07-29T18:01:00.003-05:00

View #1: from my favorite boat. Sailing makes me happy, and pretty much makes everything better. C. and I went sailing on his boat this afternoon.

View #2: from my front yard. Bye bye, Chicago.

View #3: from my new front yard. I'm moving to Champaign next week. Hello, prairie.

Sorry, Folks.

2010-04-29T18:31:00.002-05:00

Comment moderation has been enabled. I'm tired of the spam comments that include links.

I can't stop going back to this one:

2010-04-09T21:23:00.001-05:00

One regret, dear world, that I am determined not to have when I am lying on my deathbed is that I did not kiss you enough.
- Hafiz

2010-03-10T12:40:00.000-06:00

I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.
- Hafiz

Something beautiful with which to greet the day.

2010-01-30T23:56:00.000-06:00

The one encompasses the many, but it is not the sum. The numinous is an experience, and a common one above all. If there is no god but "the" god, then "the" god must encompass all gods; but most honestly "they" are names, scribbled in thirst for knowledge and driven by awe.
-C, maybe.

On Aversion to Mystery

2010-01-12T09:22:00.005-06:00

Untitled

We want it to be cut and dried.
We want it to be easy,
we want it to be certain.
We want to follow the enumerated directions,
and to end up with biscuits.

What about hope?

2010-01-02T23:24:00.004-06:00

Seriously: what about hope? What is it? What's it worth?

I've considered hope for weeks, turned the question over and over. It's the thing with feathers. I'm a little discontent: that's a little too quick, a little too easy. (Not that there's nothing to be said for hope as the thing with feathers. There's a hell of a lot to be said for it.)

Time used to be where I'd write thoroughly about such things, have an analysis party. But... I am not so moved. (If you've been checking my blog lately, I haven't been too moved lately.) Why not? Dunno. Feeling like thinking is in many ways a dead end. It's not, of course: thinking is good for lots of things.

I can link the notion of hope with having any sort of positive vision for a future. Any notion that things may be all right, after all. It's hard stuff to come by. Really hard.

After all, the future is nothing if not uncertain. Ergo, happiness is uncertain, too. (Of course, I could imagine the logistics being more difficult than they need to be, the hurdles greater than they are. Of course I could be.)

And, yeah, sure, it doesn't exist, none of it, but it persists in appearing to exist, so I seem to persist in behaving as though it does exist. And I don't consider its non-existence all that often. Really, I don't do much analysis, anymore. Not the long way; perhaps the short way.

But, what about hope? When dreams seem possible; when a sliver that could lead anywhere, but gleams nonetheless, seems to draw a little closer, when the odds seem a little more favorably balanced... one could call it hope.

At the same time; how is that any more than a distraction? The eternal is, and was, and ever shall be. Of what use is hope when that is the constant? Everything, nothing, longing, no longing. So back into it - illusory? - immanent! - pain, suffering, love, fear. The whole spectrum. Alone - and not. Breathing paradox.

Well, there's some musing for you. No answers, no need for answers. Just musings.

Maker and Mystic

2009-12-21T22:54:00.003-06:00

This graces the pages of Adventures in Clay, but is as much of this as it is of that. As I work at my statement of intent, I find myself in the strange position of needing to express both maker and mystic, to express either of them adequately. So it goes.

I’ve been on hiatus from the studio itself for the better part of two months. Workshop, firings, Thanksgiving, photography, writing, and a 1500-mile grad-school-visit road trip consumed the interim. Given this pause, the obvious question is, “what next?” Being behind the camera, then at the computer, put me in a more objective position. A myriad of conversations with an assortment of intelligent and thoughtful professors and students gave me new insights, drew out the thoughts I’ve struggled to capture for my writing. The sheer volume of interaction and thought, coupled with many, many hours of solitude, finds me with a new perspective. The experience has clarified and edified my ideas on what am I doing, anyway? Now, in Chicago again and without another immanent departure, I experience a sense of separation from all that came before. What next?

The first next: yesterday I spent many hours editing. With a hammer. A strange thing. Significant, but not easily reduced to a few words.

In seeking an understanding of what to make next, I find there are threads that run through the lacuna, things that continue to move and attract me. So, there’s that, another next.

And there remain the mundane but very real timelines of graduate applications. My statement of intent and artist statement remain incomplete, though elucidated by conversation and solitude. Another next.

And so on.

Happy winter solstice.

2009-10-21T11:57:00.002-05:00

The more efficient a force is, the more silent and the more subtle it is. Love is the subtlest force in the world.
- Mahatma Gandhi

Somehow this goes with what I was just writing, which is for a blog post at design-realized.com (http://www.design-realized.com/wordpress to be exact). It's about the grinding stones I saw in Phoenix this spring, and my work with the form:

Physical. The form. Holding a space but not enclosing it.
Material. The ability of the form to be a material test; a large surface area. Since I've been experimenting with amending clay bodies and how they behave in atmospheric firings... this is a nice thing.
Texture. Whereas most of my work has been smooth or finely-textured, these have both a roughness and tenderness to them. I have a tactile and visual attraction to them.
Conceptual. The form is made by grinding corn. The wide groove is worn in through many, many repetitions. I think of markmaking, of myself, how repetition makes things tangible. I think of the power of words, of actions, often wielded without care or respect for the ability to .
As a form it has the potential to be a platform for some kind of social commentary, but I still want them to stand on their own.

2009-09-08T09:58:00.000-05:00

When you are in doubt, be still, and wait; be still until the sunlight pours through and dispels the mists -- as it surely will. Then act with courage.
- Ponca Chief White Eagle

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

2009-09-04T08:51:00.003-05:00

more reflections on 27 to come. but, truly: it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. better times, i think, to come.

last day: a good sail with good friends. dinner. closed out the evening deep in "desert solitaire" by edward abbey, on loan from another dear friend, and listening to "dark side of the moon".

a good chapter to close, but not one to quickly forget.

first day: "dark side of the moon" followed by "dreams of the color blind" followed by some live "explosions in the sky"

and will end with an overnight sailboat race, including cocktails and cooking a hot dinner. (we're going to be casual about it.)

Inside twenty-seven, for a few moments more.

2009-09-03T09:41:00.002-05:00

Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.
- Carl Jung

(This rings of truth. But that's just my view.)

Unrelatedly, but not worth another post: twenty-seven ends at midnight. I'm grateful to close the door. It's been quite the year.

What is Experience?

2009-09-02T08:43:00.001-05:00

Response to JBMoore's post Divine and Manifest.

The word fire is not the thing it points to, yet everyone knows what fire is because they have experienced it.

Have they?

Have people even really experienced the Manifest, or is it all sent through a filter of needing to name and describe everything?

2009-07-28T19:10:00.001-05:00

We see architecture as an act of profound optimism. Its foundation lies in believing that it is possible to make places on the earth that can give a sense of grace to life—and in believing that it matters.
—Tod Williams and Billie Tsien

Ride Report: 19 July 09: Misuwa

2009-07-26T22:22:00.003-05:00

Rode with the Chicago Cycling Club. 60.3mi rolling 17-19mph, temp 60-70, wind NNE 5-7, Clock Tower to Mitsuwa, lunch, return. drank 3 x 24oz water. egads. Here's the start and the finish. Sort of. It's not exactly the start. I couldn't tell you the route; I was really just along for the ride.

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Baby Blue the Sunday Bike, at destination. We had lunch; it was tasty.

The sky was this dramatic but it wasn't this dark.

Once again I elect to show you the sky instead of my fellow riders. There were about a dozen of us. Maybe sixteen.

Okay, here's a few of us.

Paddle Report: 16 July 09

2009-07-26T22:13:00.004-05:00

Put in at McCormick and Oakton. Paddled up to the Bahai Temple. 8 mile round trip. New and exciting tan lines.

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Except, well, we were on the Channel.

Plum Tree sittin' in the river. Er, channel.

I think this is the Metra bridge. In any event, it's beautiful.

Temple is off to the right, and up. Classic kayaking shot, with my bow in the foreground. This is the lock-thingie that keeps the lake out. Or rather, lets it in slowly.

Our destination: the Bahai Temple.

2009-07-19T23:58:00.004-05:00

So a couple hours ago I answer the door. It's a police officer: someone hit my (parked) car.

Just sent my beautiful baby away on a tow truck. The impact moved her half a car length forward and put two wheels several feet onto someone's tree lawn.

On the plus side (?) I'll get a brand new rear bumper out of this. (Street parking is brutal on bumpers.) There will also be a new drivers side rear door, including window (yep, broken glass) and goodness knows what else.

To state the obvious: it's not fair. I love that car.

(from February)

A Letter

2009-07-15T23:59:00.003-05:00

Unfortunately some of my favorite readers of old seem to have dropped away (I don't know that everyone uses an aggregator) so, while I'm curious for quite a few reactions that I'm unlikely to get, I am curious as to what the other four people (it's a negative exaggeration, for my amusement, I think there may be as many as six - kidding again) will have to say. The whole thing's off the cuff, but then I thought it was actually pretty good (we'll see if I feel that way in a week) and decided to post it.

What do I have for you. I dunno. Musings on belief and spirituality. To me, questions like this are to be lived through, answers held loosely and seen as inchoate.

You skipped the notion of God being unlimited in power, so who gives a fig if he has to hear seven hundred million prayers at once. "At once" being a null concept, since time is a theoretical construction. (Maybe prayer's for our good, not God's.) So if God doesn't experience time, then is it all blasting all at once, or does he just change channels? Wars could be fought, or at the very least several Protestant sub-denominations formed, over questions like this. To those to whom these things matter deeply I say, knock yourself out. But I think they're missing the point entirely.

I was raised Catholic. Still find value in ritual. Am finally coming to understand some of the sacraments, through my own life, in some ways. In most ways I'm a nondualist. I can't think of any in which I'm not, actually. It just doesn't really preclude anything else. My chief concerns are to do no harm (truthfully speaking, as little as is reasonably possible. Though I'm frequently very self-critical, I like to try and uphold a standard of reasonableness.) and to love those around me. I find God in other people, when at all. There were moments when I understood the whole thing - Christ rising from the dead - to be true, but in a way that rendered the whole thing irrelevant. But I'm not experiencing those moments now. A favorite line from a song: "or fake your death and only tell your closest friends" and I wonder if maybe the writer was thinking of Jesus at the time, too. The thing that mystifies me is that, given that Christianity was really a pain in the neck for the Romans, proving that their hero was still dead would've put a halt to that, but they didn't. How does this matter to me now? To be honest I'm not altogether sure. I'd like to believe in God the Almighty Band-Aid, Fixer of All Wrongs, but really, I'd only like to. Heaven is here and now. The Kingdom of God is here and now. I don't know if there's an afterlife, but I observe that I have this life, and a damn lot of talents, and that I'm discontent if I'm not using them and truly miserable if I'm wasting my time, so those are some good pointers right there to make good use of what I know I have. As opposed to sitting around waiting. Or as Jewel sang, we are God's hands.

I hung out with Pentecostals in college. This had the potential to make me legalistic and mean. I also got into reading the contemplatives, some of them at least, and this saved me from it, more or less. So I inadvertently got straight into what meditators would consider a more advanced method, and skipped the usual stuff with mantras and that. It's not the same to sit inside as it was in the chapel. (I had a key; it was a separate building.) The closest it comes is being on the water at night. But sometimes just sitting and looking at tree shadows is okay. I have a strong affinity for water; I have a strong affinity for sky. I'm at home with vast, unfathomable expanses.

But none of this, where I stand and what I believe now, hinges on whether or not God exists. The flip side of vast emptiness is a universe teeming with existence. It's all one: there is God, there is no God; The use of theistic language is because the language is familiar to me; it's also an easy enough way of communicating with others. I can't speak easily in the Buddhist paradigm, but the nondual one is somewhat closer.

Nonetheless, there's certainly something to believe as extant. Not wishfully. The occasional verifiable experience that was, at the time, information not known by conventional means, cannot be dismissed, is too specific to be accident. Call it God, the Holy Spirit, the third eye, intuition, a sixth sense, however various people explain things. How that affects life as a daily thing (besides, probably profoundly and constantly) I don't know. But there's always that set of experiences - my experiences - that I can't deny. I don't expect any reasonable person who hasn't had similar experiences to go believing anything based on mine. Fellow travelers, all. Anything I know to be true - some would call this belief but to me it's more internalized and profound - is by my own experience. Dangerous to make oneself the judge; I trust my judgment more than most peoples'. And there's very little, it's not specific, and if anything, it's only made me aware of how little I really understand.

At this point you're either with me or you're not, but if things are going on the table, then there ya go.

Ride Report, 12 July 09

2009-07-12T17:18:00.003-05:00

32.2mi, 19mph avg? rolling at 18-22mph, wind from NE at 8mph, 76f. northbound! damen-ravenswood-sheridan-tower road-old green bay road-glencoe beach, similar return route.

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baby blue, the sunday bike, at destination. except it wasn't my destination, it's just where i decided to turn around so i wouldn't get lost going back.

7 July 2009 - Ride Report

2009-07-12T16:48:00.006-05:00

33 miles rolling 18-22. lakefront-friends'-wells-harrison-canal-archer-california-something-sacramento/humbolt-milwaukee-cicero-lawrence.

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Yes, please view the larger map... all the extra data points are to force it to use the route I took, as opposed to whatever Google thinks is most convenient by car. But still, pretty rad. And, wonder of wonders, you can use the street view, too!

Photo at C: I have always, always liked this building. The nice thing about just being "out for a ride" is that when something catches one's attention, one can make a detour to explore. Click for fullsize.

Photo at G: I love the plant in the background, but seeing the tug and barge was a special treat. Click for fullsize.

Personal Strengths and Career Weaknesses

2009-07-11T10:18:00.001-05:00

More career evaluation stuff from Dad. Transcribed from a scan. (I'll be considering these for myself, of course...)

PERSONAL STRENGTHS

In order that we may have some understanding of your personal strengths, please check any of the words listed below which you feel other people in your working environment might use to describe you (eg superiors, peers, customers, and general business associates)

active
adaptable
aggressive
alert
ambitious
analytical
argumentative
artistic
astute
attentive
broad-minded
composed
congenial
conscientious
considerate
consistent
constructive
contemplative
courageous
courteous
creative
cultured
daring
democratic
dependable
detailed
determined
dignified
diplomatic
discerning
disciplined
discreet
discriminating
economical
efficient
eloquent
energetic
enterprising
enthusiastic
esteemed
exacting
extroverted
fair
forceful
forward-thinker
frank
friendly
generous
genuine
good natured
honest
imaginative
independent
individualist
inspiring
intellectual
intuitive
just
keen
kind
logical
loyal
methodical
modest
objective
observant
opinionated
optimistic
orderly
outspoken
patient
perceptive
perfectionist
personable
philosophical
poised
positive
practical
productive
proud
purposeful
realistic
reliable
resourceful
respected
self-reliant
sense of humor
shrewd
sincere
sociable
sophisticated
sympathetic
systematic
tactful
talented
thoughtful
tolerant
visionary

CAREER NEGATIVES
Listed below are the common factors which can eliminate job candidates from employment consideration. Please review this list carefully. Then, check only those items which potential employers MIGHT negatively attribute to you, IN VIEW OF YOUR OBJECTIVES. For example, if you were seeking to become a University PResident, but did not have post-graduate degrees, potential employers might view you as a candidate with insufficient formal education. Please be completely forthright. We need to understand the way you view your position, in order to minimize or compensate for any potentially negative factors.

You don'to have enough work experience
your experience is limited to 1 industry
your experience is limited to 1 company
your experience is in other industries
your experience is in other disciplines
you have a record of too many jobs
you've made lateral job shifts
your present earnings are relatively low
you are presently unemployed
your work history has employment gaps
you are in a semi-remote location
you aren't fluent in enough languages
you have insufficient formal education
your education is unrelated
you have uncertain job references
you were terminated from previous job(s)
you may be considered too young
you may be considered too old
you haven't traveled enough overseas
you haven't traveled enough in the US
your academic record was mediocre
you didn't hold many jobs in college
you had few activities in college
you need more experience in large firms
you need more experience in small firms
you haven't shown much leadership
you've made slow financial progress
you don't have many major accomplishments
your career has peaked out
you haven't been frequently promoted
you're too much of a specialist
you've been in your job too long
you're too much of a generalist
your previous earnings were too high
you don't know the geographical area
you need more line experience
you need more staff experience
you need more supervisory experience
you need more budgetary experience
you need more creative experience you need more analytical experience
you need more writing experience
you need more speaking experience
you need more management experience
you need more general management experience
you need more top management experience
you need more civic participation
you haven't published enough
you aren't well enough known

Good find from Dad

2009-07-07T20:20:00.002-05:00

Something he got from somebody else. Good stuff. Dad is cool.

It's funny, too, about the car thing. I knew what I wanted, did my due diligence, still wanted it. And inasmuch as a car is (or can be) a representative of the self, I'm really, really pleased with my car.

I realized I put more thought into the purchase of an automobile than I did in my career. For my car purchase, I defined what I wanted, did research and got recommendations. I discovered I could do the same with my career.

I ask myself two sets of questions to develop career requirements.

Where would I like to be in my career in three years? How would I spend my day? What would be a success for me? What would be a failure? What would make me absolutely miserable? What would bring me joy?

What am I known for? What types of things do people come to me for? When people hear my name, what do they think of?

I then look at the responses. Do the things I am known for support the career I want?

For example only, let's say I want to be a java development team leader. I am known for my creativity, independence and working opposite hours from the rest of the team so I can get more done without being disturbed. What I am known for does not fully support the career I want. This is where I have to be honest with myself. If I really like working independently, do I really want to be a team leader? This is how meaningful career conversations begin.

Start with yourself. It's always easier to ask for directions when you have a destination.

briefly,

2009-06-28T20:40:00.002-05:00

i was laid off on monday.

since i have funds to live for some time, this doesn't concern me. and i get unemployment. and i wasn't particularly happy at that job anyway.

but i would like to go about considering my future in an organized fashion.

if anybody has good questions i should consider, or knows of good resources (books, maybe?) that might help me organize my thoughts, this would be helpful.

how to break down questions like, what do i want to do with my life? now that i've spent ten years learning and learning about myself. and what exactly have i been learning, anyhow?

fortunately i can afford to be thoughtful rather than reactive in responding to this, ehm, change of plans.

2009-05-15T15:51:00.002-05:00

a funny thing about my church experience is a sense that it is not okay to have and ask hard questions.

that's one i can do without...

On Looking, Intrigue, and Living with Art

2009-03-06T00:27:00.001-06:00

When I get work back from a firing, I need time to get to know it, to learn it... so often it's not the physical pieces that I need, so much as an understanding of them.

I like to live with artwork; mine and others'. Incorporating it into my life helps me to be attentive to little things, to learn and appreciate details. They teach. I enjoy vessels; some need to be filled and used, others stand well alone. Finding the passenger that is right for the vessel is an enjoyable exercise. Sometimes it's immediately evident, other pieces stand, empty, for a long time before their proper use is realized. In some ways this is a spiritual exercise: not that a piece couldn't be used for anything, but that sometimes there's a rightness in a particular use.

What makes me need to take a piece home - here I think more of others' work - is often not that it is lovely so much as that I am intrigued by it - perhaps intrigued by looking at it, perhaps intrigued by holding it, by the thought of using it, by something else, that is best described as a reaction... in all these, there's something that fascinates me, whether how I experience the piece or how I experience myself experiencing the piece.

Though sometimes it's something far simpler than that; it's the anticipation of enjoying using something, or it's an object that is simply so lovely to behold that I want to keep enjoying it. Those ones, those are just happiness. Bliss. Others, though not lovely in the same way, have something about them, a sturdy plate-ness, for example, or some other singularity of being, after a more ordinary fashion, that easily joins everyday life.

I've been looking at things long enough that I tend to know that reaction, the one that says, you won't be sorry. It's known in an instant. The logic may trail, sometimes by months.

Whatever that initial reaction is, tends to stay. It clarifies over time, I come to understand it better - even a less-favorable reaction, wanting to like something but having reservations, for example - but it doesn't really change.

2009-02-03T12:44:00.000-06:00

"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, design a building, write a sonnet, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, solve equations, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects." Robert Heinlein

Told as a Story

2008-12-27T00:16:00.003-06:00

So I walk away from this bewildered that I am not dead, and bummed that while I hung onto the car for awhile that I didn't get it back under control. Thankful, of course, to be alive, but bewildered, too. It has the chance to become one of those "don't f*** up your second chance" incidents, but probably won't, for which I am quite sorry. I hope, too, that you'll forgive me for admittedly drinking to excess (and having a couple of cigarettes) on Wednesday, once I'd gotten the essentials out of the way - followup on the crash and the last couple of Christmas presents bought - to block out the looping that had started on the "I should be dead" thing, because really, that wasn't going to be good.
-Tales of Christmas

Truth

2008-12-04T09:10:00.002-06:00

Then it was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes. If only they could see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way all the time, there would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed... I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other.
- Thomas Merton

Awareness

2008-12-03T09:44:00.001-06:00

Awareness is our true self; it's what we are. So we don't have to try to develop awareness; we simply need to notice how we block awareness with our thoughts, our fantasies, our opinions, and our judgments. We're either in awareness, which is our natural state, or we're doing something else.
- Joko Beck

For A, and other language lovers

2008-11-20T17:49:00.001-06:00

http://featuresblogs.chicagotribune.com/technology_internetcritic/2008/11/12-worse-titles.html#comments

A Vocabulary, and Application in Discussing Flat Eyes

2008-11-03T21:42:00.005-06:00

This is my response to a post over at Hayden's blog. It's posted here because the response got long; it becomes a description of my experience, and requires using the language I've developed in making sense of my experience. So here I am, trying to introduce my language, a bunch of concepts, and say something with that vocabulary, all at once. Here we go.

When someone is in that place, in that space, evidenced outwardly by the flat eyes, I experience it as though there's nobody there. A flat, featureless wall. Dead, lifeless, passionless.

But that also occurs by degrees. The things that we normally perceive as people aren't really people... they are constructions. Take that which is essential, the real person, and then add layer after layer after layer of insubstantial stuff... my sense is that it's like leaves, or dust, it's a pile of stuff but can be brushed away. Or a person can insist on holding all that in place, then it's not experienced as insubstantial but as a wall. (Here I'm just talking about how I experience other people, not about how I experience myself.) And parts of that wall are consciously held and parts unconsciously, the particulars depend on the person and the moment. It's like a surface, a composition of densities, constantly in flux. And the flatness is like an impenetrable wall. That's how flatness can be by degrees.

So, once I've got a bead on the real person, the true person, even if just a glimpse, then there's a reference point for clarity, at least some degree of clarity, so then there's a sense of how much stuff is in the way. So there are degrees of someone (the real person) being present or obscured.

If I've got no reference point, if it's someone I don't know, a stranger in the conventional term, or someone that I don't know, in the more specific sense, then sending (myself) out (as) a search party may or may not have any success. Depends on the degree of resistance. And I'm coming to understand that even though connection may be immediately apparent, it takes time to explore and understand the thing. So that's another thing that can hinder a search party for a stranger, but can also aid a search party for a friend.

If there is a reference point, then the question becomes how much the relationship can sustain. I would contrast a sort of gentle coaxing approach, hoping for some answering echo, with a more direct and insistent one. It really depends upon the strength of the relationship. Too much and a stretch becomes a tear becomes a break. Which means letting people go sometimes, because I wish not to do harm in the name of doing good.

One particularly effective way of reaching out is play. To get someone to play, to be playful. There's an aspect of spontaneity to it. Busting out singing "Dirty Laundry" comes to mind - my PM had been stressed for months and behind a wall, but for a bit, all that was forgotten. The general rule seems to be that one cannot be playful - it reflects something of one's true nature - and keep the wall up at the same time.

Again, this isn't a textbook, it's just my experience, and my thoughts on how that experience might reflect some general concepts about The Way Things Are. All subject to change as my experience, and thus my data set, does. Your mileage may vary; if this doesn't reflect your experience, my reflections will probably be someplace between "of limited usefulness" which is at least useful, and "expectation forming" which will not help, because then one's focus is practically invariably not in the best place.

Loving life. Sa da tay!

2008-11-02T23:00:00.007-06:00

Sometimes the ordinary is lovely.

I'm loving life.

Right now I'm watching "Pootie Tang," at the recommendation of two friends. (They may be less dear in a couple of hours, but we're just getting into the movie.) Eating mint chocolate chip ice cream from the land of 31 flavors - the chocolate is shaved into the ice cream - with hot fudge.

Just had dinner with the roommate; burger and a couple beers, watched the last half of the Colts-Pats game. I haven't watched television, much less a football game, in ages. It was a pleasure to relax, to sit back and purposelessly enjoy myself. Couldn't say when the last time was that I was purposeless. That was the thing I enjoyed most.

The weather's fine, damn fine. It's 10 or 15 degrees cooler by the lake - I got 20 miles in today, as well as hitting REI, having my heart stolen by a Prana zip-up hoodie when I was just looking for goggles. I need a new amazing fleece-lined wool hat, too, but didn't find one there.

Last night, went to a halloween party, as a Moon Monster Best time I've ever had at a party. Possibly the first I've gone to solo and as an adult. Given that I'm an introvert and usually don't enjoy situations with strangers, that's noteworthy. Remarkable. I also had a five-minute lesson in poi spinning... though with weighted socks. Which was fun. I got the butterfly okay but had a hard time with a two-beat weave. (Can you tell that this intrigues me?)

The week's been weird as hell. Good to find some grounding at the end of it. (This was in the form of connecting with a friend; I was feeling really shaky and he was still exhausted from a late night the previous evening, but I experienced it as a softness and quietness, which helped me to get better settled.) Hard to believe that yet another one's gone.

Musing from last night, or the night before.

2008-10-17T22:29:00.002-05:00

I've never felt lighter on my feet, or stood taller, nor carried more, worn a heavier mantle, in my life.

I was in Galena at the wood kiln this weekend

2008-10-14T00:20:00.001-05:00

I was in Galena at the wood kiln this weekend

It was wonderful out there
Being is easier
Chop wood, carry water - so to speak

IL-20
Effortless being
Through new landscapes, one upon the next, all the same, all different.
They are all part of me.
Driving hills, curves
The city returns to sight. It is alien; I have never seen it before.
It is indifferent. It is not part of me.

Salt
Campfire heat on my face, hands, warming through my slacks, toasting my toes
Falling asleep to the sound of rushing water, creek a few yards from where I lay
Waking, snug in my tent, to the sound of rain falling
There is no time here. The sun rises, the sun sets.
We play our parts in a familiar dance
Glaze, load, stack firebrick to form the door.
Now we make adobe from clay and grass; I form thin pieces in my hands
I turn my hand onto Jay's to pass each piece, and my hand is dwarfed by his.
He, in turn, presses each piece to the door to seal it, smoothing it together.
We make fire.
Radiation from firebox door, and I turn to warm each side
Peer into the air intakes; embers glow, flame alights
Smell of heat, of wood burning; I taste it
Lean on the kiln, listen to wood crackle
Sit on a log, gaze into the night; the longer I look, the more I see
Stars are but an idea in the land where city glow rules the night sky
Pre-dawn, feel hidden from the world, at the bottom of a green bowl
We have abandoned technology in favor of a simpler life. We make fire.

Chill turns to frost. We add layers, we grow the fire.
Move our chairs farther, make hot coffee.
Gaze, stand and walk through the night, stoke
Blast of heat from a white-hot bed of embers
As I add wood, the intensity becomes painful; I'm glad to close the glowing door.
Return to sitting, gazing, radiant heat
All is still. We don't speak; perhaps we don't think.
Gaze, stoke

All returns to silence.

written: 4 May 08

Invigoration

2008-10-13T18:14:00.001-05:00

Another old post, originally written 15 Sept 07; a year and a month ago. Has it been so long?

This morning and afternoon I attended a workshop with Meredith Brickell, a ceramic artist who lives in Raleigh, NC. Her show at Lill Street opened today, but many pieces were already purchased after a week in the gallery (the new owners will be allowed to pick them up in a month when the show closes).

It was super cool and fantastic and I learned a bunch of new things.

It's hard to explain what about it makes me so excited. She was pretty cool. The workshop-mates were cool. Meredith worked with a practiced ease. I get the sense that she showed us some things that answer questions I hadn't yet figured out how to ask, somehow shaving months or more off my learning curve.

But aside from the immediately practicable skills, there was hope. Ideas on how to keep practicing clay at home, how perhaps to keep my ceramic practice going at home. She went to school and practiced graphic design for several years before going back to school for ceramics.

With the cost of clay rising, I feel like that might be an inhibiting factor... so doing electric firings is more cost effective from a firing standpoint, and lets me buy clay cheaply. Was I really worried about the cost of clay? Now I TA for wheel classes; this buys me a bag of clay every week, if I want to make so much work.

In addition to demonstrating many of her techniques, she also shared glaze recipes and talked about her process. She worked with confidence and is a gifted teacher, sharing many small tips and tricks that she's discovered, and gave general encouragement and guidance.

Small Lessons

2008-10-13T13:50:00.001-05:00

I wrote this four months and a week ago, found it again, thought it worth sharing, maybe only for my benefit:

I had to copy a handful of comments, by hand, from the master submittal markup (it was a door submittal, which is the most detailed and complicated submittal that most projects will have) onto five more copies. It would take a couple of hours. Instead of being impatient to finish, I decided to enjoy doing the lettering by hand. And I did, and had a most pleasant afternoon.

Was tempted to respond to my PM's criticism with sarcasm, realized it would do a lot of harm and in the end, no good. So on several occasions in the next few days, I managed to not even spend time thinking of a good comment (that I could then keep to myself). Surely that was better for all involved.

Attachment

2008-10-13T12:36:00.004-05:00

Another old one, from late July 2007. My God, I've suffered from this for so long. That's at an end, now, work's become fun. The post feels unfinished, but the seed of the thought is worth having.

On the professional front, I find that I'd like to not care about the quality of design, but can't. It's a losing battle because I'm probably the person who cares most, but has to answer to everybody. Yeah, sure, it's just a job, but it could (and arguably should) be done a whole lot better. I actually lose sleep over this stuff. I thought that maybe my time and skills could be bought (arguably the whole concept of employment), but they're not paying me enough that I can lay aside the need to find a really good solution. From a moral standpoint, one could argue that it's good to not sell out... but every morning I'm a little more tired.

This brings me to the section where I spiral, again, to wondering if I can have better control over things. What I'd really like it to be a designer - from making clay things to conceptual architectural design - and for people to value this enough that I can make a living.

Large scale sculpture and public sculpture remain possibilities. I make work, follow and refine each concept, sometimes lay it aside for a year, a couple of years. The interest is in exploring the idea, in the discovery. Unlocking the puzzle and making those pieces that sing is only one step...

Tired

2008-10-13T12:36:00.002-05:00

I started this post on the 7th of September... 2007. A year and a month and a week later, and I'm still tired. This should tell me that something's not right... but I'm not so tired, not nearly so tired. It's shifted only in the last couple of weeks. The problem isn't the job, though; it's my approach, it's how much I love and how much I care. Which is also why I'm so good. But I reached a point on my most emotionally taxing project where I let go of it. I just let go, because I couldn't save it, it's far too late, and I am worth more than that beautiful building. Fuck. Since that time, two of the senior staff have left the firm, two of the young'uns have left the firm, and we've picked up two new young'uns. Dear Ben. His insight has been invaluable, and he's one of the ones that left.

And now his mantle's on my shoulders, as project manager. And I am; the reality became startlingly clear today. The owners are billing out on my projects in the amounts I tell them to. I am the PM.

Well, I started this post on the 7th, and now I'll wrap it up, though it won't really be finished.

The burning question is, "why am I so tired?" Finally took the chance of declaring my ongoing exhaustion to half the office (the half that was there) - 1 of 2 owners, 1 of 3 senior staff, all us young'uns (3, self included). Everyone was sympathetic, having run into the same thing, sometimes constantly. Kind of a funny comment to end the birthday cake gathering, but, whatever.

The problem? Architecture is a mentally taxing profession! Part of it is that the way we work is often unsuited to the task at hand. We need time alone to concentrate on tasks, and are besieged by phone calls. "The design problems cannot be solved between phone calls," Ben aptly put it at a staff meeting some weeks ago. That's part of the problem.

Another part of the problem is that thoughtfulness isn't much demanded. I want my job description to be "architectural design" as opposed to "architectural services".

Obviously the solution is to vie for more satisfying work assignments, and less time in the office to allow more time for the things that I do love. We'll see how that pans out.

For my birthday, I went skydiving.

2008-10-13T09:05:00.000-05:00

Originally written 7 September 2008

First the ride up (and that was extra fun because my tandem jumpmaster was goofing around and I retaliated). Then seeing people jump out of a *perfectly good airplane* one after the next, and then going ourselves. Freefall, get oriented, do the checks, fall some more, pull, then a long lazy canopy flight. Sightseeing, some sharp turns for fun, more sightseeing, and the return to earth, sliding in feet first.

Wonderful.

Brush with greatness

2008-10-12T11:09:00.000-05:00

From February 6, 2007.

Today's daily peace quote reminds me of one person in particular.

In the second semester of my final year of architecture school, I had the priviledge and pleasure of being instructed for two weeks by Australian architect Glenn Murcutt. This is a guy worth imitating. One-man firm with a waiting list of years and a Pritzker prize (architecture's greatest honor) to his name. At the same time, he's a delightful and kind person, an honest critic who showed the greatest respect to his students. My project got off to a very slow start: much to my surprise, he told the class, jurors, and observers at the end of our two weeks that he first was afraid he was going to lose me. And then he ended with sincere and wonderful complements to my project.

Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Smart people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.
- Mark Twain

Normally I stay out of politics

2008-10-01T12:58:00.003-05:00

But this was too funny not to share. Check out the full article at WSJ here.

House Republicans share the blame, and not only because they opposed the bill by about two-to-one, 133-65. Their immediate response was to say that many of their Members turned against the bill at the last minute because Ms. Pelosi gave her nasty speech. So they are saying that Republicans chose to oppose something they think is in the national interest merely because of a partisan slight. Thank heaven these guys weren't at Valley Forge.

(emphasis mine)

Update, as I've been trying to figure out what the hell's going on outside my head: read this letter (PDF format) from a healthy bank. (Purportedly. I haven't tried to check the veracity. Found the link via a fool.com discussion.) Kinda the other side of the bailout coin.

Where are we? What the hell is going on?

2008-09-26T13:10:00.003-05:00

The opening lines of Imogen Heap's "Hide and Seek" do seem appropriate.

A lot of changes afoot in my own life. The worst part is the first part - where intuition is a universe beyond logic, and the self consequently finds itself divided when presented with the situation. First it's only obvious that something's wrong. Then the division must be found and understood... often not an easy thing, it's always some manner of bad news. Then there's the change to be instituted, and then the new situation to be gotten used to.

But we're past part one and even part two, the institution of change. Things are starting to come together, logic is catching up, things are making sense. It takes time. I'm also very thankful for some conversations with several really wonderful friends, for their thoughtful and sometimes forceful responses to my ramblings. It helps.

Don't Postpone Joy

2008-09-07T08:43:00.002-05:00

Someone discussed my title phrase, found on a bumper sticker, on their own blog. Her name was Joy, so for her it was a reminder not to dally, as well as not to put off the good stuff.

Of course, it's the time-balance thing again. But I'll be happier if I play more, so I'm going to do a little less office work, or at least start my day a little earlier, so I have more time to do ceramics during the week evenings. Then on the weekends I can go play for a day, if I like.

Yesterday I went skydiving. It may become a habit. (It will, if I can afford it.)

This morning I returned a friend's call. We're going to get our kayaks and head out to the river and catch up on things, just as soon as I can get some breakfast.

Yes, I need to get to the studio. But, first things first. Playtime.

I miss play.

2008-09-05T16:55:00.001-05:00

A few things have reminded me of this.

First, I spent some time talking with a friend a couple of weeks ago. Suddenly, as we laughed about something, he said, there's that twinkle again! He likes the impish twinkle in my eye. (Okay, impish is the wrong word, but I'm at a loss for the right one.) And I love the smile that lights up his face, which returned around the same time. At least for a few minutes. Summer's been wearing on both of us.

Second, one of my coworkers and I will sometimes goof around. It's always something that wouldn't be funny in writing, but in the moment, it gets him smiling. He has these sweet lines around his eyes when he smiles - signs it's not an unfamiliar expression. It hasn't happened much this summer, but we do still occasionally connect for a few seconds here and there.

Third, my favorite structural engineer has been unhappy lately. He likes to complain, but it's been the frustrated type as opposed to the good natured type. He's not usually like that, which is why I call him Sunshine. I miss my happy engineer.

Fourth, one of my studio mates has had a lot of stress in his life, his finances as well as his finance suddenly quitting her job (and not immediately finding another). He hasn't been himself in awhile.

Life seems to be heavy on everyone, these days.

little things

2008-09-04T00:25:00.002-05:00

in particular, i'd like to note the disfunctionality of the toilets in my life.

toilet at home: has been fixed by landlord. made it worse. have to hold the lever down to empty the tank. water doesn't swirl normally, it sloshes as it swirls. takes ages to fill, and loudly. sometimes the flapper gets stuck, and one must return to toy with the lever.

toilets at work: one routinely needs to be flushed twice. seriously. anything beyond a wayward glance heads in its direction and it declines to empty itself. putting a sign up in the stall at least brought the problem to others' attention, eliminating the problem of walking in and seeing a partly-flushed toilet.

other toilet at work: usually works fine, but some days it declines to develop adequate pressure and also requires a second flush. seriously, some days it couldn't handle a facial tissue being tossed in.

neither of these are particularly pleasant because they both have flush valves rather than tanks. i guess i'm just not a fan.

then there are the toilets at the studio. the downstairs bathroom tends to be dusty so i often go upstairs if i need to change clothes. it takes fully five minutes for the tanks to refill, despite the sinks having adequate water pressure. oh, and none of the stall doors actually latch correctly, so if not held shut (a folded tissue makes a good wedge), the doors swing open. that's also rather special.

then the ones downstairs. they look like normal tank toilets, but inside, they are not. they flush like flush valve toilets with the dramatic high-pressure rush of water, but then make horrible noises as they refill. it's truly unpleasant.

so i do appreciate that all three toilets in my parents' house are in perfect working condition. i visited the family over the weekend.

i also appreciate that, after three weeks off the bike, i pounded out 35 miles on rolling terrain, upwind both ways, like it was nothing. cruised along at 20-22 the whole time, as good or better than my path pace when i was bike commuting. that one is a little harder to explain.

thoughts, insights, perhaps in the style of woolfe.

2008-08-26T13:34:00.000-05:00

there is only so much time in the day, i work architecture for the paycheck. clay is the new obsession, it seems. other things have been before. i throw everything at it - all my time, all my thought, all my energy. i want all of it, all knowledge, all depth, all breadth. i dream about it, and my spare thoughts go there while i am elsewhere. i've had flings - with one person or another, with one interest or another - where that becomes my primary object of interest. everything else becomes an aside, becomes less important than my current object of desire. but to what end? i seek fulfillment, but at some level of intimacy with any object i find that it, too, in the end, is empty.

i am unsteady. i immerse myself in emptiness. nothing else exists. i am dead.

i seek to experience, to experience everything. i love the cool night air and waves crashing and stars overhead, curl of smoke, the sweetness of cloves on my lips. i love lazy mornings, sun filtering in, breeze caressing my face and i slowly awaken. i exist in the moment of existence; the last moment is already gone, i am only in the present, the next moment does not exist. i follow my whims, i touch, i laugh, i explore. i am impish, a trouble-maker, i seek to surprise people and make them laugh. i laugh in surprise, myself. pain is only a sensation, a sudden twinge brings a gasp before a smile. it makes me feel alive. clouds move swiftly across the sky, invisible breeze; time passes quickly and i wait for salvation, awaken the dawn, haunt the night with my searching. and the answer is immediate, closer than my skin, infinite as the sky, it is this, there is no more, and this is enough.

then the moment passes and i am searching again.

Tonight

2008-08-26T00:26:00.003-05:00

Tonight I went and had a smoke by the lake,
absorbed myself in the sound of the waves -
easterly breeze bringing them in one after the next over the sandbar -
looked at the stars,
and felt a little better.

On the 16th I fired my August kiln. Rough firing for me and for the kiln. But I'm not displeased with the results. Photo below is the work I had in.

This is what I do. This is what I love.

The awe of being alive.

2008-08-19T08:20:00.001-05:00

When did you last experience it?

Oh yes, I did.

2008-08-17T19:11:00.002-05:00

Write a condition assessment on a cookie. And it was amusing enough that I share it here for your amusement.

Sample size: approx 4" dia, 1/4-3/8" tall.
Color: dark brown.

Shape is a roundish form typical of a partially fluxed irregularly shaped ball of material. One edge is compressed slightly, possible evidence of spatular removal from cooking surface. Edges are slightly crisp and pleasantly chewy. Interior is softer, with chocolate chips. Moisture content is such that the cookie breaks apart easily in to large pieces with few small crumbs. Spanning capabilities are poor; the cookie requires edge and center support to avoid deflection to failure. Stiffened edge contributes structural stability. Chocolate chip distribution is moderate, approx. (1) chip per square inch. Flavor is full, rich, dark, sweet. Sample is slightly oily to the touch, most noticed after prolonged contact.

Recommended for consumption with peppermint tea.

One approach.

2008-08-15T20:30:00.001-05:00

What does one do when in crisis? Find some conversation that tends to circle around the heart of things, in hope of shedding some light on universal truth, and letting that work its way into the particulars of whatever question has been laid aside, waiting for understanding to develop. At least that's my take on it.

Excerpt: School of the Obvious

2008-08-01T23:33:00.003-05:00

"Touch is a healing thing," he said. Maybe his arm was still around my shoulders. I forget. "You don't want to touch, you don't want to heal." We were discussing something entirely different at an hour entirely too late when my phone rang.

It takes a lot of love these days.

The world is not a cold dead place

2008-07-24T12:17:00.004-05:00

The world is not a cold dead place,
is it?

Do you know?

Is life forever alone? No matter how well known or dearly held one might be, in the end we are alone,
aren't we.

And any euphoria,
and any bliss,
and any pain,
passes.
Beyond that, there is what is.

Sweet, but until then I am confronted with life, and all its appearance of reality.
To pass through with some lightness, some joy, leaving some beauty in my wake.

All these are as distractions, overlaid on the ground of being.
Still, silent, impenetrable, alive, intimate,
and yet, alone.

A week and a day ago, Roy (named here for my reference) made a comment about the awe of being alive. It's only sharpened the edge, given some teeth to what brews beneath the surface. Off center, out of balance, and pressing on in the dark... mostly, it seems, to survive.

More Talking

2008-07-13T22:06:00.003-05:00

I know the saying is less talking, more doing. Well, I'm doing and doing and doing lately, so time for more talking.

If you haven't been reading design-realized lately, you should. If you like clay, or just want to see what I do when I'm not at work. I've been doing a lot of work in the last few months and am finally catching up with the updates. And (if you are so moved) I do enjoy getting comments.

Today I had company for the second weekend in a row. Another cookout, this time vegetarian, shish kebab. Friends brought tofu, marinated veggies, mango (tasty!) dumplings for dessert. I baked a ridiculous amount of pita and made cucumber salad and hummus. Yes, I'm proud of my food-making skills.

And, several weeks ago I made mention of the notion of going to grad school. This resulted in several thoughtful comments, and thank you all. Which brings me to the longer part of my post; musing in response to those.

There's more to life than grad school - there's the thing that comes after. Teaching and making, I think, would be it. There's no sure thing, there, so I might be wise to keep my foot in the architectural door. Or I might be hedging, who knows.

And there's more to life than work. Right now I work in architecture, and my spare time goes to clay, and I barely have a moment for friends, family, cycling, paddling, sailing, vacations. And when I make that time, it's at the expense of something, and that something is never the thing I'd be happiest to skip out on - work!

I've been considering what exactly it is that maeks me happy, or at least defines a good day. It's a combination of challenges and easy productivity, and of creativity and logic. Plus some time to just exist - mentally if not physically relaxing - outdoors, but sometimes indoors, like if I have a good book to read. Maybe it doesn't have to be in a day, but to include all these in each week, at least, is wise.

Greenfrog asked we ever working on anything other than our souls?

I suppose he thinks the answer is no. On one level, I'm inclined to agree. Although I know it's all part of the process, at the same time I am okay with being itchy to change things, as opposed to continuing on the present path, going with the flow, and making a minimum of effort to change the course of things.

Hayden said it well, change often feels like one is throwing oneself under the train, but - the alternative is suffocation.

This week at work I realized that I am a project manager. It's challenging enough, so I'm not bored. But I'm also not finding it to be particularly fulfilling. Seeing my design work come to life - clay or architecture - is much more fulfilling. So yep, I'm a designer at heart. And in clay, there's a lot more of that than in architecture. It's the nature of the thing.

I watered the garden this evening

2008-07-07T22:44:00.002-05:00

I watered the garden this evening; it smelled right.
Last night and today I'm reading Norris' "Dakota";
tomorrow the reading shall continue.
It makes me dream of other places, bigger skies, dreams fulfilled,
and makes me wonder if I'd miss the city.

Two, Wait, No, Three Things

2008-07-05T08:41:00.006-05:00

1) It's not an emerald ash borer, it's a six-spotted Japanese something-or-other. It's also like Where's Waldo. Click for fullsize.

2) I'd like to have a space like this. A lot.

3) My maximum speed on Thursday's morning ride was 30.4 mph, achieved on flat land. But with a wicked tailwind. But it was still awesome.

Let the bloodletting begin.

2008-07-01T21:22:00.004-05:00

Mine, that is. Got a vicious mosquito bite while weeding my little garden the other day.

I like having a garden. It gives me something outside to go play with. Over the weekend I bought and fed it some Miracle Grow.

Took me about five minutes too long to get the camera out and snap a photo, so, yes, this has a flash. Bunny fencing (they destroy everything, I feel badly for the hostas), corn, soybeans, basil, and a couple varieties of tomato. Oh, and the weeds. I'm making my way slowly through those. I might add a few pavers for some for-sure-safe spots to step. Indoors I have several pots of thyme, which I'll use for cooking.

Idealism, Unhappiness, Indecision.

2008-06-29T23:27:00.005-05:00

Despite removing the description from my blog some number of months ago, I find that I'm still an idealist. Sure, I can give up on it, but for me there's something not right about giving in anything shy of the best it can be. I make lasting contributions to the world; the best is the only way to go.

I'm not incredibly happy with life as it is, and I pretty much know what I'd be giving up to chase something else. But I haven't the slightest idea where that gamble would lead. So in this scenario I leave architecture to go for grad school. Well, the grad school life would likely rock. Architecture school was great, after all. But what after that? No clue. Whole life in an upset.

Compared to the current life including a lot of known factors. It's a huge gamble. I need a change in life; maybe I'm not convinced that a total upset is the answer. Quite a few people I know are going that route lately, or thinking about it. Another has realized she's not particularly happy with her career, though sometimes it's adequately engaging, and hasn't decided what to do about it. And another of my friends is about to move back to Singapore after almost ten years in Chicago and the States. Who knows if it'll go well; maybe the grass is greener, maybe not. What's a girl to do?

Answer

2008-06-25T11:22:00.001-05:00

What we are looking for is what is looking.
- St. Francis of Assisi

That which you are seeking is causing you to seek.
- Cheri Huber

These Peace Quotes from earlier in the week remind me of comments by Matt Long in the master class I took the-week-before-last. He said that when we asked a question, when we found the answer we'd find that the answer was in asking of the question, that the question is the answer. St. Francis' words also remind me of Adyashanti.

The master class was wonderful. Getting up in the morning and working in clay all day was wonderful. I began some really good work, garnered serious praise from Matt, enjoyed and cared about what I was making. It's kind of hard to hang on to all that, or even remember what happened, after being plunged back into everyday work, where my best, most energetic, and most productive hours are taken by architecture, can't be preserved for clay, where I'd really like to use them.

Off the mountaintop and back into the valley, I guess. But I can't help but notice that I was happier that week than in the surrounding ones.

Afternoon Thoughts

2008-06-23T15:29:00.001-05:00

There's a remarkable sense of otherness, lately, about even the most familiar people.

I know I know you, yet every time we interact, it's as though for the first time. I recognize familiar habits, coughing to clear your throat, a face you always make. And yet you are as a stranger. And then the spell breaks and it's you and I again, playing out one of our usual interactions, actors in a familiar scene. But is it really us? I wonder if I'm losing my mind. This should be more familiar.

Truth and authority, dreams and experience.

2008-05-11T23:00:00.006-05:00

"They must find it difficult, those that take authority as truth, instead of truth as the authority."

Nothing else has quite so neatly encapsulated my largest, erm, objections, with religion.

In other news; a couple of weeks ago I spent the weekend firing a wood kiln. I enjoyed several interesting conversations with one fellow firer, which circled around ways of seeing and experiencing. The conversations made me reconsider the notion of astral travel. He's been playing in other realms, he said, for so long that sometimes he doesn't know if he's here or there, without checking. The notion is one I had considered and discarded because, well, it's not real.

While completely overlooking the concurrent thought that this realm isn't real, either. Well, is and isn't, but that's beside the point. I again set the thing on a back burner.

As if to insist upon the point, a daily quote from the same week: "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." Poe.

Huh.

So I wondered, why not have fun in dreaming? My dream life tends to be a bit more fantastic than this one; I wouldn't mind if the present would fall into step, rather than the other way around. In any event, the question's back on the table.

Oh, and it seemed that somebody was looking for me last night. By the by.

a greeting

2008-05-01T11:18:00.000-05:00

"be the ocean where it meets the sky"

"be the magic in the northern lights"

"be the river as it rolls along"

"be the rain and remember falling"

meant to post that for awhile.

Moments

2008-04-29T20:29:00.003-05:00

Looking at someone again and again to soak in some ineffable change in countenance.

Reading a book that's like paddling on swells in the lake.

Listening to a coworker laugh over something so stupidly ridiculous that most people would be frustrated, until tears nearly ran down his face.

Sitting comfortably in my drafty 60-degree house (apartment) because of four beautiful and comfortable garments, a good pair of socks, and my trusty slippers.

Flipping into a magazine, finding a print ad, a photo that I want to live in, that I had seen before and forgotten.

It's not that I've had nothing to share lately. I don't know that anybody reads; of those that read, that any understand. Heck, I can't describe what any of that is like; I spent most of a 45-minute train ride sitting with one of those experiences, (or the sense of it or my memory of it, but to say I sat with the experience itself is yet somehow closer to the truth) - with a few sentences in "The Waves" interspersed here and there; after all, I meant to spend the time reading - still couldn't get more than a stumbling phrase around it, a perfect phrase, that nobody may understand except me. What do I say? "You feel great" is the closest I can get to a thought on something, and it's so accurate yet so imprecise that the only time it'll be understood is in the moment before the brain grabs onto a percieved misuse of language - and are most people even capable of dwelling in that moment for long enough to register it?

I percieve thusly. How does anyone else percieve me? The people that see me frequently, and what of those whose only window into my world is the one I draw? How does it seem?

I-74, Peoria, IL: Julie rocks the camera.

2008-04-22T13:22:00.010-05:00

The day I shot this highway ranks among the most fun work days I've had.

Eye level with the roadway.

Green grass, blue sky, bridge.

Wide angle on an underpass.

A bit of everything: retaining wall kicked in, two kinds of form liners, light bollard, railing, and a nice composition.

Juxtaposition: articulated sound wall, roadway, ramp.

Juxtaposition, again: light bollard, stepped fence, high-mast lights, bridge.

Under the big bridge.

Light bollard, leading lines.

Juxtaposition 2.

Wishbone bridge.

High mast lights.

Articulated sound wall, residential side.

Equipment: Fuji DSLR with Nikon lenses; 12-24mm, 28-70mm, and 70-200mm. There's something very satisfying about the sound of a shutter.

Three Paragraphs

2008-04-15T21:41:00.003-05:00

I have much, perhaps, to communicate. But, despite a facility with words, few seem to understand what they mean. Words mustn't always be read with the mind; there are other ways of knowing and reading.

When asked about my artwork, I'm often at a loss for words. Pick something I've made. It's an object. There are concepts integrated into that object that interest me. But this isn't meant to be an intellectual exercise. Most often it's about the experience of creating, the experience of interacting, how the concepts that interest me play into the final object. The object is something that can be appreciated and discovered long after it's acquired.

Today I recieved a somewhat frantic phone call from the GC with a poorly concieved question. After considering the situation, it seemed best to talk to the roofer after explaining the situation to my PM. When my PM returned, he'd already spoken to the roofer and worked everything out. What interests me was that my PM said simply, "I trust the guy."

Nice to find that somebody's said so!

2008-03-28T08:40:00.001-05:00

You can only find truth with logic if you have already found truth without it.
- G. K. Chesterton

A passing revelation

2008-03-18T20:00:00.006-05:00

I have a thought on how to describe, at least in part, what happened two years ago. Suddenly I began experiencing what I was experiencing, and not some mind-mediated mixture of what I was experiencing and what I was expecting to experience. Suddenly divorced from any grasp of expectation, the whole world becomes as new, and I found that things aren't at all as they had seemed, as I had expected them to be.

Not that I can remember the train of thought that led me to finding those words, only that I was walking to the train.

A related post at Isaiah Knows [Nothing]

A related post at Frimmin.

And yet life goes on.

2008-03-06T12:11:00.002-06:00

I am the universe? I accept it at a working hypothesis. Lots of people whom I respect have ended up there, each taking his own route; and it seems to make sense of more of the facts on the ground better than other theories and metanarratives I've encountered: those of exoteric religion, materialism, &c. For me, the question has shifted to what you do with that information once you've had enough of reading Ken Wilber waxing rhapsodic about it, and Alan Watts making incisively clever observations about it, and Zen Buddhists coming up with striking metaphors about it. To notice what actually seems to be going on, and how life is, and is experienced. I mean, at the end of it all, I still live my life, Tuesday follows Monday, and Wednesday Tuesday, as Woolf writes in "The Waves," and I have no interest in simply shouldering a belief for its own sake, or in replacing one dogma with another. What do I actually experience when I drop all givens and preconceived notions, and simply experience whatever I happen to be doing in the moment, whether cutting the skin off a piece of slimy raw chicken or sitting at the computer or running on the treadmill? That's what I'm interested in, and then, by extension, in what conceptual framework makes the best sense of it; and in what enhances it (the preference for beauty over ugliness, for creativity over stagnation, for intelligence over stupidity, etc.). One still has to get up every morning, work, interact with people, etc. Make decisions about how to invest, what to be when one grows up.

Somebody else's words, title mine, emphasis mine. Mind the important part: the rest can flesh out the thought, or may distract from it.

My $.02 on the tax system

2008-03-04T15:07:00.003-06:00

The tax system needs an overhaul.

Instead of blaming the wealthy for taking advantage of every legal method of paying less tax, perhaps the blame should go to the lawmakers who created such a convoluted system.

Earn more money, pay a greater percent: from each according to his earnings? Sounds a little socialist, no?

I can think of nothing just in the government being entitled to more of my hard-earned money just because I earn more than somebody else.

Macro View

2008-03-01T10:42:00.000-06:00

Everything is beautiful and silly and passing. What's left after the passing of our insignificance? I had hoped for so much more; I had hoped that something matters.

I don't understand hatred.

2008-02-17T09:52:00.004-06:00

I don't understand hatred. Honestly, it just confuses me. Even more confusing is hatred in God's name. (Christ refused to condemn people, after all.) I don't normally deal here witih current news events: and post-wise, I'm sorry to follow something beautiful with something rather less likely to induce serenity. But both exist in the world, and sometimes both are worth mentioning.

NIU Shootings and Westboro Baptist Church

This two-minute video is worth watching. The young man who made it, in my opinion, made an admirable choice with the tone and direction of his message. If the hypothetical incident occured, would WBC, as they have other times, interpret one person's violent actions as God's judgement against them?

Provisionally Untitled

2008-02-12T14:03:00.002-06:00

An Excerpt On Housing

2008-02-02T18:04:00.000-06:00

Your investment is the sum of your buying price plus the interest you've paid on the loan at the time of the sale.

Your remaining debt is the amount of the loan still owed to the lender.

When you sell, there are four possible outcomes:

1) The selling price is greater than your investment and greater than your remaining debt. You've made money.

2) The selling price is less than your investment and greater than your remaining debt, and:

(a) the difference is less than the cost of renting for the same period, so you are still ahead versus renting

(b) the difference is more than the cost of renting for the same period, so you effectively paid higher rent in exchange for it being Yours

3) The selling price is less than your investment and less than the remaining debt, so you are paying to be rid of the place.

That's the straight financial end, the part that I think people don't accurately calculate. Common wisdom certainly defies it. I admit that there's no accounting for the intangibles, to which everyone assigns a different monetary value. (You may end up saying, well, it's expensive, but it's worth it. That's fine.) But without truly considering the situation, how can anybody make an informed decision?

Overheard: on the sublime.

2008-01-22T12:54:00.000-06:00

[Memory serves poorly at best to string together the conversation that occurred, as I was in the room briefly and for another purpose. So I present to the reader a group of comments, as best I remember them.]

On the sublime.

That an artist, really, is speaking another language. And yet by some mystery we'll pass judgment on something we've never seen before in a mere five minutes, or even just a glance.

But we couldn't decide to love or hate another country after the first two hours there; at that point we've barely experienced it. It takes time to become in tune with ways, culture, language.

A challenge; to spend a whole hour with a piece one enjoys.

[This calls to mind the notion of meditating on something.]

A comment by a person who often spends five or ten minutes, this time spent twenty and was astonished and happy at what came of it, what new subtleties were discovered.

[This also calls to mind a favorite bowl. When I first saw it I was repelled by the apparent sloppiness, and illustration of a supermarket shelf. But as I saw it subsequently I became intrigued, and bought the bowl when it was for sale. It continued to intrigue me even as I came to appreciate the subtleties; this is not a piece easily grasped. But the time spent together becomes the key for appreciating it.]

Chuang-Tzu - and Julie, too.

2008-01-18T12:56:00.000-06:00

The purpose of a fish trap is to catch fish. When the fish are caught, the trap is forgotten.
The purpose of a rabbit snare is to catch rabbits. When the rabbits are caught, the snare is forgotten.
The purpose of words is to convey ideas. When the ideas are grasped, the ideas are forgotten.
Where can I find a person who has forgotten words? That person is the one I would like to talk to.

Another translation:

The fish-trap is a tool to catch fish. Once the fish is caught, the fish-trap is forgotten. A rabbit-snare is a tool to catch rabbits. Once the rabbit is caught, the snare is forgotten. Language is a tool to hold ideas. Once ideas are conveyed, language is forgotten. Where on earth could I find a person who has forgotten words to have a word with him?

I want this post to be about what's conveyed, but add here a word of discussion. The second quote is provided because I suspect it's truer to the original, and that the first was mistyped. But the first quote has a little bite - which I enjoy and find humorous - so I prefer the first version.

Association

2008-01-16T19:08:00.000-06:00

Found:

Where does one moment end and another begin? To me there are no such divisions. We attempt to freeze time but actually time is like flowing water. We say, "Here is the Mississippi River" or "here is the Atlantic Ocean." But the water pays no mind to our silly little divisions. It flows where it will and is always in a state of oneness. Time is the same. Any divisions are artificial devices, illusions. Just ask yourself, "When does one moment end and another begin?" What can possibly separate time from itself? - Nigel Thompson

And thought of this, which to my mind has the same sense as the above:

For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Excerpt, Revised:

2008-01-16T15:50:00.001-06:00

"Yet I daily jump into the senseless fray, hoping for a few moments to brush up against a more meaningful reality, to create something lasting that kisses that great silent ocean."

A Gift

2008-01-12T10:21:00.001-06:00

(No need to overthink this one. It's a Clementine. Isn't that enough?)

Before

2008-01-10T16:41:00.000-06:00

Insight

2008-01-09T12:23:00.000-06:00

"Five senses; an incurably abstract intellect; a haphazardly selective memory; a set of preconceptions and assumptions so numerous that I can never examine more than a minority of them-never become even conscious of them all. How much of total reality can such an apparatus let through?"
- C. S. Lewis

(Today's Peace Quote)

The tendency of things to last.

2008-01-07T12:28:00.000-06:00

I am very happy to have at last completed my photo-making area. I was probably expecting something less bulky, with more finesse, but the current setup works well. Photos over at design-realized (links to right). Pretty spiffy, no?

More photos of a different sort to share; I was back up at my beloved Great Lakes building on Friday. This is the boathouse, built in 1904, architect Jarvis Hunt. They don't make 'em like this any more - solid masonry construction.

This is an old photo, from before the windows were taken out, parapets selectively destroyed, boats removed &c.

Upstairs at the far end from the above photo. Building has a concrete roof held up by a lot of these trusses... original 1904 wood floor now exposed. Really, I just love the space in here.

This used to be the utility room on the first floor, below the image above with the truss. Walls are gone and so are much of the guts, believe it or not. It's very dear. The front part of the building got a steam bath one weekend courtesy of a steam leak, so now all the paint's coming off. Dear, isn't it?

This is the original stair. You don't get that kind of detail on risers anymore. It's steel framed wood.

On the first floor, looking toward the back of the building. The original roll-up door fell into the water, so it's now boarded up. Again, love the space. The mezzanines used to be used to store boats, back when Navy recruits learned how to row.

As we left, we saw a doe, which stayed there as we walked by. What a relaxing place to be. But for some reason I live in the city. Riddle me that?

Return Trip / void - filled.

2007-12-27T12:31:00.000-06:00

Drive crests a hill, view opens into - and everything opens. Miles of fields, trees edging vast arc of sky. The space pulls together as one, vast infinite, and for passing moments I am that, too. Space opens inside and is the space I see, filled and empty at once. I drive on, observing all this, holding gently what is and what feels, expansiveness, and eventually it, as such, fades.

Silly lines on a wall

2007-12-25T23:11:00.000-06:00

This is a response to Zach's latest post. I encourage all to read the whole post, but here's the part you'll need to understand my post.

Once someone is at this point, an individual may see that God isn’t really there at all, but just some lines on a wall. What is present is a group of individuals, searching for what they already are. Most people don’t realize it and never will. A few will realize it and go crazy. A few will realize it and embrace it. The individual will realize he or she is free. Everyone is. There aren’t any rules, there’s no morality, just some silly lines on a wall. At this point, there’s no need.

Your second to last paragraph, inasmuch as my experience understands, is dead on, but still, I hope, partial. For myself, I find the freedom aspect to be daunting, as it seems to render existence meaningless. To quote Christopher Durang, "we can look into the abyss together" - I hope but am uncertain that there is more than that to be found. It appears that there's more, but it may be that at the bottom of the rabbit hole is that, again. At least in the interim is the joy of the chase, of discovery. It's something.

I suppose at some point one goes from searching for what one is to, having found it, trying to get a grasp of... it...

Torn

2007-12-20T17:47:00.001-06:00

About my art... it's not pretty in the conventional sense, but I believe in it, and the people who like it are often those whose work I respect anyhow. But it's not glossy jumping off the page like others' work, and that can get me a little insecure. Is it art or craft, anyway? That debate rages. I guess it depends upon one's definition of each. Some say that craft is something that's used, functional. I don't know. By the way, I fired a kiln for 22 hours on Sunday (and Monday morning). The results came out last night. Gorgeous. I'm proud, and it feels good that the guy who's been teaching me to fire the kilns is proud of me too. (Expect a design-realized update soon!)

About my social scenes... a frustrated and angry email somehow got into the hands of the person it was written about, who I used to be really tight with. She's intelligent and fun to hang out with, though, so the accidental wedge is a pain.

More attachment... meanwhile at the ceramics studio, the aforementioned firing guy is leaving Lillstreet after a year, and I didn't realize until tonight that the tear would leave a hole. It's like a death. Another guy's taking a year off from teaching, but he'll still be round and about. Both, great energy, great encouragement, pushing me to keep improving and experimenting, so I'll miss their presence.

About family... the stuff in this blog appears to part drastically from the Catholic faith (in which I was raised and in which I've been expected to remain). Now that my sister's on Facebook, how long 'till my blog's uncovered? I've changed my religious preferences on there like eight times, wanting to be both obscure and true to myself. ANXIETY. No matter how much they love me, they may never understand, never approve of, never accept, well, me, inasmuch as my perspective is integral to myself. That's not an easy thing.

About my job... I got a raise, but such mixed feedback that I still don't know if I'm doing all right. They say I'm doing well, but point out areas of inexperience in odd ways. Duh, I haven't done everything yet. And a cryptic comment about more committment (in terms of time) by a person who wasn't in the room when one of the owners said they are pleased with my level of committment... but the same person also said that I was working enough and that I was pitching in extra for deadlines as need be and doing fine. So I'm fine but they want more? Afterward, my questions to clarify the time committment indicated that fulltime with extra at deadlines as needed is fine. Which is what I've been doing. At this point I just don't care anymore. My free time won't be bought, I'll give it away (I am paid, but the money isn't nearly enough compensation) when I choose to, out of some sense of loyalty. The would-be-pleasant news of a raise is beyond negated by the confusion over what's expected of me. More anxiety.

And just to assure us all that things don't make people happy, I bought some pieces tonight that I liked, that have intrigued me, &c. They are nice to have around, and wonderful distractions, but the hole is still there.

I'm so cool.

2007-12-11T22:44:00.000-06:00

Today a tin of nuts and nut confections arrived at the office. Of course I had to sample it, and the chocolate cover on a square of cashew brittle immediately began to melt on my fingers as I nibbled tentatively, wondering if I could bite it apart or would have to eat the whole thing at once. My first thought upon observing the melting chocolate was that it must have a lot of low-melt flux in it.

I'm such a geek.

Some tidings gladder than others

2007-11-29T10:43:00.000-06:00

It's been more than a month, and though I've written missives and epistles to friends, I've had little to share here. This is partly a response to Andrew's latest post and partly digressions.

I.

I did know that Joyce was a man, though it took me several readings to catch the parody (I'd forgotten the original line). Walk in a forest and find out what those brutes do, untended; they drop leaves. I have fond memories of jumping into gigantic leaf piles; we had two large pin oaks, a pair of poplars, a pair of walnut trees. That's a lot of leaves.

But most of my memories are of burnt orange to brown leaves. This year, for whatever reason, is a yellow year. Yellow locust, yellow maple, yellow everything, gold everywhere on the ground. Left in the street they turn orangeybrown, but the sidewalks are yellow yellow yellow. It seems to me much cheerier and I'm quite enjoying the display.

It is my intention to have a yard not requiring mowing, and comprised of native prarie plants, and garden (which will, I know, require weeding).

II.

On the subject of Apple products, I've learned the hard way that laptop batteries last best when fully charged, then discharged, and not left sitting plugged in all day. It may be that the Apple guys new there were bad logic boards out there as well, and didn't tell me when I had my machine in for its tendency to unexpectedly turn itself off. I'm torn between selling the MacBook and buying another, or trying to get the current one repaired.

Relatedly, my desktop Windows machine died the day after Thankgsiving, so I'll need to buy a new one, as well as the software I use.

It's been a few days since all this started and I'm not so stressed over it, but the prospect of spending a couple (or more) thousand dollars unexpectedly is, nonetheless, annoying. I haven't decided what route to go; I'd like to do all my work sitting on the couch, but would be okay with rolling a desktop and LCD screen around to do so - the benefit being more computer for less money, and a whopping big LCD.

Before that began, I was looking into buying a Wacom tablet. Anybody use one?

On music: a friend (actually, the guy who came up with it) turned me on to songza.com and it's made for some fun at work. It's ridiculously easy to use, so check it out. Search for music you want, start playing, make a playlist, jam for hours. It makes me feel a bit more lively to have stuff playing, especially that I know and like; it also helps keep my brain busy, as part of it likes to sing along. Andrew aptly wrote of the world disappearing; the more it can be shoved away, the better.

And before all that began, studio headphones topped my Christmas list. I hate earbuds, and have a cheap pair of quasi-studio headphones at work; the artificial leatherstuff is flaking off so I have to check my face for black bits of plastic pretty frequently.

III.

There is that, life as liturgy. Though for the last few years I've felt rather disconnected from the liturgical calendar, finding that no holiday feels like itself, or often feels like a holiday, even. I wonder if I can look forward to this for the rest of my adult life, and the predictable conflict of family members that can't live and let live, and let everyone try to find his own way. Everyone's a sinner.

IV.

The idea of having favorite moments is a nice one; without major changes they'll be few, and too fleeting. Get up in the morning, drag in to work, do meaningless stuff all day... I can't help but wonder if the need to make work goes back as far as any other ritual. Whose work provides anything other than convenience? Few! The moment of escape only leads to What Other Damn Things I Have to Do Before Bed, far less frequently to finding Something Meaningful to do. It should be no wonder to anyone that the house is so infrequently cleaned, there are much more important things to be tended to than dust and cat fur. When is my life ever mine?

Why bother, Andrew asks? Because it means something.

Or really, because the anticipated effects are desirable. Maybe all that's meaningful is the hope for something more.

V.

It was nice to sit around on... Friday? Saturday? Sometime, the feline went nuts. He would try to toss things in the air and bat at them, apparently see something clear across the apartment and dash off, only to come back the next moment and go skidding around the corner to check the kitchen. These things are much funnier when they don't awaken me. And a couple days later I saw a really nice moon.

Paradigm

2007-10-17T13:25:00.000-05:00

With the quiet of late from the usual suspects, I'm missing the community and conversation that somehow materializes among the interwebs. It's been quieter for months, I think, though there was a more active patch in there, which was fun.

Granted, my activities have moved a bit away from socializing, due to a growing tiredness - just the crud; a bevy of vague and not-so-vague complaints that wear me down without keeping me in bed, though sometime I will just take a day off of work for the extra rest. Sick building syndrome may also be to blame: I've felt more lousy more often at this job than any other - and I ride my bike to work a lot, which theoretically should make my constitution closer to that of an equine. (Yes, I'm referring to the phrase "healthy as a horse".) This is under investigation. Nonetheless - haven't been out as much, haven't seen friends as much, haven't done a group ride in a couple months.

My thoughts often turn toward an analysis of trying to find a balance. Some days it's as though I'm the only one who's discovered that a lack of happiness is likely attributable to an imbalance. I've developed a language and tend to work at a generalized level of situational evaluation, and abruptly am speaking a language that's only familiar to sociologists. Expectations, attachments, lack of empathy, poor communication... I see perceived problems in the most general terms; only the specific circumstances seem to vary.

I can evaluate even that tendency. People have a tough time zooming out because they're too attached; re-evaluate and you may have to loose your position; doing that can threaten a person's ego and sense of identity.

I can't be the only one out there developing a sense of balance (which I now amusedly note I have not addressed), but perhaps I'm the only one with this approach to the bumps in the road.

Found in a sig

2007-10-04T22:44:00.000-05:00

The world is like a ride in an amusement park. And when you choose to go on it you think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. It has thrills, it's very brightly coloured, it's loud and it's fun, for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time and begin to question: "Is this real, or is this just a ride?" And other people have remembered, and they come back and say, "Hey, don't worry, don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride." And we kill those people.

Believing the best in people

2007-10-03T09:52:00.000-05:00

I just heard a quote on NPR:

"I call myself a born-again Christian. I believe that all people have a natural inclination to sin."

It made me realize pretty abruptly that I don't share that belief, which makes me wonder if I'm also opposing one of the central tenets of Christianity. Oops?

Not sure if that makes me optimistic, especially as I've also a good tendency toward cynicism. Heh.

Whatever. I've other things to do that are more interesting uses of energy.

Life as Practice

2007-09-26T19:59:00.000-05:00

My resopnse to Jon's post got lengthy, so it's over here instead.

Jon writes about procrastination - check out his post to see the course he's taking. Here's my multi-faceted response, describing how I've decided to approach it.

I'm with Jon on the "live in the moment" part, and at the same time understand how one can spend much time thinking about then or about later. Perhaps one way to go is to give oneself permission to plan, or permission to reminisce. "Okay, I'm going to work on planning out my week, and if I'm not done brainstorming and scheduling in fifteen minutes, I'll give myself another five to wrap it up." In other words, set limits. (This concept is adapted from somebody suggesting giving oneself permission to "be lazy".)

I'm not sure how to address the "I really ought to" part. There's the problem of not particularly enjoying doing some things... I think the anticipation ends up being much worse than the actual activity. That may be something that'll help you. Even going to the dentist, which I did today, was not so terrible. So I try not to adjust my anticipation to be closer to the reality, and try not to spend time anticipating.

But then there's the concept of guilt wrapped into the descriptions - or, I get the sense that there is. Procrastination and guilt can go hand in hand. I think it's pretty normal for guilt to try and creep in, and that the area of advancement is identifying it and chosing how to deal with it. My personal belief is that whatever one does is what's most important. Obviously cleaning the bathtub isn't too important to me, helping a coworker meet a deadline is more important than getting out of work on time. Paying my bills right when they show up doesn't matter, but keeping the hassle down by getting out the stamps and checkbook to do them all at once is (though this has resulted in more than one slightly-late utility payment.) And so on.

Last, I was going to ask Jon why procrastination is a problem? The real problem is that things don't get done on time. Why not? In my way of thinking, because they don't become a high enough priority. So maybe you could tackle the problem as one of priority instead.

The Chicken and the Egg

2007-09-25T09:30:00.000-05:00

The good life, as I conceive it, is a happy life. I do not mean that if you are good you will be happy - I mean that if you are happy you will be good.
- Bertrand Russell

The classic questions in Christianity - which comes first, man's will or God's grace? But I think Russell has it right, generally speaking.

It's also an indirect support of my preferred priorities - love people first, get that right, leave the judging for later.

Care

2007-09-13T20:16:00.000-05:00

In addition to Trev's latest post:

A really good architect said, if nothing else, to design with care, because even if your talent is nothing spectacular, the care will be evident and it will make the things you touch special.

Or something like that. And I think it's true. And hope that somebody will find it encouraging.

As an architect, I can tell when someone was architecting, that there was thought put into something. And even if it's kind of dumb (not in the sense of stupid, but the other sense) or unspectacular, it's something that I notice, and appreciate that somebody put some thought in, did what they could.

Marking another year

2007-09-06T13:37:00.000-05:00

I finally ordered some new books from Amazon, with a gift certificate that was about to expire. They arrived on my birthday:

Mother Theresa, actually, hasn't been shipped. But it was nice to come home from work and have a birthday present like that. Be Here Now has a bunch of brown-paper pages comprising the middle half of the book, and the book's square rather than the usual paperback size. The glaze book looks fantastic. And Annie Dillard and Kathleen Norris are two of my favorite authors.

A surf over to Exploding Dog revealed images with these captions on my birthday:

That was amusing. Gravely amusing, but amusing nonetheless. What might it all portend?

Yesterday evening, I went into Borders and learned that Chris Rice would be playing at lunch today. I can't bear his optimism these days but went anyway. It was soothing, and a relief from work. Like they say on the X-Files poster, "I want to believe". But I'm not one to force things.