I have always maintained that making time and space for solitude is important, and I could not agree more with Sherry Turkle’s explanation why…

“You end up isolated if you don’t cultivate solitude - the ability to be separate, to gather yourself. Solitude is where you find yourself so that you can reach out to other people and form real attachments.  When we don’t have the capacity for solitude, we turn to other people in order to feel less anxious, or in order to feel alive. When this happens we are not able to appreciate who they are. It is as though we are using them as spare parts, to support our fragile sense of self. We slip in to thinking that always being connected is going to make us feel less alone. But we are at risk because actually it’s the opposite that is true.  If we are not able to be alone, we are going to be lonely.”  

Man has access to the entire mind of the Creator, is himself the creator in the finite.

— 

I came across this quote last night in my reading for a course on drawing, pulled from Nature by Ralph Waldo Emerson. This quote was used in reference to the presence of the artist as the creator who embeds a sense of authorship, process, and even himself as the subject of the work. However, like most of the readings about drawing - relating to truth, perception, and self-reflection - I immediately apply it to life in general. I feel strongly that no answers in life can be answered by anyone but yourself. Each person holds “self-evident truths” that are so ingrained into the person they are, that to act upon another’s inclinations is a crime. Understanding another’s point of view, of course, is very different than putting into action their particular and subjective interpretation. After all they are calling on their own “self-evident truths” that are inherently different than your own. It is important to ask yourself questions and recognize your own perception of situations. This will affirm your understanding of your self as the Creator… one who puts in to action innate truths which will bolster, if not validate, the integrity of your finite solution. In architecture, knowing and constantly being aware of what you want to achieve, too, leads to an oeuvre that is consistently evolving over time towards a particular articulation of your own style. 

good friends are hard to come by… i like mine sharp, strong, balanced and slightly toxic… my desk at the moment while model-making… #toolsoflife

“SPORT… defines nations, defies gravity and denies prejudice” (via @janetesqe) 

impromptu 8 mile hike to the top of east rock with matt and chabla… amazing view of new haven on an amazing day!

my tennis skills have survived through architecture school…

Last night I played tennis with an old friend, Janet. We grew up competing in junior tournaments together in New York City/Upstate/Jersey area and then “against” each other in the Ivy League Conference - me at Brown, she at Yale. Now, she’s back working in New Haven after completing London School of Economics. She was an incredible player and had the most beautiful strokes. I had not picked up my racquet in over a year and warned her that I was very rusty. To my surprise, my strokes, footwork, timing and concentration were all well intact! I’ve learned so much being in architecture school that I truly wonder where these skills were being lodged! We got off to an awesome start without missing a ball. We got up to a hundred ball rally at one point and I was smiling the entire time. I am so happy we played and I am so fortunate to have tennis in my life. I’m curious… Has art/architecture always been your hobby? What was your passion before architecture/design? 

spring break: week one

My first week of my spring break was composed of tons of fresh fruit and veggies, yoga and running, and friends and family. I feel awesome! I am completely recharged to spend the remainder of the break back in New Haven trying to get ahead on my work. Being unplugged helped me regain my focus, reaffirm my goals and get pumped up for the rest of the semester/summer. It’s the same effect that my afternoon runs have on me. Taking time out of your day for yourself to meditate, read some fiction, or exercise does wonders for your health, both mentally and physically. I don’t mean go talk to your studio mate about where to eat dinner or about class work. Really take a break… alone. I find I return to my work with a fresh mind, more focus and tons of energy each time I take a break for myself. 

Architectural Terms… and what they really mean…

 ”Sense of Entry”

One hell of a week… but today, was pretty awesome. I woke up to take test on concrete beams, had a 30 minute break to clean my apartment and do laundry, returned to school for a three hour class on glass detailing, had a team meeting about building a house this summer, went for a six mile run, and then returned for a two hour symposium with Kevin Roche and Christopher Hawthorne. (funny quotes to come)

Those were all the things that I had planned and expected myself to do during the day. But, what came after was unexpected. I went to the usual post-lecture cocktail in the exhibition space and ran into my TA from last semester with a cluster of other students. For the next hour and a half we were completely engrossed in conversation about archi-politics, which led to dinner at a local sushi joint. What I loved about this evening, is that we were constantly talking about ways to improve our environment, whether through Yale specifically, or through our own stance on design. One fellow student has started a company based on potluck style dining experience for graduate students.  Students essentially create a community by sharing ideas over cooking and eating while enrolled in various graduate fields of study. Another student argued the value of free hand drawing and the increased failure to produce being a purely technologically dependent artist… ie the writer who can’t write without a computer… which is a bizarre realization. Another student criticized the “game-playing” politics involved in the critic-practitioner relationship.

While we were all passionate and sometimes upset about certain aspects of our “profession,” we all more or less spoke with an undertone that we care. We, as designers, care about the way people live their lives. We care that people get together, that they produce, and that they have integrity. I really can’t think of something I’d rather be doing than reinforcing those ideals. And, I truly believe design/ architecture is able to do that. 

To send my message home… after dinner, it was no question that we grab coffee on our way back to studio. There is nothing more than doing that can get you to where you want to be and what you want to accomplish. It was that moment when we all returned to school at 11:30pm on a Friday night, that I realized I was happiest. And now at 2am, I am still am excited about what I am doing and working towards.

it’s friday… so it’s time to recharge! 

enjoy this video about the evolution of humans as runners, excuse makers, and go for a long run… barefoot. 

“You know, it is life that is right and the architect who is wrong.”

- Le Corbusier

— 

When things seemed unfair, my dad would always say, “life is always right.” I thought it was a profound way of saying “don’t think that you deserve anything, you have to fight hard for what you want.” I always knew he got the words from Le Corbusier, but when I found the actual quote and read that it ended with “the architect is wrong,” I was a bit confused. When I showed him the quote, he gave me a slight smile, and strugged his shoulders without a word. That was years ago, and it’s only now that I can imagine him saying to me, “I know, and I made it right.”

The lesson learned is that things can seem unfair, hard, or impossible, but it is up to you to make them right. You have to make the opportunity. You have to look at failures and adverse conditions as character building situations that don’t define your weakness, but are catalysts for improvement. So whether it’s a missed promotion or a wipe-out on the ice, use it as motivation to work harder, or be more careful. Use what has been given to your advantage - even if it means chopping off the punchline of a quote, perhaps…

A short documentary by John Madere, in honor of the Vignelli Center of Design Studies. A priceless critique on design, beauty and life.

Vignelli Design is now on tumblr and twitter! 

Archi-life is a design project in itself…

Before matriculating in architecture school, all I heard was how grueling it was, how little sleep students got, and how students graduate with no increased opportunity of employment. I vow to change that perception. Yes, it is grueling. Yes I get very little sleep. And yes, I will probably have trouble finding a job when I graduate. But I do not want those things to define my time here. I have learned so much already from my courses and studio that I’d rather have my progress be the benchmarks during my time here. There is no reason to even think about school in a negative light because no good ever comes from it. Being positive is the key to staying focused on the long term goal and appreciating the opportunity you’ve been given. 

For some people, things just balance out naturally. I am not one of those super-people. So, like a design project, I have to design my time. I map out what needs to be accomplished in the day and am aware of how I spend my time in relation to what is actually getting done. I maintain a consistent work schedule as best I can, rather than base it around my deadlines. I cut myself off at 1am, and force myself to go to bed, even if I am in a groove. I wake up early and start fresh again. I eat regularly and healthily (thanks to my mini-fridge, the best investment yet). And, I also exercise in the evening to wake myself up for “round two.” A routine has allowed me to feel fresh every most days, organized, grounded, sane and human. It’s comforting knowing what to expect during the day and being prepared for it.

Finally, I write and post to my Tumblr blog. This has helped me reflect on my projects, put words to my scrambled thoughts, get positive feedback, quote some wacky statements, and at times, make fun of myself for further comic relief. It has been a great way for me to chronicle my progress, as well. For now, the studio is my shelter, my classmates are my family, my mini-fridge my means survival, and my blog my means to communicate the progress I am making, keeping me focused on the light at the end of the tunnel. And so far, it’s been fun! 

natural beauty - complementary colors on aged wood - at coffee o, cape cod

i contemplated the void last saturday, what did you do…?

the guggenheim exhibition, “interventions in the guggenheim museum” provided many interpretations of how artists and architects would redesign, add to, or take from the central atrium space. in addition to these interpretations, is the work of tino sehgal - which is more of an experiment in experience than a continuation of the tradition of visual exhibitions. instead, the spiral walls of the guggenheim are currently bare, minimizing distractions and increasing the capacity for contemplating the structure itself. however, at the base of the central rotunda, two dancers/performers express a “quasi-sculptural choreographed movement.” this tangled duo do a bit of slow sensual caressing and long smooches. (see image below)

as the viewer progresses up the ramp from the central atrium space, they also transition from studying two subjects to being the studied - from viewing the choreographed experience of the two performers, to literally becoming the subject of the artwork itself.

my experience: a chipper little blond girl came straight up to me and reecepacheco, shook my hand and asked, “what is progress?” guided up the first full rotation of the rotunda with her, i defined it as “the initiatives one takes while working towards a goal.” then she handed me off to another young boy. “does everything have to have a goal?” he asked. “yes,” i said in my defense. “so, is crashing a car during a drivers ed lesson progress?” he asked. “yes, as long as he learns from it.” two more rotations and two more series of questions and conversations later, i reached the pinnacle of the spiral promenade.

it was not until i was at the top that i realized i had missed contemplating the void! ironically, the only time the guggenheim was left empty in effort to encourage visitors to rethink the space, i had abandoned it. i let the questions distract me from what seemed to be the purpose. then i realized that this was the first time i had completely ignored the void. in all my previous visits to the guggenhiem, i always established a dialogue between what was hanging on the walls and the progress i was making up the ramp. having the rare opportunity to experience the museum entirely devoid of all artwork or visual interruptions, it’s hard to believe that i neglected to contemplate the walls or the void.

the little girl’s question now seems appropriate, and so does the boy’s question. the goal was to think critically about the space of the guggemheim, but i was too absorbed defining progress. i became a classic example of progress as it relates to one’s failure to focus when presented with diversions. i clearly was “progressing” through the structure physically, but abandoning my purpose mentally. that is the antithesis of progress. the most prominent advice in architecture and art today is to be in the present.