Thursday, September 22, 2005
Architecture in America
This might be slightly illegal as I'm not citing the artist, but I can if absolutely requested.
I work for an architecture firm. We were recently commissioned by a small rural resort town in Maryland to develop a performing arts facility. We have done several, and they're all quite good actually.
I know first hand that the path to greatness is derived from inspiration, and inspiration can hit you at any moment.
The picture here is an obvious hand sketch made during dinner, in the car, at a recital, or some other venue not encapsulated in a cubicle. I understand and actually appreciate that.
But why must the artist (using that term loosely), request that we use this striking image to help sell our expertise?
Expertise in what? Fingerpaint?
I work for an architecture firm. We were recently commissioned by a small rural resort town in Maryland to develop a performing arts facility. We have done several, and they're all quite good actually.
I know first hand that the path to greatness is derived from inspiration, and inspiration can hit you at any moment.
The picture here is an obvious hand sketch made during dinner, in the car, at a recital, or some other venue not encapsulated in a cubicle. I understand and actually appreciate that.
But why must the artist (using that term loosely), request that we use this striking image to help sell our expertise?
Expertise in what? Fingerpaint?
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Tragic
I have let my regular postings lapse over the past few weeks due to nothing but laziness. I finished moving, started looking for a new job, and took some time to enjoy the summer sun. I took some “me time”. Well, in light of the recent situation in the US Gulf South, I realized I had taken enough “me time” and should recognize the grief and suffering of so many in this desperate time.
My primary purpose for posting on this site is to point out the humorous eccentricities of human nature as people around me go about their daily business. I find some of my humor in people who are rude or callus, while others amuse me by being completely oblivious of their peculiar habits. Some people just make me wonder as they try to make it through day by day.
Today, however, I offer my sympathy for the people of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama, their families, and their livelihood in the hopes that they may be able to return to the normalcy that so often inspires me.
In May 2004, I was sent to New Orleans for a conference. There were three of us, but I was there for four days longer than the rest of my colleagues. In my downtime, I took advantage of the opportunity to visit nearly every unique place in the French Quarter, walk to the Garden District, Explore the Central Business District, part with some cash at the casinos and soak up the southern atmosphere at its finest. I instantly fell in love with all that New Orleans had to offer.
As a lone traveler, I relied on fellow conference attendees and locals for conversation. I remember the first day I was there; I tried jambalaya for the first time. My server had the distinct bayou accent I have come to adore. He gave me information about where to go and where not to, and gave me a history of the city he called home for more than sixty years. I went to a few bars and ran into some barkeeps and local patrons who hated the northeast yet loved you just for saying hi. I left the city and could not wait to return again soon to see the people and culture that truly captivated me.
I now find myself glued to the TV not unlike September 2001, unable to comprehend what must be going on in the minds of the people affected by mother nature’s carnage. I keep thinking about one of the barkeeps I met. He lived in the quarter and worked in the quarter, having no need for a car. Is he one of those who decided to stay and wait it out only to have perished in the following day’s terror. What about Jambalaya man? Had the city he loved for more than a half century loved him back?
To anyone directly affected by this tragedy, I want you to know that I am in awe of your courage. You will be in my thoughts for some time. For those inspired by this posting to find ways to help in this time of need, please visit the American Red Cross, Salvation Army, or many of the other charitable organizations so quick to respond.
With love and thoughts. Jason.
My primary purpose for posting on this site is to point out the humorous eccentricities of human nature as people around me go about their daily business. I find some of my humor in people who are rude or callus, while others amuse me by being completely oblivious of their peculiar habits. Some people just make me wonder as they try to make it through day by day.
Today, however, I offer my sympathy for the people of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama, their families, and their livelihood in the hopes that they may be able to return to the normalcy that so often inspires me.
In May 2004, I was sent to New Orleans for a conference. There were three of us, but I was there for four days longer than the rest of my colleagues. In my downtime, I took advantage of the opportunity to visit nearly every unique place in the French Quarter, walk to the Garden District, Explore the Central Business District, part with some cash at the casinos and soak up the southern atmosphere at its finest. I instantly fell in love with all that New Orleans had to offer.
As a lone traveler, I relied on fellow conference attendees and locals for conversation. I remember the first day I was there; I tried jambalaya for the first time. My server had the distinct bayou accent I have come to adore. He gave me information about where to go and where not to, and gave me a history of the city he called home for more than sixty years. I went to a few bars and ran into some barkeeps and local patrons who hated the northeast yet loved you just for saying hi. I left the city and could not wait to return again soon to see the people and culture that truly captivated me.
I now find myself glued to the TV not unlike September 2001, unable to comprehend what must be going on in the minds of the people affected by mother nature’s carnage. I keep thinking about one of the barkeeps I met. He lived in the quarter and worked in the quarter, having no need for a car. Is he one of those who decided to stay and wait it out only to have perished in the following day’s terror. What about Jambalaya man? Had the city he loved for more than a half century loved him back?
To anyone directly affected by this tragedy, I want you to know that I am in awe of your courage. You will be in my thoughts for some time. For those inspired by this posting to find ways to help in this time of need, please visit the American Red Cross, Salvation Army, or many of the other charitable organizations so quick to respond.
With love and thoughts. Jason.
