documentation

on a saturday morning

2005-12-17T07:37:00.000-08:00

grace. n.
5. A favor rendered by one who need not do so; indulgence; 8. a divine love and protection bestowed freely on people; b the state of being protected or sanctified by the favor of God; c an excellence or power granted by God. [dictionary.com]

Grace is something that I will never earn or even come close to deserving. This time of year I like to make all of these goals for the next year. Some deal with personal betterment, others deal with friendships/ relationships with those around me, and then a part of me wants to be better for the purpose of God. It’s like I’m trying to remind Him [oh yea, the already all-seeing, all-knowing, creator] of how I’ve messed up this past year, and it comes across like a quiet promise to do better.

Romans 6
12 Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body, that you should obey it in the lusts thereof. 13 Neither yield you your members as instruments of unrighteousness to sin: but yield yourselves to God, as those that are alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness to God. 14 For sin shall not have dominion over you: for you are not under the law, but under grace.

Ephesians 2
8For by grace are you saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:

For me, grace is knowing that God , in spite of the sin in my life, in spite of all the times I let darkness drown out the light, still chooses to talk with me. How any perfect being like this would even give me the time of day is still unfathomable. It’s only through grace that he talks with me now, and only through grace that I can be saved from what I deserve.

God knew that we needed a perfect sacrifice to atone for our sins [which, or course, none of us could provide]…..but before something could be sacrificed, it had to be born. So when you ask “why” Christmas, quite simply that’s why. Because without it, salvation could be nothing more than a daydream.

Amazing Grace
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I'm found.
’Twas blind, but now I see.

'Twas grace that taught my heart to feel
and grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear
the hour I first believed.

When we've been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun,
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we first begun.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I'm found,
was blind but now I see....

nope...no title

2005-10-14T16:03:00.000-07:00

..a quick post before the wochenende

By and large the week was a success. I got a decent amount accomplished at work, cleaned my room, bought a new recliner, and purchased some new music on itunes. Check them out when you get the chance. the fray This next one has been lingering around my library for a while, but I’ll pass it on anyway. saint privat

For the more artistic types…an artist named Larry Kagan. I first saw his work a couple years ago at an architecture museum and he appears to have added some new work/images on his site. His work plays on the difference between what is seen and what actually is. The tangles of steel give way to recognizable shadows that are left unseen or construed without precise lighting. Enjoy.

The roommates, myself, and a couple guys from the office [officially our project managers, but negligibly older] are going down to flw’s fallingwater tomorrow to get our architecture fix, campout, and enjoy some steaks and brews. Good times will be enjoyed by all.

I hope this is enough visual/ auditory excitement for the weekend. Look forward to some pics from fallingwater on monday.

cold

2005-10-11T21:15:00.000-07:00

So…contrary to the other six days of the week, I awoke this morning without an alarm. Instead, I was brought back to consciousness [for those familiar with my “like a rock” sleeping habits, this word is fitting] by the sounds of hymns playing on the church’s carillon across the street. I’ll be going to church in about an hour, so I guess for me it’s like a pre-game show.

I hope that this morning is a precursor of the week to come. Last time I checked the weather, we were faced with a week’s worth of rain and cold [with the sun not making another appearance until next Sunday.] My affinity for cold can only be trumped by leisurely weekend mornings like this.

…break for church, a trip to philly, and two days of work…sorry for the delay folks

[con’t]

My most vivid memories of cold are probably from the backpacking trips I took as I was growing up. I remember unzipping a frost-laden tent, peering out through the crack to see if anyone else was awake—and if I decided that it was finally time to get up—I would stick my feet into my ice-cold boots. The initial shiver was eventually overcome as I piled layer upon layer on my body. As I moseyed across the campsite I would secretly hope that someone had already restarted the campfire from the night before, or at the very least put a couple pots of water on the propane stoves. If my dad was already up, he would offer to fix me a hot chocolate, and with little convincing I would agree. I would take my gloves off and hold the cup like a bowl letting the warmth soak into my palms. The layers would slowly start to come off as we fixed breakfast and by the time we were ready to start hiking again, I would be down to shorts and a t-shirt. Such was the typical morning.

Of all this, I think my favorite part was that first breath outside the tent. In that first inhale, there was no smell of a nylon sleeping bag, a musty tent, or dirty clothes; rather, it was the smell of cold. This particular cold smells a little like dew and a little like pine, but above all it’s pure and so effortless to inhale.

rockin and rollin

2005-09-16T02:22:00.000-07:00

For those of you familiar with my dry and somewhat banal humor, I need not apologize for the title of this post. For anyone else who has wondered on to this blog, I am very very sorry—please continue reading and enjoy.

In life you’re bound to find things that make you smile. This rock happens to be one of those things. I keep it not only because it was given to me by a good friend (and was imported from an exotic locale), but also because it signifies how minute we really are. In the first chapter of Genesis, the seven days of creation are written about in detail. I am guessing that the plan for this rock was created somewhere around the third day—when God decided to create land and sea. The earth existed three more days without thought of mankind.

For me, this is humbling.

Three days before man was even conceived, God knew that certain fissures would form in the ocean floor and that these fissures would eventually be infused with light grey sediments. Later, after being pounded by waves for a thousand years or so, a piece of the ocean floor would eventually break free and fall into the ebb/ flow cycle. In this cycle, the piece would constantly break into smaller fragments as it approached the shoreline. These small fragments would then teeter precariously on the edge of the beach not realizing that at any moment they could be pulled back out to sea with the tide. And so there they sat for another 100 years or so; the waves constantly picking them up and smashing them into one other until they were smooth.

Sure, we stepped on them occasionally, but don’t be fooled, it was nature that polished the rocks—not man.

Part of each day is wrapped up in having doubts. These can be doubts about our jobs, our schoolwork, friendships, and just life in general—but, regardless of what it is, we all have them; it’s natural. My doubts are categorized as life in general_with just a tinge of the romantic. When will I meet the girl with whom I will spend the rest of my life; who will she be? Is it a person that has already come and gone in my life? How will I provide for a family on an architect’s salary? How will I balance the overtime demands of the profession with the overtime I should spend with my family? And most importantly—at least at the moment—how big of a cad monkey zombie am I going to be tomorrow now that I’ve stayed up til almost 2.30 writing this blog.

And then I look at this rock before I go to bed each night. For me, it proves God’s promise not only in my life, but in the environment around me. If God has the ability to select a rock in the vastness of the ocean, imprint it with the symbol of my faith, and roll it onto the shore so that I might receive it as a gift, then there’s a more than a good chance that He’s got my back too. Faith in this fact does not require that I understand it all right now—or ever for that matter—but rather it helps me begin to make sense of the present.

Like the rocks, we were meant to interact with one another; to hone each other so to speak. If I was already talented enough, there would be no reason for me to interact with the principal of my firm. If I was already strong enough, there would be no reason to join my roommate at the gym. If I was already spiritually mature beyond my years, there would be no reason to have elders in my church. The truth is, though, I fall short of these things and need others. That’s why we have other people in our lives. There’s a good chance that tomorrow, someone will help me with something. Next week, I might be given the chance to return the favor.

scrapes, sprains, bruises...oh my

2005-09-14T22:03:00.000-07:00

I grew up outside. No, I wasn’t raised by a tribe of aborigines or nurtured by a pack of wolves, but being outside just seemed to be my family’s thing. I was groomed from a Tiger Cub to an Eagle (props to those who know what I’m talking about) and during my middle/ high school years I would be amiss if I didn’t go on at least one backpacking excursion every year in addition to the regular campouts. Then, a little thing called architecture school showed its ugly little head. College came and soon I found myself sitting in my studio chair more than I care to remember. Sure, I took occasional outside footbagging breaks, but it just wasn’t the same as setting up camp in the Rocky Mountains__go figure. Four and a half years later, the last semester of college came and I discovered the Konza Prairie Reserve near Manhattan. I only went out there twice__the second time only to reflect on my first visit__and one thing is for certain; those of you unfortunate enough never to have experienced the plains of Kansas, my sympathy is with you. The flatness gives way to subtleties easily overlooked by non-natives. Most notably, the vegetation. There’s the way that trees twist down between hills as they delineate the path of underground water and the way that fresh groundcover (restoring itself after the previous season’s burn) encroaches on the old with its green vibrancy. You begin to understand that the plains possess a richness beyond that of a mere cow pasture. Left alone, it continues to evolve aesthetically__wind or lightning might take out a tree here and there and the walls of gullies are eroded further with every downpour. This flux and evolution intrigues me.

Now that I’m working, I can afford myself time to enjoy the outdoors again. So, for a few weeks now I’ve been trail riding with some of the guys at work. Most of them have been riding for a while now, and I often feel like the new kid on the block__the one trying hard to fit in, trying to do all the cool things they can do, but often times failing, or in this case—falling. I have become quite refined at this. So far I’ve mastered the art of getting my front tire wedged in between rocks and logs—resulting at the very least in a graceful donkey kick if not a full out flip over the handlebars. And if it’s not hopping over logs, or getting shredded by prickly bushes, it’s playing d-tackle on a bike. Some day I’ll figure out that no matter how fast I’m going, I still won’t be able to take out a 5” dia tree with my shoulder. So I am writing this post the night after such a ride. All my cuts, sprains, and bruises are coming to my full attention and all I can piece together in my head is that I’m doing this for fun. Yea…fun…sure thing.

road tripping to bethlehem

2005-08-30T22:59:00.000-07:00

a couple of weekends ago, the roommates and i drove down to bethlehem to walk the grounds of the old steel mill. it exists today in a state of disrepair, but nevertheless conveys the power the mill once posessed.

night and day

2005-08-30T19:31:00.000-07:00

ok, so i decided to take a brief break from work tonight to load a couple images and write a little text. below are the two stages in which i found my desk today.

the first image, with an early morning light almost timid as it filled the office. the second, in blackness, only illuminated by my trusty desk lamp--a setting i found myself in not but 4 months ago. a tear almost forms in my eye when i think i could be sitting in studio right now, pondering how much work i should get done. then, i would decide to go home and take a brief nap--and if you know me, you know the rest of the story--the nap would mysteriously turn into a full night's slumber. if only i had switched out my bed for some concrete blocks, THEN i really could have got things accomplished.

the residential project i am working on now is proceeding nicely as we prepare for a client meeting at the end of this week. this will be my first time to meet the client since signing on to the project about 4 weeks ago. elevation and sectional studies are the name of the game right now. power to the ELP--entry level professional that is.

back to work, hopefully i can leave by a decent time tonight. you graduate, and all of a sudden any night that lasts past midnight or so feels like 5am when your alarm sounds the next morning.

the woo-boo and kickin it with the bro

2005-08-24T16:19:00.000-07:00

For a minute I think I am in Europe. The window nearest my desk overlooks a valley laden with atmosphere, a river, and in true european fashion__an elegant bridge. And, just in case my thoughts weren’t already askew, I received an email from the author of studio109 tempting me with thoughts of working in europe__nice job, brad. You see, during the day, I am elevated 12 floors above the town in bliss—well, as much bliss as an office can be. However, my eyes are reopened as soon as I get off the elevator and into the square. Instead of traversing up the hill for un’ cappuccino e una pasta, I find that I am exactly where I left myself earlier this morning__in NEPA. For those unfamiliar with this vernacular terminology, it refers to NorthEastern PennsylvaniA. Wilkes Barre to be precise__a town seemingly 2 hours from all the northeast hotspots__new york, philly, and of course IKEA . It’s a town seemingly void of energy, but for now it’s my town.

This past weekend, my brother stopped by the woo-boo—as some of the locals so affectionately call it—and for a night we got to just chill. After some tasty italian food and a couple local brews he decided to call it a night—he was a bit tired as he opted for movies instead of sleep on his flight over from Copenhagen. I gave him a tour of my office and the projects I am currently working on, but soon realized that not even intriguing architecture talk was going to keep this guy awake. So, off to bed at 11:00 on a Friday night—I however, enjoyed the rest of the night with the roommates at a local bar.
And, true to the life of this international man of mystery, my brother was off for work the next morning at 6. I tell you, he’s a machine; a machine with thousands of frequent flyer miles that is.

And for the literary types, here’s an excerpt from the book I’ve been reading lately

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest…For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” matthew 11:28-30

I’ll be honest, in the past 23 years of attending church I’ve read parts from most of the books in the Bible, but never in its totality__that’s a task I started a couple of weeks ago. Read the New Testament first, then start with the Old and work my way through the whole thing. As a result, this blog will probably be spiced up with scripture from time to time so check back. Read it, think about it—my hope is that it will encourage you to read the Bible for yourself. It’s a book about beginnings, life, struggles, and a belief that only God can provide salvation through His grace. If you know someone that is a believer, I would encourage you to become curious—ask questions, share thoughts, and discover the Truth for yourself.

peculiarities of time

2005-08-16T04:39:00.000-07:00

I’ve always been one who likes to have a grasp on time. There is a part of me that desires to have events divided into simple increments__promptly taking 10 minutes to get from my door to my desk, setting an alarm for the next morning so that my slumber will be in half or whole hour increments, and for nostalgia’s sake—counting down to a studio project’s turn in; beginning at t minus 24.

And so I write tonight realizing that I am once again plagued by my desire for time to be simple. I am now exactly 2 months into my job and thoroughly enjoy it. The move out of the Midwest has not been without some degree of longing, but for now things are going well. So far, I have been able to continue designing with the energy and excitement usually contained in school, but as I look around it is becoming apparent that it will take clear focus to keep this unadulterated energy alive. I am finally at the threshold between the level of design my projects reached in school and the uncharted territory of realizing a built project. I think the naïve part of me longs for what’s next—2 months down, t minus 40 years to go.

In this discussion of time, I am reminded of time spent in Italy. For a semester, I called a small hilltown in Tuscany my home. It was healing. In the small shops and boutiques there was often only one person who tended to the affairs day in and day out. If they had something that required their presence, the shop was closed. If lunch with their families lasted 3 hours instead of 30 minutes, then the shop wouldn’t reopen until 4 in the afternoon (just in time to close down again for dinner). Somehow, these shops and their owners have remained unscathed since the emergence of an 8 to 5 business day. They have either 1) discovered some cosmic way to control time, or 2) have resolved that time will not have dominion over them. I would tend to agree with the later.

At work, there are days where I am confident that I notice every movement of the minute hand as it creeps its way from 8.30 to noon, and likewise from 1-5.30. And then there are the days when I blink and it is already time for the 5.30 showdown on the office ping-pong table.

Time is strange like that.