"I was timing reactions and you kept them amused for four minutes," our professor stated at the end of the last review, "then you crashed and grilled."
Crashed and grilled? We collectively spent the next ten minutes giggling in sporadic fits. Not crashed and burned. You crashed and grilled.
|St. Mary's Lake is pretty beautiful as it is...|
Then studio involves Fauré's Requiem on repeat interspersed with our obsession with "Jackie and Wilson" and "Riptide", cups of Earl Grey, The Idea of Space in Greek Architecture, graphite covered hands, and channeling everything Bertram Goodhue. We joke frequently about high cortisol levels and about how every environmental systems class we are reminded of ways in which we could easily die at the figurative hands of mold or mites.
Don't let the cortisol jokes fool you, however. I've been making dedicated efforts to monitor my coffee intake, sleep according to REM cycles, take breaks when necessary, not forget appointments, and keep my life in a state of relative order. Efforts have also been made to fulfill my friendly duties of lending trace where needed, keeping my studiomates fed with dining hall bananas, and generating a steady flow of snarky comebacks and puns. A reoccurring theme of lunch conversations is achieving the most ideal proportion of peanut butter to sliced apples. Then there's the occasional Aristotle vs. Plato debate that resurfaces both in and out of studio.
Process is always a huge topic. Architects are dedicated in part to making the intangible tangible and there is nothing quite as thrilling as the hands-on process. I'm speaking of furniture design class which is, in my biased opinion, unquestionably the coolest concentration. There's a tremendous satisfaction that comes with taking rough-sawn wood and joining, planing, and cutting it yourself to reveal its beautiful, natural finish. We're getting close to creating the actual joints so stay tuned for mortises and tenons soon-ish.
|This is all of the skirting for the table.|