Archinect - Roger Williams University

Art saved my life [or] The comforting illusion of a rational thought

2004-12-21T03:19:57-05:00

Yours is a generation whos heros were dreamers.
Mine is a generation whos heros were suicides.

Must be morning. Im hungry.

~~~ ~~~

I began with the intention of investigating free-will. Not in a scientific way, but as it is a phenomenological property of space. I began with all this crap about nanotech architecture, an endlessly expanding labyrinth of structural enclosures, some blocking light, some blocking air, growing by photosynthesizing air-born carbon to meet and adapt to our every desire's command. We shall be free! I had hoped. I began to imagine, as others have before, of ways in which tensegrity structures might suspend an infinitely adaptable volume of space above our cities”¦. etc”¦

But that is not what free will means.

I sat down with a painting, a favorite of mine, Manet's The Execution of Maximilian, currently in the MFA in Boston, and I began to play. In this flat arrangement of paint, there is space. In that space, there is freedom.

How can this be? The...

When the homoludens go marching in

2004-12-11T17:59:37-05:00

to aphex twin's "shiny metal rods"

like an interstelar burst Im back to save the universe.

2004-12-11T16:01:52-05:00

Hey? What happened to my "come like the leaves?" entry?
anyway:

I have discovered recently that there is a difference between litterally 3d and actually 3d.

um. more later Im sure.

"Come dÃ¢â‚¬â„¢autunno si levan le foglie,"

2004-10-10T18:24:37-04:00

As, in the autumn, leaves detach themselves,
first one and then the other, till the bough
sees all its fallen garments on the ground,
similarly, the seed of Adam
descended from the shoreline one by one,
when signaled, as a falconÃ¢â‚¬”calledÃ¢â‚¬”will come”¦

And after this was said, the darkened plain
quaked so tremendouslyÃ¢â‚¬”the memory
of terror then, bathes me in sweat again.
A whirlwind burst out of the tear-drenched earth,
a wind that crackled with a bloodred light,
a light that overcame all my senses;

and like a man whom sleep has seized, I fell.

Dante Alighieri - Inferno,
Canto III, 112-117”¦130-136

"

Preface

I remember quite vividly sitting in a windowless room with a group of students, my eyes readjusting to the unsettling flicker of florescent light, the vision of leaf-mimic insects devouring each other projected onto the inside of my face in the most introverted way, recalling and speaking the words:

“I know where I am, b...

lived-through-sphere

2004-10-04T05:24:05-04:00

dialogues of a sphere:

a) center to surface
b) inside to outside
c) itself to itself.

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x

2004-09-27T02:06:16-04:00

What is Beethovens favorite fruit?

Ba-na-na-naa

jokes are invisible

Our lord and saviour Constant Nieuwenhuys,

2004-09-15T22:34:28-04:00

"
8:15pm, December 20, 1960, Amsterdam. A packed room waits for the 40-year-old artist Constant Nieuwenhuys. A slide projector and a large tape recorder sit behind the audience. Constant enters, stands by the machines, and delivers a half-hour statement on 'unitary urbanism'. The tone is militant.

Modern architects are negligent. They have systematically ignored the massive transformation of everyday life. Their endless garden-city schemes desperately provide token fragments of 'pseudo-nature' to pacify ruthlessly exploited citizens. The modern city, and civilization itself, is a thinly disguised mechanism for extracting productivity from all people. A huge machine that destroys the very life it is meant to foster. Such exploitive machinery will continue to grow until a single vast urban structure occupies the whole surface of the earth. Nature has long been replaced. Technology is the new nature.

The increasingly traumatized and desensitized citizens must take over the shaping o...

i die, you eat,

2004-09-10T19:41:21-04:00

I know where I am, but I dont seem to be where I find myself. yeah. Architecture has eaten me for supper like a woman. Frankenstien monsters with arms of a thousand corpse arms and eyes of a thousand corpse eyes bleeding from the fingers knash thier thousand corpse teeth and consume eachother like sumos and rats. O' this blessed hypnerotomachia polyphili of horrors, baby frankenjesus amen,

Today: work on my little nano-antfarm: site-analysis archi-porn: etc,

Tomorrow: my best friend will leave me forever and I will live out my life in tormented agony i guess.

dear mummy:

2004-09-07T18:30:03-04:00

'We each play the protagonist in our own self-written melodrama.'
-Errol Morris

"
I find I have this predisposition towards doing things that are rather dark. Lots of darkness building to little pirouettes of joy. I don't know why.

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”
-Mr. Spock

From an artistic standpoint, I find it a more compelling point of view to remove myself from politics. Like looking at subdivisions from the window of an airplane, you can stand above loathing for wealthy subjugators, above pity for the marginalized, and simply be appreciative to be watching the macro-organism grow from 30000 ft. There is something happening in there; something beautiful and intangible blossoming between the cracks. It doesn't make sense, and its out of control, but if we are really honest with ourselves, hasn't it always been?

I like to think I am a servant of life. I pour in my dreams, manifest what I am able, and in return I am given this unending cascade...

Old dogs on the porch:

2004-09-05T19:53:43-04:00

****

A landscape adaptation on Gooseberry Island, a spit of land sticking into the Atlantic near Buzzard's Bay, Massachusetts.

The Island is famous for 3 historical absurdities: First, that FDR was known to visit the island, being carried down the beach in a wheel-barrel as he suffered from polio in the 1920s. His visits ended when his and nearly every other home in the immediate vicinity were destroyed by the hurricane of 1938.

Second, the "Island" became a peninsula in 1941 when the US military laid out a causeway during WWII, irrevocably altering the ecology and erosion patterns of the area, to build a watchtower to spot and target a German invasion that never came. Originally, the tower and support gun posts and bunkers were disguised as an innocent lighthouse and cottages; a lighthouse for sinking ships.

Third, following the wreck of a commercial shipping frigate on the island in 1953, two neighbors, John Baker and John Straker went to claim and salvage the wreck, officially...

Notice to the public: Beware of Daleks

2004-08-31T14:21:53-04:00

Today Made some eggs. Good lessons on temporally linear objects and differential settlement of frying pans. I cant work like this. I am an artist!

Tomorrow Down to the big jocks vs weaklings party in NYC to distribute psychological warfare leaflets as follows:

[1]

[2]

[3]

The Day After Tomorrow either a) actual work begins, or b) nuclear annihilation and radioactive zombie wars, tba