blissful labors

Really, I don't think I need to say much more than that, but sometime in the near future I will post the story and everything. Unfortunately, we're meeting friends for dinner. Write more later :)

detour: "professional success"

So, there is a much bigger and more important post to put on here, but this came first and I want to share in chronological order.

I've always been a strong believer in the fact that your profession and/or professional accomplishments do not define who you are. However, getting to produce a space or a product that people get to experience and enjoy is why I do what I do. After being involved in this profession for nearly a decade, I feel like I've hit a real milestone. Sure, I've had a couple of buildings and spaces that I've worked on be built, but I've never had the opportunity to experience them first-hand. . . until now. The Bayfront Amphitheater opened on August 16 with Incubus. It sold out within a couple of hours. Because Live Nation was making so much money on that concert they decided to hold the grand opening on August 18 with Counting Crows. They were pretty much handing out tickets on the sidewalk. It was a great relaxed atmosphere and I was able to get some free tickets for friends. The two of us who worked directly on the project and the principal of our office got VIP tickets. They were nice, but it is such a great venue that no one has a bad seat.

Because I've been working on this thing day in and day out for over a year, I know what it was going to be. And then, like so often happens in my line of work, the budget got slashed. We redesigned it and then the recession hit. That's not to mention the last minute demands put on us by the city either. Overall, I can be pleased with the process and product. I don't think I've experienced all of this enough times yet to be completely jaded. I hope I never will be.

On to the pictures!!

Before:

Yes, those are wooden bench seats and a concrete cantilever over the stage. After:

an explanation

I'm sorry if I frightened anyone. A couple of days after I last posted, I went back and read it. I was dismayed at how depressed it sounded when, in truth, I was doing pretty well when I wrote it. It was a reflection on what had been going on over the past couple of months. It just so happened that I had been meaning to put that piece of art up and then it fell over top of those two songs that I can't get out of my head. Did they encapsulate how I felt? Yes. Do they still? To a degree.

It's been several weeks now, but I let myself be robbed. I didn't know it at the time, but I had become bitter and angry towards God because things in my life weren't happening how I thought they were going to. I harbored those feelings and it started me on a gentle slide towards depression. My joy in obedience and in the freedom granted me had been taken, more accurately, I had tossed it aside. I did not identify it for what it was at the time, but God rescued me from falling into the warmth of that darkness that I have wallowed in before. I can now recognize it for what it was/is. I feel like I'm on the upward slope again.

I'm typical eloquence is gone. My thoughts are mercuric at best - I can't hold on to one long enough to really write anything. It has taken me 45 minutes just to get this out. Obviously, I'm still processing.

Sometimes deconstruction is a gentle process of removal and sometimes it occurs at the business end of a sledge hammer but rest assured deconstruction always occurs so that something else can be raised anew.

Hodgepodge Update

Many of you have asked for an update in one form or another. Because I write and sketch in several other places now, I find it hard to get on here and really say anything profound. Even now, I'm pressed for time. I wanted to at least squeeze this in though:


This lovely photo is of the project I'm currently working on at work. The Bayfront Amphitheater (towards the bottom of the pic) recently put its management up for lease and Live Nation picked it up. Me and another guy are the architects behind its renovation. We'll see what it ends up looking like - and very soon since it has to be ready to open by mid-summer 2009. Needless to say, it's keeping me really busy at work.


This was a recent art project I was working on. It needs refinement, but for a first attempt I think it came out pretty well. It all spurred from a pondering I had several weeks before:

"What better way to say 'I love you' or 'I care' than by giving something that is slowly dieing. If they could, do you think flowers would scream? Or maybe they'd cry or perhaps they would go through cycles of depression and acceptance. Basically, when we put a flower in a vase on our table, we've put a terminally ill patient on life support."

I honestly don't remember what brought that one on. I like the possibilities of the photos though.

"Work"
~Jars of Clay

Just in case, I will leave my things packed
So I can run away
I cannot trust these voices
I don't have a line of prospects that can give some kind of peace
There is nothing left to cling to that can bring me sweet release
I have no fear of drowning
It's the breathing that's taking all this work

Do you know what I mean when I say,"I don't want to be alone"?
What I mean when I say, "I don't want to be alone"

Empty spaces with shadows hit by streetlights
Warning signs and weight of tired conversations
In the absence of a shoulder, in the absence of a thief
On the brink of this destruction, on the eve of bittersweet
Now all the demons look like prophets and I'm living out
Every word they speak, every word they speak

Do you know what I mean when I say "I don't want to be alone"?
What I mean when I say, "I don't want to be alone"
What I mean when I say, "I don't want to be alone"

I have no fear of drowning
It's the breathing that's taking all this work


Keeper
~Yellowcard

I wanna love,
I wanna leave.
I want you to love me,
I want you to leave me.
I want to stand where I can see,
I'm watching you love me,
And I'm watching you leave me now.

I wish i could be,
Somebody else.
I wish i could see,
You and myself.
I wish there was something inside me,
To keep you beside me.
And say,
What you really feel.
You know i need,
Something that's real.
I wish there was something inside me,
To keep you beside me.

I wanna know if i could be,
Someone to turn to,
That could never hurt you.
But i know what you think of me,
You had a breakthrough,
And now i'm just bad news for you.

I wish i could be,
Somebody else.
I wish i could see,
You and myself.
I wish there was something inside me,
To keep you beside me.
And say,
What you really feel.
You know i need,
Something that's real.
I wish there was something inside me,
To keep you beside me.

Design Mix 2008

So there's this nasty little rumor going around that I designed a dress. . . well, to put this straight, it's true. And to top it off, it won an award. This is a bit of a departure from what I typically put up on this blog, but it is the best way to share with everyone who's not on facebook.

Design Mix is a fashion show where architects and interior designers are paired with manufacturing companies to design fashion using the manufacturers products. We were paired with Kimball Office Solutions and were able to use several of their upholstery lines. Fabric is definitely easier than tile or lighting cables or some of the other products firms were working with.

This is the sketch I produced for my concept. I hadn't prepared anything the day that our firm got together for a design charette, but I sketched while everyone was talking. The basic concept was to draw on the woman's movement and the recent spotlight on the middle east. The gown represents a woman discovering her inner beauty. The description at the top right was what was read before our model walked. I'm not sure if it is legible so it says:

In a world obsessed over visual stimulation and external beautification, we seek to transform both perception and definition.
Our gown evolves from closed to open to discarded, bulb to blossom to new growth, dominated to unveiled to free.
Whether a woman is required to wear a burkha or has the freedom to don a bikini, her beauty is found much deeper.

The fashion show and party were held at Vizcaya. It reminds me so much of my time in Italy. Through several personal visits and many more while teaching free-hand drawing, I feel like I've sketched the entire grounds.
The Barge at sunset.
The palazzo at night. The runway was parallel to this facade a little off from the building. The majority of the audience sat with their backs to the water and barge facing in this direction.
This is how the dress actually ended up. This was how she walked onto the runway. She held this position until the mc finished with the intro and the music started. She then slowly walked down the runway and "bloomed."
This after she has bloomed.
This is after she has discarded the heavy outer-layer. Freedom.
This is my boss, the head of our interiors department, our sponsors, and Tricia (our model) receiving our award for Most Innovative.
This is the contingent from ADD Inc that came to support our entry.
No, I'm not blushing. That is a serious sunburn from being on the beach for the majority of the day prior to the event.

One last parting shot. Check out more pictures from the event here. It takes a little while to load, but there are some great shots on there and you can check out the competition.

not even a mustard seed

The past four or five months have been a serious learning experience for me. What's kind of horrible about it is the fact that it has taken me about that long to realize it. God started by working in a more subtle way, but turned the heat on when I started searching for an apartment at the beginning of December.

Even though my lease wasn't up until the end of January, I started looking then because I took a long vacation around the holidays and I was hoping to move out before I left for home. I started looking on the internet and walking around my area. I found a few places that first weekend, but nothing outstanding. I also came to the realization that a 1/1 was going to be hard to come by in my price range. Over the next week, I kept looking. I came across an amazing loft-style apartment that was close to my price range, but I had to turn it down because I was going to be really stretched making ends meet. Shortly thereafter, I found another pretty nice place. I made an appointment to work out the details with the landlord. He didn't make the appointment and then rented it half an hour before our rescheduled time the next day. In the next few days, I felt like I was supposed to be looking more in downtown. If I'm supposed to serve those in need, it is easier to do when you're actually around them more often. I came across a great place in an ok area just north of downtown. It wasn't ideal, but I was willing to move there if it was what God wanted. It got rented out from under me. At this point, it was going to be impossible to find a place and then move in before I left on vacation. Needless to say, I was a little frustrated. Looking back on it, it is far better that I didn't find anything. I was stressed enough trying to make a deadline at work and because my apartment was free a friend's sis and bro-in-law were able to stay there for Christmas and not have to spend the money on a hotel. Oh but we're not done. . .

When I got back from vacation, the amazing loft-style apartment was still on the market. When I called the realtor, she remembered me and dropped the rent into my price range. We set up a meeting for the next morning to sign all the papers and I got a couple of money orders to cover the security deposit. I didn't have a peace from the time I started talking to her. It continued all night. I spent the next morning (Sat) before our meeting reading, praying, and writing. By the time I was done, I had a complete peace about turning the place down. I called the lady and apologized for the roller-coaster, but I just couldn't take it. I had to work that whole weekend, but in the moments where I did have time to search for something God told me not to get on the internet and not to walk around. It was hard, but I waited for him to give the green light. I didn't search for anything until the following Saturday. He told me to walk North. I canvased the neighborhood and only ended up with one lead. I made an appointment to see the place on Monday after work. When we met and looked at it, I was pretty impressed. It was very nice, but the realtor jumped the rent by $120 from what she original told me. As I walked to the grocery store, I knew that it wasn't it. Sometime that evening, it dawned on me what God was teaching me:

If he is the giver of good gifts - not just good, but the best - then I will have to say no to good gifts on the way to receiving the best.

Unexplainable peace overcame me and I knew that I had gotten it. This simple truth applies to everything in my life and I can see where he has been telling me this for a long time. I am so thankful that he chose something as small and rather inconsequential as an apartment to teach this to me than something much larger where I would have cracked long before I'd learned it. My faith grew tremendously over the last month or so and I write this in hopes that it might strengthen your's as well because the story obviously doesn't end here.

After I turned that last one down, I knew that God was going to provide for me on the following Saturday. I didn't even look until then and I wasn't even tempted to. And as promised, he provided. He had me walk South in the morning without much luck, but he confirmed me not looking on the internet or using a realtor through several phone calls. In the afternoon, he had me walk north despite my misgivings since I had walked that route the weekend before. If for no other reason, I then new which signs were new and which ones had been up for a week and I had already called. The sign had been out front for only a couple of days when I called. I also had the security deposit to hand to the landlord that day because God had told me not to deposit the cash from the returned money orders for the loft-style apartment. He even takes care of the little details.

So here are a few pictures of the new place:


Standing in the front door looking at the (from L to R) living area, door into the kitchen, dining area, door into my bedroom, and mantle.

Standing in the corner next to the front window and coat closet looking at the dining area, my bedroom door, the faux fireplace, niche, and front door.


Looking from the dining area into the kitchen. Yes, that is a full size sink! And I dare say it can fit more than one person in it without feeling like you're molesting each other.
A shot from the dining area through my bedroom door looking into the bathroom and my closet. You have no idea how exciting it is to have a closet with a door on it.


This is the best I could do of the bedroom. I'm standing in the corner next to the closet. The bathroom is to my right.

This picture is really just for the hilarity that is the tile pattern and that the last resident put up a plaid shower curtain. I think I'll accent with some neon yellow towels and electric green candles.

suburban delusions

Oh suburbia, a place of neighborhood soccer teams, late summer evenings conversing with neighbors on the street, impromptu football games, church on Sunday, neatly kept yards, etc, etc. We all know it and most of us grew up in it. I can not complain about my years before college. Growing up, I had kids my age in every house on my street. I had a great series of schools that gave me amazing opportunities to learn and explore. I also grew up in a great church that had a thriving youth ministry. All that being said, I have run from it ever since.

I am astounded at the false veils that people surround themselves with in their homogeneous enclaves. Not only do they live in the same homes (six, maybe seven different plans, flipped and mirrored, painted different colors with different front porches) on the exact same size lots (down to the square inch) and drive the same cars (though the Camry and Accord aren't the same family cars they used to be) to do the same things, but they all have the same responses too:

"Howdy neighbor."
"Afternoon."
"How's it going?"
"Great, everything's great." though my family's falling apart, I'm 30 grand in debt, and my dog has fleas

The masks are important though because they maintain distance. In a place where most people live about 20 feet apart, they might as well be miles. No one asks the hard questions or confronts anyone else about their mask in case the questions get turned around. No one really wants to know about anything outside their private realm anyway. That white picket fence might as well be a crenelated stone wall 25 feet high or that front porch and door the blast-door into a bomb shelter. World issues are viewed through the filter and sanitation of the 50" plasma tv while someone truly in need might be someone they happen to see once a month when they go help out at a soup kitchen (as long as their team isn't playing on tv that weekend, then again, they ordered the football package this season).

I have never been truly starving nor have I ever had to sleep on the streets before and I'm sure that I just made enough vast generalizations that if anyone were to actually read this thing that there would be a bounty of comments, but this is why I run from suburbia. It is not just a place, it is a mentality - a mindset devoted to comfort above all else. And as I observe each day, it is obvious that the mere sight of someone in need or the aroma of the street wafting into our general vicinity grips that comfort by the throat and squeezes.

I wish I could shout, scream, carry a huge neon sign that they are people too. Al, Robbie, and the thousands like them are people damn it. They are no less than you or I, but they are certainly more. Their eyes are open - they see humanity and people for who they are. They don't care about what car you drive or where you live, what school you went to, or how much is in your 401(k). They are adept at seeing people's hearts though. Within seconds, they know exactly what kind of person you are - some take advantage of this knowledge while others just observe. For people who live under the auspices of bruised rainbows and dieing stars, you'd be amazed at what a heart-felt smile can do. The simple acknowledgment returns dignity and a sense of self. Imagine if you actually stopped and reached out a hand and struck up a conversation, but beware, Comfort will be there blinding you with "Oh, everything's great."

awesomely bad facial hair

". . . you don't realize how enslaved they are to the pressure of the ordinary." ~Screwtape in C.S. Lewis's Screwtape Letters

As a practical joke on our friends Chris and Mandy, the three of us from Miami that were groomsmen in their wedding decided to grow out some facial hair before their big day. They hadn't seen us in a couple of months and wouldn't before we arrived on the day of the rehearsal. This joke was really to accomplish two things (1) to see if Matt could actually grow facial hair - he started four weeks before we arrived at the wedding and actually managed a spectacular molestache (2) to try and throw Chris off. We had managed to do it once before when we threw him a surprise party, but the man is a rock.


The night before the three of us left for Indy, I had to create a masterpiece. It is one thing to just show up with a beard; it is another to go with some serious chops and a chin-strap!


I know, it is a thing of beauty and you just can't contain yourself in the ethereal glow of its awesomeness. Matt on the other hand looks like he needs to be wearing a leisure suit.

The prank was funny and really threw Mandy's father and Chris's mother off though Chris and Mandy both contained their shock pretty well. Oh, and my favorite, the presiding minister shot me some looks that I'm sure were "in brotherly love." They were all very relieved when we shaved before the wedding.

The reason I write though is for our journey, not our destination or the final results. When we first discussed the prank, I didn't really think of the fact that we were going to have to travel looking like whatever we came up with. We left out of the Ft. Lauderdale airport and had to transfer in Philadelphia. I was in jeans, a t-shirt, and the John Deere hat (because it truly completed the look). I was amazed at the looks like I got - and they weren't checking me out because they wanted to break themselves off a piece of my fine self. The laughs and giggles were fun too.

I really liked to think of myself being above concern for what others thought of me or how they viewed me, especially strangers in passing. I've never really been apart of the "in crowd" in my life and in high school I decided I didn't really care. I embraced my inner-dork and it has been incredibly freeing. Going to a school full of them helped a bit too ;) All that being said, I realized that I still had a desire to seem "ordinary," as C.S. Lewis puts it. By the time we got to the Indianapolis airport, I was enjoying it though. I liked that people automatically made assumptions about who I was and I knew I wasn't that person at all. I could see the comments in their eyes as we passed. I'll admit that there were times when I wanted to prove it to them so I could shove their assumptions in their faces, but I had to turn the situation around on myself. How often do I look at someone and judge them for how they look? Or assume that I know who they are because of what they're dressed like?

When I shaved that night, I was kind of sad to see the persona wash down the drain, but I would have felt like I was ruining Chris and Mandy's wedding pictures. I'm not sure that any of us truly realize how enslaved we are to the ordinary, the norm, society, our preconceived ideas of what someone else might think of us. Oh to loose these tethers. . . . and this all from a beard.