curious timing for an appearance

I'm awake at 5:45 a.m. on a Sunday for no clear reason. I've been sleeping poorly lately. I blamed it on temporary work stress, then not eating well... and had a few disturbingly unrepeatable dreams that I blamed on alcohol and am definitely hoping do not persist. I'm normally such a fan of sleeping that this is baffling me.

I've also not been able to maintain blogging, if you notice the long lag between timestamps. Are these things at all related? Is my NYC lifestyle affecting me on a level I'm unaware of? Should I be concerned about my Id?

I've noted the pace of NYC before- here we're all working, working, going, scurrying, doing things. I have often classified myself as more of a think-er than a do-er, and sometimes appreciate that this town encourages me to do more. Here I feel it's less natural to step back and think, relax. Sometimes it does overwhelm me... but not entirely. My head is above water, but I do think I'm affected by the frenetic aspect of this town. We work. We drink. We wake up and think about work on our way there. We play hard on the weekends, always planning where we're going, what activity is next.

When people ask me how I like New York, I say I love it, for now. This Manhattan life feels to me like like an indefinite break from the real world, an extended childhood. It is unsustainable, though. You live in 200 square feet. You have no commitments outside yourself. You spend most of the money you work so hard for chasing the circus of pleasures that make up the city. You are often drunk. You meet many, many more people than you would elsewhere, but relationships are often fleeting and superficial.

Normally not one for big moves, I significantly changed the color of my hair yesterday. I'm not sure if this is portentous, or whether it's a fleeting itch that happens to coincide with a minor malaise. Guess we'll see.

purse inventory

an observation on the contents of my life

In an effort to bide time before going out with friends after work, I am cleaning out my purse. Looking inside, the contents of the bag you carry around could be reflective of the mind- mine might be described as notably eclectic and mildly amusing while also maintaining a thread of logic and utility.

• envelope of tomato seeds
• two single earrings
• three tiny containers of fancy hand lotion, one additional bottle of organic sunscreen
• two tape measures, one resembling a pig, one resembling a cat
• accordion map of manhattan
  
• referral for podiatrist [ :( ]
• one nyc-standard-issue tiny umbrella
• four lipsticks, two lip glosses, two chapsticks
• three concert ticket stubs
  
• one ticket for Amateur Night at the Apollo Theater
• one strip of photobooth shots taken at Archie McPhee's in Seattle, travelling in my purses for approximately two years, waiting to be scanned (in this series, one individual wearing rocker mullet, one individual wearing viking hat)
• two airtrain JFK tickets (expired), one Metro card (active)
• one button
• one wet-nap
• one exploding wallet, full of change I accrue and avoid spending (quarters saved for laundry, pennies are annoying), and an excessive variety of customer "rewards" cards I rarely, if ever, use.
  
• six paper perfume testers (kept for handbag ambiance)
• one takeout menu advertizing deli sandwiches, caviar, foie gras, and "fabulous selection of cheeses."
• one Washington State Department of Transportation-issued vial of hand sanitizer
• one loose dollar bill
• large-lens sunglasses (again, standard-issue nyc)

Of course there's always a ridiculous collection of miscellaneous receipts by the time I get to cleaning them out; my favorites are the ones you get at the grocery store after buying toilet paper and milk- two yards long, full of promotions for seventy-five cents off your next cat litter.

I managed to evict the stainless steel coffee mug (holla holla, cafe ladro in seattle) from my purse recently that somehow stowed away to travel across the country with me, riding around on my shoulder in Seattle and Portland for a week in hundred-degree weather. I have seasonally suspended its work permit.

now playing: wilco- "distance has a way of making love understandable"

twilight zone

Not that it really came out of the blue, but my professional life has turned haywire with a sudden jerky acceleration of a downward cycle of my office. Bad economy combined with a tremendous flux of people and work here put the design office I began working in eight months ago into a spin at pretty much the same time I started. There were maybe two awesome morale-building events the month I started at this fancy-looking penthouse office with a stunning view, and then things started to turn sour.

So here we are eight months later, three rounds of layoffs and twenty-five less people later, and we're starving in the drought. In a couple weeks more than half of us will be on reduced salaries. Not all, and not equitably, which has caused stress. I am lucky enough to be in the first round and have my salary reduced to nearly half... 24 hours. Ouch.

I'm getting resourceful and contacting my firm's offices in other cities in an effort to take control of my own destiny. Normally I'm a bit of a passive individual, but I can't make it long on half pay in Manhattan. I wasn't that flush to begin with, with rent that's half my salary.

I have moments of frustration, but I maintain that this is all an opportunity. I may rewrite my identity and destiny if the circumstances bring major change. Part of me thinks that I have a lot more in me than I'm using right now; I have the potential to be a modern renaissance girl if I ever develop the gumption and plan to try it. Writing, art, craft, botany, community service, education, and environmental awareness are all things I'm pretty passionate about and could love working more on if the opportunity arose.

If it all comes down to it, I still love Seattle. Going back at the end of the summer would feel like the experience was brought to a premature end, but it's been pretty great as it is.

One should love and embrace what they've had for what it was, what one has currently for what it is and may become, and anticipate all that one may have in the future. It makes this unsure period kind of exhilarating. Mystery writing, museum-guiding, city-blogging, garden-designing me, here I come...

re-entry

There's nothing like a 5-hour plane ride to catch up on the calmly-sitting-down activities one misses out on while busy with the daily distractions of life. I find that sometimes I don't find time to do these calmer activities I love as well; it is not until I have limited options that I return to the taking-in: periodicals, novels, reflections.

I'm headed back from a visit to my native Northwest. It's the first time I've been back since settling in in New York City. What an experience. I was badly in need of a break from a stressful work-heavy life. As soon as I set foot in Seattle, it was like resuming my life in a parallel universe- a glamorized one, where everyone is elated to see you every day, and you don't have to work for a living.

It has made me melancholy, however. I am having a blast with my current life in New York City, but visiting my old haunts and immersing myself back in my considerably heftier and deeper social circles that I developed over many years in Seattle makes me reflect upon my decision to leave. What if I had turned right instead of left at the fork in the road? It's not as if I left Seattle to return to it preserved the same- others' lives have evolved as well: relocation, newly single friends, changed careers, and babies are all things that I experience from afar by having chosen wings over roots.

The diversity and dynamism of New York City continues to delight me, but as a six-month resident I am by no means at home there. Returning to the place that formed me, the culture which gave me my values and sense of place in the world hit me more than I expected on this trip. In New York I learn to live and succeed among the A-types; I find myself proactively searching to find social and recreational opportunities in a sea broad with them, but which is not easy to penetrate in depth. The sheer magnitude is one thing; the added layer of the limited personal sphere (mine is about 215 square feet) within the grand urban circus also makes the contrast between a previously intimate social circle and the social experience in the dense mega-city- loud bars and restaurants full of slews of beautifully-adorned people who may be delightful and insightful but have no ties to you. It is only by passing thousands of these people on the way to the bar/bathroom/barista that you may meet someone you'll connect with in a way that's deeper than a bump, glance, or few lines of flirtation. There is no equal to having the joy and comfort of a deep social circle.

I also miss the culture of Seattle and the West Coast. Though I find myself fascinated by the directness and outgoing tendencies of New Yorkers, the richness of art and culture in the city, and delight in the depth of history and architectural richness that it offers in comparison to the west coast, there are plenty of differences I notice in terms of culture and values that make me miss Seattle. The idealism and cerebral nature of the northwest- there are a lot of people who genuinely aim to use their lives as tools for good in the world. There is more of an aim for personal success that fuels those in New York. It may be the circles I ran in in Seattle, but I miss the we're-in-this-together mentality of the (liberal and urban, yes) west coast.

And so I return to New York, with my rockin' East Village apartment location, 2.5 close friends, office full of corporate growing pains, transition, and layoffs, and increasingly scorching warm-season temperatures, and I wonder what my duration will be here. Will I feel like more of a local in another year, and not ponder the what-ifs I do now? Will I fall in love with a person / a group of people / my career/ a neighborhood that will make me feel rooted and calm and content, or will the bright lights and big city maintain my wonder for a while, but allow me to move on after a year or two?

On verra... But I shall continue to miss the air in the northwest with my every breath. If you have lived in another major city, you likely know what I'm talking about. Seattle air is incomparably clean and crisp and fresh, smelling like rain and healthy soil and feeling like therapy itself as it courses through your lungs on a cool evening. New York air isn't bad at all, compared to many European and American cities I've visited (sorry Rome, you were somewhat an atmospheric ashtray/stadium restroom)- but the Gotham air is a little stale and humid on a good day, and biting and blustery on a bad one.

Signing off in my re-entry to the bright lights, big city...

hello goodbye

Spring is creeping forth... the weather hit sixty degrees over the weekend and the city seemed to take a deep breath and in its exhale, express a volume of people from its confines that I didn't realize existed. The sidewalks were congested with every sort of imaginable personality, many of them with alter personalities in canine form. There are an amazing amount of people with dogs (albeit smaller, as a mean) in this city, especially given the size homes we have.

The weather this week is set to be in the forties and somewhat grey and rainy... perfect for the seattlite, especially after the streak of days in the teens and tens. as the weather transforms from bitterly icy toward balmy, I can feel change on so many levels. I've gotten news from Seattle in the past few days, some surprising, some interesting, and some downright shocking- a dear friend has ended a long relationship; a former coworker has committed suicide. The managing principal in my office has resigned and they are replacing him with a her, and she's incredible; a visionary, insightful and a breath of fresh air in the office I felt to be so much a boys' club since I started. she speaks of the "seismic change" occurring in the world and country and even especially new york, and how it's an opportunity. She is the Femme-Obama.

In this "time of uncertainty," where my office has laid off nearly a third of its staff and may have to do so again, and people across the country are without jobs and homes and major corporations are disappearing into the annals of history, we need reassurance. Though I wasn't surprised to see the economy dive down to even out after years of exponential growth, I've been relatively optimistic as to its impacts. Though change is almost always hard somehow, it's essential and needed to keep momentum. However, in this town, where so many are so focused on personal and financial success and the cost of staying afloat is so high, sometimes it's natural to get caught up in the concerns of how all the change may negatively impact us. It's very refreshing to hear someone speak of how these changes may positively impact us, and reshape our work and the world as we know it for the better.

Lately things have been constantly inconstant- less coworkers, different coworkers; people getting engaged to start new lives together, people breaking up to start new lives on their own; many babies born, people passing. In the early part of today I took the first test in a series of five intensive licensure exams (our equivalent of the bar exam); later today I was stuck in the back of the office scanning dozens and dozens of large-format drawing edits and found myself questioning my chosen career path.

But you know, I dig it all. I love it. I'm not sure if it's the place I am physically, or mentally, but the concept of endless possibility is completely invigorating to me right now. Start working partially within the company as a firm photographer? maybe. Return to the northwest to an old flame? maybe. Move to France? maybe... become an environmental artist?...redirect my career path toward writing?.... find someone to have kids and have a calm life with?... yeah, maybe that too, eventually. Bring it.

Bring the fresh spring breezes finding their way to the city- I am enjoying my newly-perceived status as a pawn of fate. Bring them and I'll tumble along like the foam thrust across the sand by the breaking surf.

listening: Black Keys' Attack and Release

...they were the worst of times

as a followup related to my previous happy post...

It's funny how we're constantly hearing recession recession recession economy economy economy and I still don't feel like it directly affects me one bit. I still have a job. I have friends (also in the architecture industry) without jobs, so I say this and knock on wood, as though I've been at my firm quite a while, I don't want to jinx anything. If I were to lose my job (like all the WAMU employees in Seattle), then I might be singing a different tune.

However, my circumstances, lifestyle and viewpoint have left me unscathed. My money is not in stocks. I don't rely on sales or commissions for my income, and I don't own a home to lose value. I don't spend a lot of money on things, and I certainly don't think about money that much. The tiny socialist/communist inside of me is quite pleased with the recession. Does that sound blasphemous?

My outlook, further explained: I like the economy slowing down because our economy was so unnaturally consumptive, like some gurgling, belching, shitting monster, that it was unhealthy. We all are now beginning to re-evaluate... the driving of giant gas-slurpers, the constant replacement of absolute-newest technologies, the entitlement to travel often, the bottled water. The culture of owning and not sharing, of consuming and not conserving. The exponential growth multiplied until it exploded and crashed.

And now we learn that life is more than economic growth. And I like that, because there is so much more richness to human existence than many seem to imagine. Take a breath- stop watching the DOW, stop shopping online, and enjoy dinner with your parents. Listen to some music before you go to bed instead of fiddling with an iphone; watch fireflies and moths in the evenings.

Screw the economy. History shows that art flourishes during harder economic times. People think differently. More creatively, perhaps, because they don't have the luxury of not thinking carefully. So now we are free to sit around and tell stories, or play poker, or make collages. We can have a less-lavish holiday and enjoy eachother's presence; let our hair grow a littler scragglier between cuts and put less meat in our sandwiches. Because it's the most capitalistic folk who are feeling the pinch, so who's going to judge now, even if they would have before?

It's a hard lesson to learn, for many of us. It's too bad for those who took mortgages that it turns out they couldn't afford. It's hard to be unemployed. It's hard for small businesses and the self-employed to stay afloat. But I do beleive that it's a lesson that life does go on- we have to learn- of conserving, of being creative and careful, of being thoughtful and ingenuitive. The identity our culture had gained- of being over-consumptive, of hoarding, and as big and fat and excessive and dumb and wasteful, was not something I identified with as a person. I didn't enjoy calling myself an American, or even more generally, a westerner, when those cultural associations came along. We are also a culture of pioneers, of entrepreneurs, and idealists; of craftsmen, and of great artists, and now is our time to show that we have not lost that cultural identity.

And that is exciting, and heartening. I realize that the stoic "it's good for you" outlook that was installed in me by my German/Scandinavian upbringing may sound harsh. But it's true that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. We were getting too soft, too flabby and spineless as a culture, and now we can all re-evaluate. It is a great thing.

they were the best of times

I am doing what I really want to be doing with my life right now. That's pretty awesome. A year ago I didn't have too much of an idea what I wanted to be doing. I was a bit at a loss.

I would say I'm a pretty passionate/opinionated person about things that are important to me, and one of those things is doing good things with one's energy. I think it's our duty, especially those of us with decent educations, to use our faculties to make a positive impact.


I became a landscape architect because I wanted to make great places, for people and for the world. When I started working, I began to learn how ideology crossed with pragmatism in everyone's life in different ways, and started trying to figure out how to simultaneously live for my own well-being and happiness as well as do right by the world.

Situational difficulties and distractions took precedence for a year or two, and I found myself asking where I really wanted to be, as I was struggling to feel passionate about what I was doing with life.

I wouldn't have been able to predict that where I'd eventually take myself would be so great for me both personally and professionally. I made a gamble based on a social/cultural instinct, and it's turning out to be wonderful for me with regard to my life's efforts and personal/professional focus. I'm designing for environmental education in urban environments as I've been aiming to do since my research grant on environmental learning.

My current project work has me designing public schoolyards in Brooklyn: completely barren asphalt yards to be turned into proper playgrounds through contracts from New York Department of Parks. It is so rewarding to be working with students and communities in designing better learning and community spaces, and helping people learn and grow to value their environments by providing them with good ones.

I have been going through series of meetings and design charettes with school staff, community members, and young students themselves. Working with them directly is such an important and tangible reminder as to why I do what I do every day. There were days when I'd be at work in Seattle and question whether I was doing what I really what I found valuable with my 9 hours every day. So I made a change, and the opportunity waiting for me turned out to be wonderful.

Oddly enough, I'm working for the same firm, and the office environment and culture can be more stressful and difficult by far than my old office. Granted, I'm still getting accustomed, and don't have the luxury of experience or comfort in the big, new, New York office. But I enjoy it because I love what I'm working on, and it's a challenge. I can't imagine using my brain and finite time on earth to do something like trade stocks or sell ads or take photos of famous people or fly charter jets, no matter how capable I was, or how financially rewarding it was. I spent some time teaching myself how to balance personal benefit with that of others in life and work, but I still believe passionately that we owe it to eachother to do right by our communities. We have responsibilities in concentric rings: from within -ourselves- to those close to us, radiating outward to our outermost communities of global proportions. Call your mother, send a card to remind her you love her. Travel less, consume less to remind your fellow global citizens you love them, too.

So here's to you, PS 170. Even if the economy was great, I can't imagine myself taking a resort-design position to make more money and receive the immediate gratification of travel. Your kids are awesome and I feel honored to be given the opportunity to do right by all of you.

adult imposters

A good friend of mine and I were talking recently when we both admitted that in some respects, our lives feel like a sham. Mid-twenties and learning the ropes of adulthood, we were sitting chatting over cocktails, talking about our place in the world. She's getting married, I'm making a big life and career move, and we had gone shopping for work clothes. We were talking about tailored clothes, and all of a sudden we both came to the conclusion that we still feel like children going through the motions that seem to be right for adults, and that is required by our lives to get along as we are expected.

We are sloppy, quirky fools just trying to keep it together enough to not be found out by everyone around us... the truth being that we are shams. Runny-nosed, sloppy-penmanshipped, spaghetti-on-your-chin imposters of grown-ups. But I guess maybe that's what everyone is; just getting along in this world for the first time? Some of us have varying degrees of external grace, perhaps...and confidence. With confidence, you can probably make spaghetti sauce look good.

a dark place

yeah, it's night... but that's not necessarily what I'm getting at.

I came back from the weekend feeling totally unrested, and today I've been kind of out of it. Some of this can be rationalized, but for some reason I find myself generally in a bad mood. I will blame part of this on hormones. I could blame some as well on the cooling weather and shortening days (I can smell SAD in the air)...

Sometimes I wonder how much of our temperments, our moods, are intrinsic to our beings. Sounds a little ridiculous and esoteric, perhaps, but our minds are all built differently, and the network within is all interconnected. In this age of Zoloft, Ritalin, Vallium, and Xanax, I wonder about the affects this has on our personalities. What is innate, and what is fixable or expendable? Our individual creativities... substances that alter our brain chemistries most certainly do alter us as people, if only temporarily.

I get very frustrated when I can't find my keys about 2/3 of the time I go to leave, or continuously forget things at home. I am embarrassingly disorganized at times. Sometimes I'd like to take a pill and have it all fall into place- I fold my clothes and put them away when I take them off. I put the bread back in the drawer when I'm done with it. I file my bills rather than strewing them about the kitchen table.

But it's not my nature. I don't focus my energy on the routine. I am creative, and though rational, somewhat frenetic. If I were to alter my mind to be more routine and focused, I would likely lose the part of me that sees humor in junk mail advertisements, that can find a use for a random found doll leg (friends' mailboxes, of course), or can devise grandiose collages out of bus transfers gathered over 9 months. The part of me that can add coconut and almonds to a cupcake and get a creature that's a striking bunny resemblance, without recipes. I'd probably lose the embarrassingly explosive laugh tendency, or my excessive inquisitiveness, both that define me. So who would I be then? I guess that's what keeps me putting up with repeated incidents of leaving my travel mug full of coffee at home in the morning. Sometimes I wish I wasn't the person sacrificing sleep hours the night before a client meeting to repeatedly adjust the size of a picture of Salvador Dali with a funny looking cat to fit her blog entry.

I think about famous artists, the crazy ones. The Pollacks and the Van Goghs and the Dalis. We all know that plenty of artists experimented with drugs in the name of creativity (Toulouse Lautrec, Jimi Hendrix...), but where would the odd souls have been, creatively, had we had the magic back them to diagnose disorders and tendencies and made them more even-keeled? What would our playhouses, art galleries, and concert halls be like?

When it comes down to it, we are all both individuals, responsible for our own happiness and well-being, and members of a society, responsible for the effect we have on our communities and societies. We have to strike as healthy of a balance as we can between those responsibilities.

I'm going to chew on that. And go to sleep- and I hope I wake up a little happier version of myself tomorrow.

beijing

I, like many skeptics, have been somewhat hesitant to embrace the olympics. Between the commercialization and the controversy this year with China's environmental and human rights/political controversies, I found the entire situation to be a little unsettling.

However, viral circumstances caused me to cancel my plans tonight for a date with kleenex and remote, and I ended up planted in front of the 2008 Olympics opening ceremonies.

I cried. I oohed and ahhed. I vowed to go to China. I've never been all that interested in going to China, but those ceremonies made it seem pretty kickass.

Though I do have an odd weakness for on-screen sentimentality, the presentation of the ceremonies was really phenomenal and well thought out in its own right. China is at a very crucial time in its development as a modern country, and it's really interesting to see how they choose to present themselves as a culture and nation given all that they're dealing with.

The ceremonies were stunning- a great show of firepower, technology, and artistry. Fireworks, dancers, LCD projections, people on cables flying through the air- it had the elements you expect, but were unusually uniquely and well-woven together with impressive artistic and technical craft. It told a story about China's history and culture and its future role in the world.

What I really liked, though, was that for as "westernized" as we say China is becoming, this wasn't just a big generic happy show overlayed with silk and calligraphy. There were impressive undertones of significantly Chinese nature- the repeated scenes of 2008 (in quantity) perfectly-synchronized dancers, drummers, and martial artists all spoke loudly of the traditional significance of the group in asian cultures, and of communism. Opening with the many many drummers was so intense it was intimidating, but it was entirely fascinating to see those incredible group scenes operate en masse with such military precision. There was also a clear message about the children being inheritors of our legacy and environment, which was kind of poignant. In my interpretation, the way that the designers choose to tell their story is a fascinating statement about the culture in itself.

As a sidebar, one of the scenes was when they had 2008 people come out onto the floor with parasol-like contraptions that expanded into these big round photographs of faces of smiling children from around the world. Sounds kind of cliche, but it was pretty cool in reality, and of course, made me cry.

Of course, as a designer who works in Asia and other foreign locales upon occasion, I thought the whole design element of the production was fascinating as well. I've found that the Asian aesthetic oftentimes tends to be much more bold and colorful than those of most western cultures. A lot of our design packages going off to or being done withinin China or Korea end up looking like Fantasia to me compared to the stuff we do here in the Northwest, so I was curious to see how the presentation played out. It was certainly bold, and very colorful, and very impressive, but it was really well done so as to not be excessive or gaudy, while still being notable, and I was impressed. Just the design of the new stadium, the Nest, as it's being called, is amazing and iconic.

My sketchy memory may work to my statement's advantage, but this seems significantly more notable than any other Olympics design or presentation before. It's a momentous point in China's history, and they're really trying to live up to it.

Now if only they will use that momentum, and implement the magic they're able to work in pyrotechnics, fancy LCDs, and rhythmic determination into their air and water quality management soon, and stop bulldozing ancient traditional homes for giant high-rises, and let the poor Tibetans decide what to do with themselves, and...

Jennifer, Tiffany, Stephanie

an observation

I have an irk. Maybe not an irk, per se, I'm not sure what to call it. Maybe it's just some snobbery. I can, unfortunately, be prone to that. But one of my pet peeves is dated, faddish names.

These names are destined to potentially make individuals sound bland and vapid to their peers for the rest of their lives; they are so common and singular to a decade that they can only be associated with the cocktail servers and student athletes/ ASB representatives in highschool whose names were repeated often enough to leave a generic impression of overuse on my brain. I may overprioritize uniqueness by others' standards (after all I am a designer), but I don't understand why a parent would want to brand their infant child with an identity that is bound to be unoriginal and stereotyped with time. Is your family that lame? It's not a good omen.

They are the Jennifers, the Tiffanys, the Stephanies, maybe even the Katies of my generation. They are the Judys of my mother's generation, and the Bettys of my grandmother's. I am bound to offend someone, here (my grandmother's name is, after all, Betty, and one of my closest friends a Jennifer, but I give her the benefit of the doubt because her parents are Chinese and there is oftentimes a funny cultural thing that happens when Asians take Anglo names. Plus I don't think she knows I have a blog. ;) )

Historically, male names have been a little less prone to these fads. It seems as though there has always been a smaller pool of names that have been drawn from. Also, possibly the mindset of naming girls is different from naming boys. Socio-cultural gender norms probably also play a role- the idea the men should grow up to be solid providers may lead to boys being more often given classic, traditional names. The feminine identity that families envision their little girls to grow up to have might be more prone to vary with cultural norms of the time and consequently become more influenced by trends. It's a theory. Maybe female self-criticism and general bitchiness just causes me to perceive this more in women's names.

However, the past ten years seem to find both girls' and boys' names victim to trends: as a daycamp instructor, I heard quite a few names of either gender frequently that all seemed to reflect British estate names or surnames of powerful east coast families: Madison, Clayton, Holden, Preston, Parker, Brittany, Jaden....

Okay, that's my rant. I feel better. But please don't name your kids Tiffany, Stephanie, or Madison. It just conjures up images of flighty cocktail waitresses who got my drink wrong, or smelly kids who constantly wanted band-aids or ice packs.