this isn't about me, but this about where you are at....so i'll start with an example.
i'm sitting here drinking Carlo Rossi bullshit Paisano wine listening to the Die Toten Hosen 'Herz Brennt' (German rock musik), texting my youngest of 3 bros about existence. I told him we're the Jim Morison of our parent's Morison meets mother Teresa. I'm looking at my badly stained deck in NJ on a 1/2 acre wondering is this normal, I want to tell my bro about Albert Camus. He's marrying a girl from Haiti after 2 months of knowing her, I married a girl I met on myspace, and my daugher is the most beatiful existence on this planet, and she shakes it to Black Sabbath...
life had a purpose and architecture can create meaning?
man, i just don't get it?
Nirvana are their choices? or rather were those 5 references summarizing your situation? if we took the exterior relationships between those 5 (think Deleuze) we would have an aggregate of relationships presenting themselves in such a way, through time (movement) to the rest of us in such a manner, that we can conclude and categrorize your moment in time as something very Quondom....yet very Quondom, what is that?
i'm tired and too busy to be ontological today, and when one isn't ontological, it's like being a 12 pack into the night, just coasting with one eye open, not hoping, not thinking, not even wondering, until you hit that concrete wall - that Tadao Ando designed, as it crushes and you get jabbed in the eye by Libeskind's sharp crystals, it's a good thing AFH was in the neighborhood...
oh shit, i fell asleep and my inking ran astray, too think in my sophomore youth, i erased that mistake to uphold the ever important modernist grid...in the early nighties that inking mistake would of made it into a chamber of works, under some Schelling reference to discovering the unconsioussness.
ontology should be sparsed down to a study of nothingness and a study of everything else as deceptive self ornamentation trapping (folding?) nothingness into a self-self-against-self guise of everything. deception in the descartes tradition but inverted, indic. love and hatred as the charged self-intertwirling of essential nothingness. unfold and you shall revert to being the infinitismally thin consciousness of nothingness you really are. why must we be prey to the ups and downs, the moodiness, of a convoluted mirage of an interior vs exterior war?
your ontological situation
this isn't about me, but this about where you are at....so i'll start with an example.
i'm sitting here drinking Carlo Rossi bullshit Paisano wine listening to the Die Toten Hosen 'Herz Brennt' (German rock musik), texting my youngest of 3 bros about existence. I told him we're the Jim Morison of our parent's Morison meets mother Teresa. I'm looking at my badly stained deck in NJ on a 1/2 acre wondering is this normal, I want to tell my bro about Albert Camus. He's marrying a girl from Haiti after 2 months of knowing her, I married a girl I met on myspace, and my daugher is the most beatiful existence on this planet, and she shakes it to Black Sabbath...
Where are you at now!
I prefer multiple choice...
Beuys Haus
My Favorite
Square Poem No. 80
Teacher's Pet in Paris
leave your preconceptions at the door
i lost my purpose in life now since i realised the meaning of architecture.
working title: electro-magnetic surge of a single heart beat
Letzte Instanz and Silbermont together with "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" get me through days filled with frustration.
life had a purpose and architecture can create meaning?
man, i just don't get it?
Nirvana are their choices? or rather were those 5 references summarizing your situation? if we took the exterior relationships between those 5 (think Deleuze) we would have an aggregate of relationships presenting themselves in such a way, through time (movement) to the rest of us in such a manner, that we can conclude and categrorize your moment in time as something very Quondom....yet very Quondom, what is that?
i'm tired and too busy to be ontological today, and when one isn't ontological, it's like being a 12 pack into the night, just coasting with one eye open, not hoping, not thinking, not even wondering, until you hit that concrete wall - that Tadao Ando designed, as it crushes and you get jabbed in the eye by Libeskind's sharp crystals, it's a good thing AFH was in the neighborhood...
oh shit, i fell asleep and my inking ran astray, too think in my sophomore youth, i erased that mistake to uphold the ever important modernist grid...in the early nighties that inking mistake would of made it into a chamber of works, under some Schelling reference to discovering the unconsioussness.
ontology should be sparsed down to a study of nothingness and a study of everything else as deceptive self ornamentation trapping (folding?) nothingness into a self-self-against-self guise of everything. deception in the descartes tradition but inverted, indic. love and hatred as the charged self-intertwirling of essential nothingness. unfold and you shall revert to being the infinitismally thin consciousness of nothingness you really are. why must we be prey to the ups and downs, the moodiness, of a convoluted mirage of an interior vs exterior war?
self-set-against-self i meant to say.
unknown.
Block this user
Are you sure you want to block this user and hide all related comments throughout the site?
Archinect
This is your first comment on Archinect. Your comment will be visible once approved.