dream

had a dream about my ex-boss: his gray hair was grown out to a fashionable length and dyed mostly black; he had big muscles. he was making everyone fill out a scantron form that would determine who would be in the next round of layoffs; during the assessment i left the room to get some water and there he was sleeping peacefully in a huge bed...

All the action is elsewhere...

I've been pouring my blogging energy into the People's Parking Lot these days so sorry I haven't been updating this dead zone. Real quick though, I'm almost done with David Foster Wallace's first novel, The Broom of the System. I believe this is book 245 for the year but who's counting, right?

I'm also neck deep in Bachelard's The Poetics of Space and Barzun's From Dawn to Decadence, the latter of which everyone with an interest in cultural history should read. It's a 900 or so page tome but it's worth it, at least from my vantage point (about 200 pages in).

But, seriously, the real action is on the People's Parking Lot

Another Video

Muckraking

Books 10-12

I just realized that I shorted myself a book...

Book 10 should have been number 8. The title is Cradle to Cradle and it's a sort of "pop" environmentalism/consumerism book that I read for class. I consider it "pop" as opposed to academic because it is meant for the general reader, which is, in this case, a good thing. The book itself is waterproof and made from a synthetic material (no trees!) that can be recycled as a plastic. The content of the book pushes for a sort of harmony between industry and the environment that could lead to eco-friendly consumers' paradise. And while I don't necessarily condone such a result, I do agree with many of their assertions. For example, they urge manufacturers to consider not only what goes into a product but how the used product is disposed/recycled/returned to the earth. Seems easy enough, right?

Books 11 and 12 were Maurice Merleau-Ponty's The World of Perception and Saul Bellow's first novel, Dangling Man. The former is a transcript of a series of M-P's lectures that were broadcast on French radio in 1948. He's a phenomenologist and argues for a return to understanding the world through our senses rather than depending on science to describe the essence of things. Bellow's book relates to M-P in that it is written as a journal of a man who is out of work and waiting to be drafted into the army during WWII (hence the use of the word "dangling"). The protagonist, Joseph, is very much aware of the world around him and is constantly searching out the meaning of his existence, much like Roquentin in Sartre's Nausea.

I previously wrote that these sorts of tales don't sit well when one is in my current state of "waiting," but I take it back after reading Bellow. As always, he connects to a world that I know and don't know; a time and place (early mid-century Chicago) that I miss even having never experienced it. The feelings of his 28 year-old narrator are familiar and the depth of his (protagonist/author) knowledge make me envious.

At this pace I may get back on track by the end of the month. As always, we'll see.

Wild Man!

So, when my son asks how he responded to changing out of his hospital clothes and into civilian attire, I'm going to show him this photo.



As you probably know if you're reading my site, this is Saul William; he was born on Monday, 4/6/09, at 8:46 PM, and tipped the scale at almost 9 lbs. He trimmed down to 8 lbs, 11 oz by day two but is currently eating about every hour and a half, in an attempt to pack the pounds on. We'll get him in the gym next week to pack on some lean muscle.

So far his likes include mama and sleeping; he doesn't care to be swaddled -- he responds via kicking and punching -- nor does he like to be changed. His first night, he seemed enamored with the strip of light coming from the hospital bathroom and I feel like he's always looking at he pictures on the wall; of course this means that he is fascinated with light and color and will therefore be a painter. Similarly, his hand movements evoke images of Leonard Bernstein, so maybe conducting will be the avenue he pursues?



Regardless of his career path, I'm going to do all I can to make sure he's caring and open-minded, critical and well-rounded, friendly, loving, well-mannered, gentle, strong, honest, fun-loving, interested, passionate, idealistic, and that he likes good music. On that note, his first CD is lullaby versions of Radiohead.

No baby yet

He's due today but I doubt he'll be on time...

More as developments develop.

I finished book nine: Sartre's Nausea. I don't recommend reading this when you're bored and don't have much to do. Questions about existence and boredom and life don't sit so well when you're just, um, waiting.

On that (waiting) note, I do have a job of sorts, that starts in October. Along with my admission to PhD in the Built Environment program, I will be working as a TA for the architectural history sequence that three-year architecture grad students take. Currently, I have no substantial knowledge on the subject but do have ample time to learn it. Wish me luck.

In preparation for my new life as a student, I have many books to read. Visit my new Amazon wish list here.

18 more people from my previous office were laid off yesterday. I believe that brings the 2009 total to 41, which is about a third of the 2008 workforce. It has been almost three months since I was laid off but for some reason I still care.

Neglect

Man, I've let this blog go to shit...

But now that my class is over maybe I can resurrect it. My term paper is here for all of those interested in mass production and sense of place.

On to books: I've managed to finish three others in the last few weeks.

Le Corbusier, The Decorative Art of Today
Christian Norberg-Schulz, Towards a Phenomenology of Architecture
Leo Marx, The Machine in the Garden

That brings me to eight for the year. Right now I'm reading Murakami's Underground and The Organization Man. It's doubtful that I'll be taking a class during the spring quarter so I'll finish these two and probably get in to some baby books. I've got some other big plans though, like Gore Vidal and David Foster Wallace (did you read that article about him in the last New Yorker? You should.)

Watchin' movies too. Just saw "Down by Law" and "To Die For."

Listening to the new Animal Collective.

Volunteered at the Seattle Rep the other night and have two tickets to see Harold Pinter's "Betrayal." My volunteering at Seattle Arts and Lectures has been going alright too. I may go see Scott Simon Wednesday night, gratis.

49-50/365

Calder's Flamingo in Chicago (with the Sears Tower in the background). I took this in November, 2007 and was reminded by my post of his work a few days ago.



Also from Chicago on that same trip, my attempt to reproduce Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot album cover, with a photo of Marina City.

45-48/365

For our two-year anniversary, we picked up a cake from Morfey's, the same bakery that made our wedding cake. We went with the Champagne Champagne option, that is, champagne cake with champagne frosting. It was delicious. And if you need an economic incentive, get this: if you buy a wedding cake from them, you get a significant discount on cakes that you buy later.



A pair of tulips from Risa's baby shower.



Risa at the beginning of week 33, in front of bookshelves #1 and #2 (#3, #4 and #5 are hidden from view).



Olympic Sculpture Park. For all you Rocky fans, I believe Calder's Eagle statue in the background used to stand atop the Philadelphia Art Museum steps before it came west.

Losing My Edge

I've never really listened to LCD Soundsystem but I heard this song today and thought it was pretty cool.

Losing My Edge

Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from France and from London.
But I was there.

I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the Internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Tokyo and Berlin.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Brooklynites in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties.

But I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge, but I was there.
I was there.
But I was there.

I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1974 at the first Suicide practices in a loft in New York City.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Daft Punk to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.

I used to work in the record store.
I had everything before anyone.
I was there in the Paradise Garage DJ booth with Larry Levan.
I was there in Jamaica during the great sound clashes.
I woke up naked on the beach in Ibiza in 1988.

But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.

I'm losing my edge.

I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody. Every great song by the Beach Boys. All the underground hits. All the Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import. I heard that you have a white label of every seminal Detroit techno hit - 1985, '86, '87. I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.

I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your computer out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your guitars and bought turntables.
I hear that you and your band have sold your turntables and bought guitars.

I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.

But have you seen my records? This Heat, Pere Ubu, Outsiders, Nation of Ulysses, Mars, The Trojans, The Black Dice, Todd Terry, the Germs, Section 25, Althea and Donna, Sexual Harrassment, a-ha, Pere Ubu, Dorothy Ashby, PIL, the Fania All-Stars, the Bar-Kays, the Human League, the Normal, Lou Reed, Scott Walker, Monks, Niagra,

Joy Division, Lower 48, the Association, Sun Ra,
Scientists, Royal Trux, 10cc,

Eric B. and Rakim, Index, Basic Channel, Soulsonic Force ("just hit me"!), Juan Atkins, David Axelrod, Electric Prunes, Gil! Scott! Heron!, the Slits, Faust, Mantronix, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, the Swans, the Soft Cell, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.

You don't know what you really want. (x15)

39-44/365

I thought a little red would be appropriate for both my color search and the upcoming "holiday."

38/365

I tried to post this Saturday but evidently my site has the characteristics of a "spam blog," and was shut down for review by the blogger crew. I'm guessing it's all the photos that are often accompanied by not much more than a link.

Catch-up photos and book number six coming soon.

37/365

36/365

35/365

I really wanted to post these side by side but the blog template is not really conducive to such a layout. I always snicker at the Ferrari and Maserati dealership at 12th and Madison but, upon biking past it tonight, I thought of the Hopper painting below (he has a show at SAM that runs until March 1, 2009).

I believe it's worth thinking about the difference between the 2009 photo and the 1942 painting, keeping in mind for whom/what we build cities. Do we build for people or cars?

Though Seattle kowtows to drivers 99% of the time, some headway is being made for those moving about the city by their own power. For example, I used one of the new bike corrals this morning in front of Cafe Presse. Where before only one car could park, there is now room for eight or nine bikes.

34/365

Here's Risa at almost 32 weeks!

32 and 33/365

Slipping

I know, I'm slipping with the photos. I've received scores of emails from infuriated readers. I apologize: this weekend was spent learning about babies and then today I was penning my latest masterpiece, soon to be posted here. I'll attempt to catch up with a beautiful trifecta tomorrow.

As for other developments, there are a few.

1. I am still unemployed but am occupying myself with my classwork, puppy-sitting once a week and looking for volunteer gigs. I have already ushered at On the Boards once and have another assignment there later this month, as well as two at the Seattle Rep in the coming months. I also applied to be an office assistant at Seattle Arts and Lectures. We'll see how that goes.

2. I have recently submitted five applications to PhD programs around the country. The schools, listed in descending order of what I consider to be my odds of admission, are:

-- University of Washington (70-30)
-- University of Wisconsin (50-50)
-- University of Illinois (50-50)
-- Temple (50-50)
-- Columbia (10-90)

3. Economic stimulus? How about forgiving student loans. Click here to sign the petition.

31/365

The moon and Venus at twilight, as seen earlier this evening from Bremerton, WA.

30/365

29/365

Pedestrian trail through the Olmsted-designed Interlaken Park on Capitol Hill, where people ignore greetings of "hello" and "good morning." The Seattle Freeze is, evidently, in full effect.

28/365

27/365

Back in 2003 or 2004, I picked up this book and read the back cover in the Barnes and Noble on Colorado Boulevard in Denver. I had just moved there and had lots of spare time (read: no friends) so I'd go to the bookstore to get a cup of coffee and read The New Yorker. I didn't buy the book but every once in a while the cover pops into my head and I try to remember the title.

Then, today, my professor recommended I read something by Edward Casey. I typed his name into the online library catalog and up this popped, a good five years later, with the same lonesome cover drawing me in. If you're looking for me, I'll be in the Architecture library at UW tomorrow morning, picking this gem up.

26/365

A simple twenty-dollar bill: who knew it could make for such an interesting evening.

As I posted yesterday, we have switched to a cash system. In keeping with that decision, I ran over to Madison Market tonight to pick up a few items for dinner and Risa's lunch tomorrow, and paid with cash (a twenty and two ones). A few hours later, while considering doing laundry and lamenting over the fact that we are burning through our cash, I reached into my wallet to find that I only had one twenty remaining! I knew that last night I had three and actually had photographic proof. What happened?

I thought and though about where I may have spent it but knew I didn't. I thought that maybe it stuck to that other one at the grocery store; I knew it was a long shot but, in this economy, I had to ask. I went over to the store and they said they'd call when they closed out that register. We all kind of laughed at the prospect of their finding my bill.

Lo and behold, about twenty minutes ago the call came. Sure enough, that drawer was twenty bucks over.

Book Five

As I've begun to read much more academic writing, I'm developing the "active reading" habit of commenting on the pages, making it interactive. Often, and probably because I don't know any better, I tend to agree with the author so most of my marks are underlines, circles, or even exclamation points. I pen little notes in the margins so that when I come back, I can see what I was thinking at a particular time. However, whilst reading Le Corbusier's The City of To-Morrow and its Planning, which I just finished, I found myself writing things like "jackass", "fool" and "no!!"

I'd often heard his ideas for urban planning described as "skyscrapers in the park," which, in itself, didn't sound all that horrific to me. In fact, when thinking about density and open space in urban areas, it actually sounds okay (even though I became a dissenter after realizing that this would be death of the vibrant urban streetscape that makes cities exciting). But when this idea is coupled with arterial roads that are 400 feet wide and slice through existing cities, moving car traffic rapidly throughout, I lose all interest and start looking for rotten tomatoes to hurl.

Sure, his infrastructure plan calls for subways and commuter rail -- which sound a little better -- but this focus on cars as the future turns my stomach (and reminds me of a ridiculous fucking decision on the future of auto traffic in Seattle). In Corbu's defense, he did write his book 1925, when cars seemed like a pretty good idea, but the damage his ideas have done seems irreparable (Aurora Boulevard and I-5 slicing through Seattle both appear to be inspired by his writing).

The wonderful Jane Jacobs blames him (and Ebenzer Howard, the father of the 'burbs) for the destruction wrought on American cities and, so far, I think she's right.

I do agree with one of Corbu's ideas though: that people should live in buildings that are at a human scale and leave the skyscrapers for office space (if we're going to build them at all). He envisions housing blocks of six stories that are surrounded by open space, with trees aplenty, and towering skyscrapers spaced out in the distance beyond...I wouldn't say this is the answer, but the human scale part and the access to some open space sounds good.

I'll be writing a more academic version of this criticism tomorrow. I'll post it on my other site when it is finished.

See below for Corbu's vision of a modern Paris.

25/365

Here you see our Sunday night dinner (homemade veggie pizzas and salad) alongside the remainder of our budget for the week ($71 and change). As of today we are operating on a cash-only system in an effort to curb superfluous spending. Though we can afford to spend a little more, the goal for this week is $100 (though we did have a $30 brunch this morning, which was delicious and bacon-y, and went on a debit card).

This challenge is a little more daunting since we mostly shop at the Madison Market (a community-owned natural foods joint), which is a bit more expensive than Safeway. I'm holding strong to this store but the budget may force some of the shopping elsewhere.

Book #4

I just finished Junot Diaz's Pulitzer Prize-winning The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao for book four of the the year. It's part sci-fi-comic-nerd, part Gabriel Garcia Marquez mystical realism, part Bildungsroman, all viewed from the point of view of a Dominican living in Jersey. Much narrator's dialogue will soon come across as dated (it's already distant for me) but he's learned and sincere and pulls you in to the story. Footnotes abound in the historical chapters and give you a sense for what kind of the place the DR was (how long ago, I'm not sure; I plead utter ignorance beyond what I have read in the last few days).

Diaz will be in Seattle a month from today for a lecture through Seattle Arts and Lectures. Maybe if I can scrape a few dollars together I'll be in attendance.

24/365

A tangle of power lines for the electric buses that serve much of Seattle.

23/365

As much as I dislike these Obama as Lincoln posters, or Obama as Washington on the cover of the January 26th New Yorker, I thought this stood out.

Bike Ride

All you fitness nuts* out there, check out Map My Run. It's a pretty cool application that uses google maps to determine the distance one walks, runs, bikes, rollerblades, or whatever.

Those of you who know Seattle will understand why I went around Queen Anne rather than over top.

(* I am not a fitness nut but do enjoy a nice bike ride)

22/365

21/365

Technological Sublime

Books

I have completed book three for year, which keeps me on pace for my goal of fifty. Number four will be another for my class but will keep me on pace for January.

3) Refabricating Architecture by Stephen Kieran and James Timberlake

This book is basically a call for architecture to adapt mass production techniques used for airplanes, cars and ships. Rather than typical mass production, they envision a system much like Dell computers where people "order" custom houses that are assembled mostly in warehouses then erected on site. According to the authors, a concentration on the process of fabrication and communication between the architect -- who acts as a facilitator for all dimensions of the construction process -- and the rest of the designers and builders is key to this development. It's interesting, especially the scenario at the end where the Boeing factory in Everett serves as the hub for these operations.

Book four will be The City of Tomorrow and its Planning by Le Corbusier.

Oh, and Wayne just informed me that our soon to be ex-president is quite the reader when he puts his *mind* to it...

18,19,20/365

Staying true to my quest for color in Seattle and in honor of our newfound patriotism:

17/365

This goes to show that the good people of Texas aren't all fans of George W.

16/365

Behold the new Four Seasons Hotel and Residences in Seattle.

For me, The "Liberty" signage on the Seattle Art Museum, expresses the freedom of well-heeled developers to build this citadel of a building that refuses to engage the sidewalk at street level (you can't see it here but it's just a solid wall and an outlet for overpriced chocolate).

Despite this fact, the building itself is growing on me. I like the color, the glass, and the height. It has a tactile quality that makes me want to touch it.

Click here for other/older thoughts and an exchange with Charles Mudede.

A sound a day

Check out this blog, by Taylor Deupree. Last year he took a Polaroid photo everyday and has since moved to daily digital field recordings.

15/365

There's a deal going on at the University Book Store...

If I had a job, I'd have some more good books.

14/365

Finally, after two weeks, we have a working refrigerator.

Reading is Fundamental

Yeah, I'm trying to read fifty books again this year. At the end of last year, I said I was going to start off the year with Gore Vidal but that has been pushed back a little. It's still on my list though.

Anyway, I've finished two books so far.

1) The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon.

I'm considering writing a real review for this (synopsis: it's okay, he can do better, his essay that precedes this book is more interesting than the book itself, he has this kind of youth group attendee sort of sense of humor (farting, mooning people) that bothers me) but, alas, unemployment (read: reading, waiting on the refrigerator repairman, looking for jobs, writing blog posts, walking the dog, cleaning, hanging out at the co-op, going to the UW library, hopefully starting to work out more, etc.) is taking up an awful lot of my time...

2) The New Architecture and the Bahaus by Walter Gropius

This one was for the class I'm taking entitled The Contemporary Built Environment. Check out my reading response here.

13/365

Ever since seeing Helvetica, the font is haunting me.

12/365

Still looking for color and noticed these flowers downtown. Lo and behold, the reflection in the bird bath is the Minoru Yamasaki building in which I used to work.

11/365

Okay, so maybe I have a thing about bricks.

Unfortunately, the newspaper that printed that piece (as well as this one, more recently) has fallen on really hard times and is up for sale.

(I still haven't figured out the clipping issue I'm having here. The nozzle that serves as the highlight of this photo is thus bisected.)*

*fixed!

10/365

Just some bricks. I like to see the color of the Southwest under these gray skies.

9/365

Risa took this one of me and Sammy at about 6 am on my first day as part of the 7.2% of the unemployed population. We slept until about 10:00 then went for a walk and got some coffee.

Oh you efficient laying-off machine!

Hardly any phones were ringing but tears and handshakes flourished in a few isolated corners. I arrived late and could have sworn I heard an employee a few years my junior telling the receptionist that she was no longer employed. I wanted to look back but, as a five-year veteran of corporate America, I knew that would be bad form.

As I approached my desk I noticed a flattened cardboard box adjacent to a coworkers’ desk. This particular gentleman had flirted with outright termination only a few months prior, so his potential dismissal was unsurprising. I saw another young man enter the Chief Operating Officer’s lair and became fully aware of what was happening.

Rather than the old-fashioned In/Out board, we had a computer application where everyone could indicate whether they were in the office, out to lunch, or sick, and when they would return. As I changed my status to “in,” I noticed that some names had already been removed from the employee list. “That’s pretty quick,” I thought and settled in with a strange anxiety in my gut.

I’ll have you know my heart was never in the job, or even the industry for that matter. I accepted my first job when what I really wanted was to play the drums, read, and wander across the country like a faux-hemian Jack Kerouac wannabe. I was essentially a square, no doubt, but still, I thought a little wandering would be good for my blood. Unfortunately, I hadn’t the courage to follow this “dream” and ended up in my first cubicle. I did, however, purchase a condo only a few blocks from where Kerouac did much of his drinking in Denver, as if to hold on to a small part of my previous lifestyle as an “outsider.”

This attitude had stuck with me through that job, the next, and the one at which I was working that fateful morning. I routinely came in late, dressed in jeans, and spent half a day per week at the university studying the work of idealists and neomarxists, but I was still a good employee: efficient, organized, etc. Therefore, I felt as if my anxiety was justified. I thought if they were cutting out people, they would probably take the opportunity to cut out those that didn’t quite fit.

So I worked for about two hours and felt okay. I’d stand up and look to the chopping block and see an employee with far less experience than myself, and somewhat embarrassingly, feel okay.

An interesting thing about our office phone system is that each desk phone has two rings: a stuttered short ring for calls from outside lines and a longer, continuous drone for calls from within the office. Right after noon my phone started ringing, my stomach dropped, and then it stuttered, indicating a call from outside.

I told my wife nothing about what was going on since she’s pregnant and I didn’t want to stress her out.

Then it was back to work, kind of. Whispers floated across the low partition walls; my immediate supervisor looked happy enough. I got a glass of water and made a lap around the office to see who was in the big boss’s office, and who had moved on to station two, the office manager’s office. A youngster was in the latter but the former was occupied by a guy about my age.

“No surprise that he’s getting the axe,” said a coworker. I had no idea that the guy was that kind of employee, but I guess the truth comes out at times like this.

Regardless, this indicated that the boss was working his way up the ladder; that it wasn’t only going to be newbies.

About fifteen long minutes later my phone rang that long continuous drone.

More than anything, I’m impressed by the efficiency of the laying-off process. Your phone rings and you go in to hear the whole story. You are given the chance to ask questions which the boss answers sincerely. Next, like a widget on an assembly line, you are a transported to the office manager’s space where she explains the benefits and is ready to counsel if necessary. She reminds you to pack up your valuables and hit the road, and lets you know that the rest of your stuff will be coming in the mail. After that, it’s back to your desk to find that your connection to the office network has been terminated, that your email is nonexistent, and that you are indeed deleted from the sign in/out program that runs on the computer.

A few perfunctory goodbyes ensue. “I can’t believe it” and “now I’m scared” and “well, we should have a beer.” Your immediate boss is out to lunch and, shortly thereafter, so are you. A handshake with the cool office assistant and a few last minutes with the receptionist and it’s down the elevator, carrying a load that’s a little too heavy, and back on to the street.

It feels a little like freedom and a little like disgrace.

8/365

When you're outta work, you drink PBR.

7/375

Looking for color in a dreary locale.

6/365

Concrete core of a new Seattle skyscraper. It looks like construction work has stopped for now, so we might be looking at this for a while.

Consumption '09

On second thought, rather than tracing back through all the books, music, and movies I consumed last year, I'm going to keep track as I go in '09 (a la Obsessive Consumption over on the sidebar). This will likely give me fodder for my photography project as well.

I have yet to see a movie or purchase a book in this new year, but I've already found some new music.

Music (purchased):

1) Bonnie "Prince" Billy -- Ease Down the Road
2) DJ/Rupture -- Uproot

Music (gifted):

1) Cut Copy -- In Ghost Colours
2) No Age -- Nouns

5/365