"You own me. There's nothing you can do."

As I try to assess & work through this semester's frustrations, I still feel that occasional rush of energy when something within a project begins to reveal itself. It's one of those instances when design-- and the process- begins to show its true colors; these moments come & go-- their capricious revelations go hand in hand with trying to figure out our own process. It's a reminder of why I began studying architecture in the first place; those mysterious situations that make you stop in your tracks to admire someone's work will always materialize as you develop a further knowledge of something you love. As we move forward in our studies, we begin to have these beautiful revelations at a higher frequency. 

Even moments away from school have turned into talks on design. As I sat at the bar with a fellow Pratt architecture student, we started talking about how we judge the design of everything we see, including the female form (my attempt at humor was saying that a particular girl standing near by was not designed using the Golden Section). We talked about what we would do after architecture-- if we were so inclined to try something new-- but agreed that we couldn't see ourselves doing that for quite some time. I have already switched paths (English/World Lit. to Architecture) & I would like to believe I'll be practicing until the last days of my life. The fact that design encompasses so much of life makes me excited to begin working on every new project I can & use everything that isn't "architecture" to influence or propel a design project. 

After registering for Summer classes, I have found something to look forward to as this semester whimpers along towards an end we're all looking forward to just to end the school-wide frustrations we encounter. Every (new) studio allows for a new way to look at things, a new perspective from someone in the field, & the opportunity to show just how much of our daily life is effected by what we study. 

"It tries to kill me, but I kill it first."

The general feeling of frustration --bordering on apathy- is starting to build amongst my peers. There's a sense of confusion this semester brought on by the selection process of a new Department Chair & the past week's visit from the NAAB team. The usual go-to rut breakers have all been run dry as we try to figure out just what is happening here. We feel like a bunch of lame duck students as our future-- as well as the future of our program- is decided by people other than ourselves. While I make a vigilant effort to not engage in any politics or gossip within the process, it's becoming nearly impossible to not voice an opinion when it has such a grave effect on my future not only here at Pratt, but in the design world at large.

I have been incessantly referring to the idea of "killin' it 24/7 forever"; this concept relates to making my work something I can be proud to present or use to represent my efforts & talents as a designer. This notion was derived from various sources: an interview with pro skater Anthony Pappalardo for VBS' Epicly Later'd, Coalesce's "Where the Hell is Rick Thorne These Days", a tongue-in-cheek phrase from my friend Tim, & the overall feeling of needing to "make my mark" on the design world. There are plenty more sources that have contributed to this idea; it grows daily as I investigate it more & more.

The notion of being in a rut has begun to set it. Am I just spinning my wheels here or is there some deeper meaning to this are of confusion? Is there any sort of action that I can use to make sure I'm getting the best out of my education as it sits stagnant? I've discussed this with a friend feeling the same way about our school-- his attitude is much more "fuck this!" than mine. Is there anyway we can be subversive-- preferably through our design process- and still somehow "break it down from the inside"? How can I continue to "kill it" as I question exactly what I'm supposed to be killing?  These are the questions that I'm looking to answer. Any advice is greatly appreciated.

"We're gonna rise above."

These slow-paced days are waning. All that talk of needing a break seemed so jejune when I got back into the studio. Who could want a break from the myriad of inspiration & unadulterated production? We find patterns of work & glimpses of pure genius in unexpected places. We align & realign out allegiance to the people we see prosper not to hitch onto their coattails, but to gain a bit of that blinding light we're all seeking. A rebirth of our generation is occurring on a daily basis within these walls. I'm both grateful & responsible for the opportunity.

"We were sleeping until you came along."

As I walked around the Whitney Museum of American Art, I couldn't help but realize how solemn the building felt as a whole. The closest thing to ebullient were the apertures on the north facade, inserted at odd angles against the tyrannical orthogonality of the building's facade. These moments helped to express the feelings of joy I experienced from the work of Roni Horn, despite the fact my favorite works-- Another Water- were not located in the rooms with these windows. Every stairwell felt like an opportunity to begin anew, to view something with fresh eyes, & I think the decision to take the stairs helped that feeling. Movement in a space is always a vital aspect, something we might take for granted on a daily basis.
After visiting the museum, I walked through Central Park and was immediately reminded of the scale of the city. It's these brief moments of cognizance we should alway remember; short, yet truly heavy, moments that help us to realign ourselves. Those moments of confusion or dread are wiped away in one swift motion & we're immediately ardent to engage in new tasks. I left the city with my head a bit clearer during this break. I became a bit more aware of my ability to produce outside of the studio & found the simple push needed to do so.