Form / Function

=

Content / Design

its one of those days where the sun is crisp and everything coloured pops like in a 3D movie. Simulcra Simulcrum I'm confusing the order the virtual which simulates the real is now used as the benchmark. Ironic. or not. 

It feels like a holiday - the straw hat on my head reinforces that. The rolled up jeans more so. You can't help but smile and no not too many words need to be or should be spoken because we'll spoil the illusion. So shhh keep silent, stay still, smile and imagineer something better than what it really is. 

The sombreness of winter is gone. 

"I just love beautiful things. I want to own them all."

"I think you're the first bisexual I've ever truly met."

http://www.techcrunch.com/2009/03/22/why-advertising-is-failing-on-the-internet/

http://popartmachine.com/masters/BUT_TODAY_WE_COLLECT_ADS.html

Dear Future-Lennard,

Please remember these following questions to yourself.

Today was the talk "Thesis?!", a conversation between Brett Steele and Hernan Diaz Alonso,

Architects make arguments, not projects. A welcome relief. And maybe, for lack of an argument, such an issue should be invented. "Build the world differently", said Brett. The limits of my experience is the limits of my world is the limits of my architecture. One has to exceed the other and all should surpass everything(one?) else. Build the world differently. Please remember this. 

The construction of an idea, so make that idea provocative, compelling. Ultimately, the inhabitation of an idea. Remember the moment after you read Rand, Terazni, Calvino. The world changed even though nothing changed because you changed. Your world view changed and thats what you have to do en masse. "Enframing, reframing"

The 19th century was the institutionalization of architecture via the ecole de beaux arts et all. The 20th,  the era of the singular project. Superstudio. Rem. 

The 21st? "this is a hunch... but its about the network. its about information and communication. ether."

What happened to Negroponte and Mitchell. Was it a cynicism or tiredness with architecture that turned them away? Maybe the game we play as we know it is too small. "architecture isn't constructive", said rem. or something along those lines. Jettison the title or redefine it, but don't subscribe to it. 

Remember this please future-lennard.

Lennard-Past.

what is modularity? 

language as we know it is a vehicle for the communication of ideas. it is a concretization or a formalization of what was previously abstract. taking it another step, perhaps language itself is the building blocks of ideas - we think in words, don't we? 

so if the layman thinks in terms of words, what of architects or other design professions. Language in the form of words, in my opinion, has sometimes served as a barrier to communication. We think in the form of sketches. So lines then become a form of communication. Line, shade - lets communicate simple ideas or partis. 

As a concept or design gets fleshed out, it gains bulk. line becomes plane. shade becomes volume. And as this aggregates onward, it gets bulker and bulkier - its a little ball that gets more complex. not in terms of intention - that should be pure - but perhaps in execution.

Modularity is a way to handle this and to communicate this complexity. it allows a project to be handled by various hands. is it the removal of a "signature"? perhaps. but then again, isnt the signature in the concept itself?

There is a perverse freedom in living which la has shown me far removed from material excess or luxuries. 

Its the simple fruit of life, the feeling of unfettered freedom coarsing through your veins. 

The horizon never comes close and the limits are never reached, its like driving on the highway getting lost in the familarly un-familiar. The world is too big for the spirit to stay so small. 

they write with words, we write with lines. the question then is what you're tryin to say

from archiecture as in art, there is a reality to it. it doesn't matter where the abstraction or the inspiration lay, because once its born of itself, it becomes an experience that has to stand on its own. 

an urge to live the cinematic life

so if there're dwarfs in the bay and hobbits, a tellytubby (and a reluctant one at that), i've been dubbed a treant "because when he starts work, he never moves". 

you dont need ecstacy if you've got a heart of glass

plausibe book covers

belly flops: the retarded cousins of jelly beans

today was a good day, i say with an air of defiance

and his sin was to believe the hype. we must create it, we must sell it, but we must not buy into it - for the people but not of the people, perhaps.

"...the search for a quiet connection with beauty in a metropolis of strangers"

new year new resolutions lets take a hop and a skip back but remember what you passed on the way*

ho hum merry christmas says i through spiteful tugs at the whiskey bottle. this isn't really happening, mind you, but i liked the phrase spiteful tug so the rest had to follow.

to mexico tomorrow adios amigos though i am ill prepared at what to expect but i expect to be floored. lady man boys on parade i say.

its a mild brute to ride, a bronco without any yee-har tearing down the dotted lines.

a million daydreams to everyone,

, and bruce, why not give Rand another go?

its confirmed, beyond a doubt - Rabbit, veal and pork with white wine is the most divine sausage. To paraphrase, its "like sucking on the phallus of a god". I took liberties with that mind you. 

And at Goodwill, several gems of a find. Cassette tapes, finally, to go with my ancient car stereo. At 99cents a pop, we found Sonic Youth, The Cure, Ella Fitzgerald and some classic Baroque. Pacabel on the highway at 90. Who can protest?

Two new books on the bookshelf, 2nd hand, the first one being Tom Wolfe's Bonfire of the Vanities, which read in unison with the Fountainhead has made the winter reading chronologically manhattenesque with a sharp eye on society. It also spares me having to watch Tom Hanks and Melanie Griffith because the lazy side of me would probably reach for the more passive form of consumption. Throw in Mad Men and its the rise of the bourgeoisie and their petty icarus games.

And finally, Pride and Prejudice, a dogeared yellowing book underlined to death by its previous owner which makes it a treat. Reading it would also entail reading into the thoughts of whoever read it before me. It has a history, which i think is appealingly quaint, and that makes me smile. 

Could the airport be the happiest place on earth?

A stream of people- couples in love, parents in waiting, families hoping - continuous, seperated for prolonged periods - long enough to numb the bad memories and sepia tint the good ones. A thousand hugs and hellos and how are yous at any given moment, the collective goodwill before they go into the cars and up comes in the air like the aircon blast the anonymity after all the old stories and rehearsed schticks get played out.

And on the beach, the most beautiful boy. elfin like, skin a powder white but not without scratches and imperfections. The deadlocked hair in a peacock's display of blue, red and pink tendrils. His eyes, glass-like, almost transparent with a hair's pin iris that pierces through. A moments perfection as he played the sitar, slouched against the white cracked paint of the sidewalks of Venice Beach.

Kiss the air and make a wish - Seahorses on patrol, alert to your needs.

It's a thick fog, almost as if one were looking through a delicate lace curtain draped over the city. An almost tangible shroud - the perfect backdrop to Adore on cassette and cold midnight air blowing in through the open car window. Here is now is Home.