"Your hands do not look like they're your's."

We build to express ideas set forth by a practical art form debated upon for years. All of this intellectual discussion has to transform from a weightless idea into a tangible 3D form. We're taught how to look at things with a prejudiced eye; to create a dichotomy between the 'representational' form & the robust embodiment of what we're trying to convey. We're constantly grasping at a process that is two steps ahead & laughing all the while. The ideas expressed often move at a slower pace than we build. We construct, deconstruct, & reconstruct without ever truly completing our thoughts. We tear away the pieces to reveal a skeletal notion of process; a bare bones approach to a complex & intricate problem. We sketch away the vigor of the project in order to do something-- anything!- that leads to production. Those walks around the block are often lies to ourselves. We try to force ideas that may never fully gestate much like people who pray to God to fix a problem immediately. There's never one singular solution-- we must create a laundry list & go with what will allow the project to spill over the sides. I'm not sure if I can swipe at my process, but it's in view. The pressure of a deadline is often the starter pistol that sets us up to produce. Ten days out & counting.

"I'm Never as Tired as When I'm Waking Up."

The past week was lost to sleep & indecision. All those songs we played this summer were filed away & left us to find new inspiration. Can inspiration transfer between mediums without being too heavy handed & literal? The reference to "frozen music" doesn't mean much to our generation due to the intangible medium of mp3's. We're removing tangibility from art & creating files. I woke up late all week & tried to re-align time against centuries of science. It's safe to say I'm not completely burnt out, but the edges are smoldering & I need to get back to form. The lull of activity was self-induced-- more like self-inflicted- & needs to be extinguished immediately & permanently. I walked down Grand St. last night & looked at the skyline with the hope of someday adding some new form to its iconic image. The scale of our work pales in comparison at this point, but we're working on "going big". Any effect on another person would mean we've reached a level of success.

Whenever I take for granted my position in life-- living in Brooklyn, going to Pratt, being on the forefront of some digital revolution that may push our field to limits once thought impossible- I turn to this song: It feels like summer all over despite the falling temperatures & changing leaves. If we never stop striving, we'll live in those lights forever.

"How long will you ramble?"

Fighting exhaustion with visions of being behind the glass wall & all of the excitement that comes with the hope of turning that corner. All these evenings that bleed into morning spent meticulously extracting every minute detail will pay off eventually. We strive to manage time, produce a brilliance that can be appreciated outside of these walls, & constantly move forward; there's a constant motion that occurs, aping the outside world around us. Our dream is to have that alacrity within our designed work-- to divert someone's path to "check out" our built environment. We tell ourselves all of this production-- and constant reproduction- will lead to that someday. We're shaping the world around us one hand drawn line at a time.