Traveler's Joy

My backyard is plagued with Clematis Vitalba, also known as Old Man's Beard or Traveler's Joy.  For a brief moment, the flowers open in a profusion of white, but mostly the vine is persistent and invasive, growing so heavily that it breaks branches of the trees it envelops.  It's clear why it's called Old Man's Beard: as the flowers turn to seeds, they become puffballs that grow increasingly scraggly as the fall wears on.  I haven't determined whether the name Traveler's Joy comes from the fact that the seeds disperse widely, or that the vines grow so quickly over everything, or that the plant seems to travel underground - when I pull it up by the roots, I trace along my fence line to the next plant, as though it's rhizomatic.  It grows natively in English hedgerows, though, so I suspect that some people have been happy to see it; particularly those who didn't need to take care that it didn't overwhelm their gardens, but could perhaps shelter under its thick cloak for a night.

On moving to Portland last winter and early spring, I had this amazing sense of momentum, excitement, openness.  I would meet people everywhere on my travels, and I wanted to carry that through into my daily life in my new city, and I did, for a while.  Months later, I've just had a refresher course in what that openness feels like.  This, I think, is something that should really be called Traveler's Joy.  What is it made of?  How do we feel it?

As the many friends I've made traveling will attest, there's spontaneity at the heart of it.  I set out in my travels with a clear path, many pilgrimage sites, a few milestones, and a return ticket all prepared.  Things were never set in stone, though - I gave myself permission to skip Notre Dame, I stayed extra days with a lover in Switzerland, I knew I could change my return ticket if I changed my mind.  Life would not derail if I followed the path I hadn't known I wanted to take until I came upon it, rather than the one for which I'd prepared.  

Permission to deviate led naturally to a curious happiness with unexpected travel "problems."  Given that I knew this was all an adventure, and one that would be fascinating no matter if I made it to the next stop or if I stopped and just lived wherever I missed the train, I could revel in the unknown of travel delays, road blocks, and technical problems.  These were not inefficiencies, these were the main event.  How would I have met my lover, if not for a broken cell phone that miraculously fixed itself the next day?  I wouldn't have absorbed that valley and those mountains without him there to keep me past my expected stay.  Long lines became great opportunities to look and listen carefully to what was happening around me, and to meet fellow travelers.  Wrong turns led to places that, like reading the book next to the one you were looking for on the shelf, provided depth and context and sometimes a treat better than the one I was searching out.  All of these moments built to great gratitude that the adventure continued.

Last week/weekend's reminder of this came from two directions.  Struggling with today's birthday, I reread "It's Not You: The 27 (Wrong) Reasons You're Single."  I don't recall how I found this book, other than probably the NYTimes, but I can say that despite the title, it's a pretty excellent book about life and love and the complications of our modern expectations.  I was in Chapter 24, wherein the author, Sara Eckel, talks about Loving-Kindness, when I realized that this is the natural mindset and daily meditation of the traveler.  When you give yourself permission to follow either the prescribed or unanticipated path; when you give yourself over to loving the moment for what it is, rather than where it might get you; when you build gratitude with every tick of the clock you're still on the ride; then you also remember to love all those around you, even and especially those you don't know.  It's easy, at that point, to look at a stranger and know that they are also living in the same world, with things that go wrong and things that go right, happinesses and sadnesses and eases and tensions.  When you get to that recognition, you can't help but love them, and I believe that love is felt, and I know it's more frequently returned when it is more freely given.

Friday I played golf for the first time in my life.  Learning new skills is like traveling - it's an adventure in which you must relinquish some control in order to move anywhere.  I left my keys at work, and had to go far out of the way to retrieve them - I was reminded to appreciate the ride, rather than rue the detour.  I conversed deeply and lightly, and sat through silences with a new friend.  And then, when the evening should have stopped, I offered a minor generosity and stepped into a swift river of connection, twisting though unforeseen banks.  I was reminded that in even more practical terms, eye contact, vulnerable sharing and intimacy, and appreciation develop directly into those moments of intense connection, those times when we feel we're seeing and being seen by others.

Why did I start this essay with Clematis, other than the name (which, I'll admit, was the main reason)?  I wonder to what extent we have to loose commitment in order to gain connection, and to what extent we limit our ability to develop a deeper reciprocity without it.  I know that loosing the weight of further acquaintance frees me to be more fully with someone in the moment of meeting them.  Discarding the duties of life gives me the time to appreciate the detours.  I know less about the other side of the equation.  My Clematis is committed to my garden, though, and I come back to it again and again.  I clear it out - one less thing to deal with - for a few weeks.  Then it returns.  With vigor that might appear to be rage, I cut it back, yank it off the fence, tear it out of the ground.  But the more I pull it, the more I appreciate how strong it is, how deep it's sent roots, how wide it's grown.  It's not a practice if it doesn't take some work.

As usual, I've gotten to the end of an essay and I'm not sure it's where I wanted to be.  Of course, in the multitude of possible worlds, this is the one I'm in, and this is what I've written, and it's late and I'm not in the mood to edit it, so I'm posting.  I'll give myself permission to come back and change it if need be.  

Summer

A month has passed since my last post, and a lot has happened, to be sure.  The most notable of which must be the fact that I am gainfully employed, full time, as a designer at an architecture firm in Eugene!!!

Yes, that gets three exclamation points.  It’s been keeping me busy, which has resulted in the radio silence on this blog, and complete lack of effort on the portfolio website, but I can’t say that I’m too sorry about that.  As you may know, finding another job in Eugene wasn’t my intention, but all of the pieces kind of fell into place.  The women’s utimate team that seemed just out of reach for the past four years is finally coalecsing, and I felt very sad at the prospect of leaving town without having a season with them.  We came in second at Solstice, the tournament here in town, and we absolutely had a blast.  I also got a great new housemate, and hey, well, I got this job, and I really like it.

I’m working at Nir Pearlson Architect, and in the short time I’ve been there, we’ve submitted two projects for permitting.  Next week I’ll turn in the third, and I’ll do it by myself because Nir, my boss, is in Israel for the next two and a half weeks.  I’ll be manning the office alone, working on a few other projects and trying to keep everything going while Nir’s gone.  I think I’ll take the opportunity of the slight lull to make sure that my IDP hours for this job get counted, and to actually work on that online portfolio.

Summer in Eugene is pretty nice – I’m eating cherries as I type, and heading to a barbeque in an hour.  I’m enjoying working with Nir, and I know he’d like me to stick around a while longer and work on a few more jobs.  But although this job, this frisbee team, this housemate, and these cherries are fortuitous and fantastic, I still wonder how long it can last.

Up at Potlatch last week, I was reminded again of life in the city, and the different opportunities to take advantage of there.  Yesterday I spent the afternoon and evening with friends and we talked about San Francisco and Portland, and about living in the city.  I’m trying my best to be here, but, if you’ve been reading this blog, you know I’ve been having a tough time with that for some time.  I just want to peek ahead, find out where the plot’s going, but unfortunately that’s not an option.  So, I guess I just keep doing what I’m doing until it stops working.  And, I guess that after a few more weeks of just enjoying employed life,  I’ll start thinking again about the long-term plan again.

In the mean time, Potlatch was tons of fun, seeing all the little babies together a few weeks ago was fantastic,  I’m looking forward to Seaside and some sore beach legs, I can’t believe I get to play in Labor Day with my ladies, and I’m still hoping to head to Colorado to visit the brother.  I’m also hoping to get a few more hours of sewing in in the next few weeks because I keep buying patterns and fabric, so I keep needing to make beautiful things.  I’m catching up on Mad Men and thoroughly enjoying Friday Night Lights, and I’m trying to catch up with people I haven’t seen in a while, too, whether it be through email, phone calls, or unexpected visits.  So, in sum, life is full, and I’m going to do my best to get the most out of it.  I hope you’re doing the same – summer is so short, so love every minute of it!

Rain, progress

I’m at home right now because it’s raining, and it has been for several days.  Usually I’d be at the frisbee fields, but having gone over there and seen that they were a little more lake-like than is optimal, I found out that our team postponed our game to mid-June.  I was looking forward to the social time, and to running around for a bit of exercise.

I’ve been quite focused the last few days, finally accomplishing some longstanding goals.  I completed my portfolio revisions to my satisfaction.  While I may still work on some of the diagrams I had in mind and didn’t have time to realize completely, I’m very happy to have updated the work to show a few more key skills and ideas.  In addition, I quickly put together a web portfolio.  I’ve wanted to do that for a while, but using GoLive was never that pleasant, and I always seemed to need workarounds to accomplish the actions I was trying to achieve.  While my new effort is elementary, and obviously blog based (I may yet shell out for the hosting so that it can just be rachelauerbach.com and not rachelauerbach.wordpress.com), it gets the job done and has been fun to produce.  It was always tedious to get anything made in GoLive, let alone something that looked even remotely decent, so it’s nice that making this new portfolio was fun and easy, and that I know enough from the old days of html to make it a little better than basic.

[note.  I've just been trying to add a simple slideshow to my portfolio blog and have been foiled.  WordPress doesn't allow javascript, so even though I could script exactly what I want, I am stuck with only being able to use the somewhat clunky slideshows they allow with shortcode.  Maybe it is worth it to pay for the hosting... or maybe I'll just have long galleries.]

The other big milestone for the week was sending out several applications today, all to firms that are quite interesting to me.  It’s been very isolating to not have a job, and especially now that all of my friends who are in school are working overtime to get ready for finals, I sometimes feel like even my social life doesn’t make up for sitting alone all day, every day, working in front of the computer.  Now that I’ve got things to send, though, I can go back to a more varied routine, with time for sewing and reading.  I can also set up some more informational interviews, and hopefully something will progress to the point where I get hired and am once again part of a team – where at least I’ll be sitting with other people all day, every day, even if I’m also working on the computer all day, every day!

On a final note, though I delayed it because I didn’t go back to school this year, I’m doing my annual rereading of Atmospheres and Thinking Architecture now.  So many projects floating in my mind!

Waking up from hibernation

Another two part post – some musings on generation divides to follow the life update.

It’s funny that I just bought furniture for my apartment, since I’m planning to move.  If that move is to somewhere on I-5, I’m good, if not, I’m probably contributing to the awful amount of particleboard in our nation’s landfills.

I cleaned a lot this past weekend, and with the organizing and the beautiful weather, I feel a bit like I’m waking from hibernation.

I realized that I’d sort of been snowed under, with things all over my floor literally preventing me from moving freely.  I subscribe to the idea that a real housecleaning can do wonders for the psyche, and that making doors fully operable and floors clear to walk on can help to make paths in our lives clearer, too.  I realized, too, that the snowed-underness is somewhat chronic for me, but that it might be worse because there were a few things I’d never really taken care of from graduation, plus getting back from LA added an unfinished unpacking to the pile, plus entering into the Cavin Family Traveling Fellowship delayed the cleaning another week.

So, I finally took my car to get washed, which was really so easy that I will totally do it again, and I finally replaced my little old art tacklebox with a set of clear plastic drawers that also hold my office supplies and my sewing supplies.  It’s on wheels, and it almost makes me glad that my desk doesn’t have drawers because it’s great to be able to roll it around as an extra work surface during intense sewing/architecture moments.  I got a new trashcan for our bathroom, our first of which mysteriously disappeared a few months ago.

I also got a bookcase.  I have two wonderful little white bookcases that are painted wood deals from a vintage store in Springfield.  I’ve been watching craigslist on and off, and considering that I went to every vintage/antique/goodwill store I know of in Eugene and Springfield this summer to get those beauties, I knew that chances were slim of me finding a third.  Oh, it was sad to put those plastic dowels through that laminated skin, to nail that cardboard onto the back of that board, but it is amazing to have my books off the floor.

So, I’m set up to conquer the world, by which I mean update my cut sheet and send out applications, redo my last IDP installment, send in my taxes and census form, and finally file away the little bits and pieces that have been floating around wondering where they belong for oh so long now.  If only it wasn’t so beautiful outside.  And, if only I didn’t realize that I’ve been spending way too much time by myself… although with a lot of folks on spring break and a promise of rain next week, I might be successful yet.  Wish me luck in taking on all of those looming tasks – I think it’s going to feel pretty great to knock them out, just like it felt to finally finish furnishing my rooms with the things they were lacking.

Oh, and I didn’t get all new things.  Doing that laundry in the basement, I checked to see if the trashcan had somehow walked downstairs and discovered a somewhat homely but perfectly serviceable coffee table behind what appeared to be an entertainment center.  Yes, it’s got a laminate top, but parts of it were wood, and it was free, and it will go back in the basement when I move.  After six months without a coffee table, it’s awesome to have one.

OK, on to my ponder.  Today I was looking at the Harvard Business Review for graphic design inspiration.  I know, it sounds as bad as it was, but really, I needed to see how they set up their cases, since the cases we’re writing for work are based loosely on their model.  They may not have the best designer on staff, but man can they write a case!  I got distracted by the task at hand by actually reading the article, which was about differences in Gen X and Gen Y approaches to the workplace.  What’s somewhat funny to me is that I think I’ve read the article before, and it’s totally cheesy, and it’s definitely based on caricatures of the stereotypes of the two generations, but nonetheless I was hooked.

I frequently find business writing compelling for several reasons.  I want to be a good employee, and if it’s in my cards in the future a good employer or manager.  I also think that there’s something fascinating about the way that business writing hovers between applied anthropology, sociology, psychology, and economics.  I guess the third reason I find business writing compelling is that the people doing the writing know that they’ve got to be compelling, so they generally relate interesting stories, make clear assertions about those stories, develop catchy ways to remember their information, and keep it brief – in other words, they write to be compelling, and the good ones succeed.  Oh, and generally, they don’t go off on tangents like this.

That first reason, though, was what I first thought of when I read the case today.  I saw some similarities between the situation described in the case and my own situation at work, and thought that I might adjust the way I was considering certain parts of the situation.  I also thought that I might be more sensitive to some of the things the case brought to light in my job search.

Then, I thought about that job search, and how this whole internal discussion I’ve had about taking advantage of the downturn to do something more innovative and interesting totally reflected the attributes of the Gen Y thinking presented in the case.  I realized that part of my hesitancy in pursuing that kind of new “job” or whatever it would be that would make living possible as I was doing awesome architecture stuff that was good for people and the environment and let me draw and build and talk to people – that hesitancy comes from my uncertainty that Gen Y thinking is all that good at making stuff in the real world.  It seems clear that it’s got some benefits – open source techniques work for my friend who makes shoes and for some of the bike companies I admire greatly.  Certainly Gen Y thinking is effective in the realm of ideas and technology.  Yet I wonder if Gen Y thinking, as outlined in the article, is compatible with building things, which takes a long time, requires a lot of players and investors, and is meant to last a long time, too.

Here’s the thing.  Part of me is on board with the revolution.  I’m ready to use better platforms to collaborate more effectively.  I’d like to keep drawing by hand, to keep talking in person, but I also think we’re on the verge of having way better modeling software – software that incorporates more of the benefits of hand drawing while it dramatically increases the ability of the modeler to make excellent, easy-to-construct building – and I think that videoconferencing will become more accessible, but more to the point, hard and software will improve our face-to-face meetings, helping us record our thoughts better and launch from those thoughts more effectively.  I also think that design must be at least partially open to the crowd’s influence if it’s going to be relevant, and I think things from coordinating construction to monitoring energy use will all transform in positive ways if we think about them differently.

But part of me thinks that there’s something to be said for putting in your time and going through the established routes.  There is something essential to me about knowing the fundamentals.  And even as I write this, I realize that in some ways, it’s knowing the fundamentals and being tied to those “proper routes” that loose us the ability to look at problems freshly, to hear the voice of the novice that revolutionizes the game.  Fundamentally, I think the same thing is happening in architecture as in environmental change – the status quo is difficult to disrupt.  Building codes and contractual setups change slowly, protecting us from rash decisions, but they can also stymie valid change.  With environmental change, the political and physical obstacles are deeper and wider, but again, they slow change that we can envision, even if we have difficulty implementing it.

Anyways, in the end, I wonder if us Gen Yers, with our impatience; disrespect for pecking orders, lines of authority, and proper protocol; need for feedback; with our life experienced through machines and need for entertainment and instant gratification, I wonder if we can really make great things.  Will our things forever be left unfinished?  Will they be two-dimensional?  Will they speak only to the now?  Or, will they be made faster and better by people who have more time to spend with their families and friends, by people who find that their work is fun and rewarding and challenging, and who tell each other when they’ve gotten it right?

I also wonder if there even is a real, measurable difference, or if it’s just the idealism of the young rubbing up against the conservativeness of the old, dressed up in new phrases, with the specter of technology floating around to scare us all a little.

Well, that’s not where I thought this would end, and not even close to what I thought I would say, but it’s time for me to get off the couch before the day ends.  I’m glad that spring is coming here, complete with adorable little birds at my window, and I hope that it brings even a tiny bit of resolution on the pressing matters in my mind.

Putting things out there

Warning: next three paragraphs deal with the intractable issues of work and social life.  For something actually interesting and new, skip to the photo.

I don’t know how long it’s going to last, but for quite some time to come, I think my main job is actually putting myself out there.  It’s actually been a lot of fun to put together the portfolio and teaser and resume…and I’m sure the cover letters will be fun in hindsight, too.  Now we come to the part where I actually send them all out, though, and that’s a whole other story.  I’m less than excited to send them into the abyss, to ask for jobs that don’t exist and to profess how wonderful I am to people who can’t really care.

I can’t help but feel a reflection of this work life issue in my personal life, too – I may know all sorts of people here, but I’ve yet to rebuild a group of friends of the sort I had in Oberlin, Vermont, or, in fact, that I pretty much developed here, pre-graduation.  Not to mention that there’s a good chance that I’ll move to a whole new place and actually have to make an even bigger effort towards friendship than I do here now.

I’ll admit, part of it is a problem of commitment.  I’m not sure where I want to move, not sure what I want to do, not sure who I want to spend my time with, so in some ways I’m not making a strong case to anyone, let alone myself.  Howard’s recommendation of actually writing out a five year plan or two seems like a great one.  I vaguely know where I’m going and what I’m doing, but defining things a bit more, while having an alternative plan, seems like a good way to stop faffing and actually move confidently towards doing the things that I want to do.  I feel like I’m back in high school with all this self definition and worrying about who I’ll be friends with.  Thought I was over all of that.

On another note, I saw this today:

Along with five other lamps, it’s part of an impressive graduation project, Light Movement, by Noam Bar Yohai.  Each of the lamps employs wood, elastic bands and heat-shrinking tubing, with metal components to weight them.  They are each adjustable because of the friction of the tubing, weight of the metal, tension of the elastic bands, or flexibility of the wood.  I think Yohai has done an excellent job of exploring this object as a series of mechanisms.  For me, they come to a pleasing level of refinement – they seem like abstracted models of joints: skeleton, sinew, muscle, and nerve poised before some action.  Tell me what you think, and perhaps, if you’re ambitious, compare and contrast with Moooi’s Brave New World lamp.

Going Grey

Not me.  I just returned from Greenbuild, which was in Phoenix, and hopped off the plane at Portland.  I’m visiting Sasha, who’s got a new blog, but who’s been sick since she arrived here.  We had a lovely time last night eating lentil soup with Kyle, Adrienne and Sean, and a delicious breakfast this morning with Sean and Adrienne.  But, after walking around a bit, I have determined that Oregon has gone grey.

I’m ok with that, but I kind of wish it hadn’t happened while I was gone.  It seems too abrupt.

We stopped in to Bolt and Close Knit briefly, and I think we’ll see A Serious Man this afternoon.  It’s the kind of day that you want to watch movies and be surrounded by soft warm things.  I’ve always enjoyed getting away from the cold in December when I visit home – for me, being away from Florida is the only way I’ve learned to appreaciate it.  But, missing those few critical days, I am sad to come back and find myself in winter.

Although some things at the conference were, frankly, a waste of time, I think that overall it was quite worthwhile.  Despite the fact that I didn’t show my portfolio to anyone, I did get the sense that if I pursue a job with some intensity, there are jobs to be had, and also showed me again that the route I take might not be so straightforward.  I am very glad to have finished my portfolio and updated my resume in time for the conference, since it frees me up for time for other projects.  I’ll be working on a new skirt this week, and I’m also going to start learning a 3D modeling software.

We’re about to head out, but photos of Phoenix will be up soon!

27

I am now 27.

I just fell in love with the BurdaStyle website, and especially the Ellen pants, which, should I ever get to make them, will probably be disappointing since I’m not a stick thin/5’10.” Working my way up to that, and looking forward to sewing again.

First phase of the project is almost done, so work is coming along. Portfolio is coming along more slowly, but progressing. I have a new layout that’s a bit more clear, but I’m still working on how to get some of the spontaneity of the old one in there. The projects are developing into better stories the more I work on them.

Sasha’s visit was wonderful, and I’m looking forward to her moving up to Portland.

Many more plans and thoughts. Finished Howard’s End, reread The Diamond Age (again), and started Rebecca.

Also, I put up the last year’s photographic highlights on my Flickr account.

Returning, Moving On

I’m going to write something because I’d really like to return to blogging, but I’m out of practice. At a point, life just got too complicated to tell about. It’s not that the plot was so convoluted, more that the characters all got a little out of hand. But, we’re beyond that now, and in fact, the plot has also straightened itself out quite a bit.

I am a Master now. Finishing grad school has been a bit anticlimactic. It was wonderful to have the celebration in June, and I do feel done, for real. However, I now feel the weight of the Internship Development Program (IDP) and licensure bearing down on me. I have a job, which I am very happy about both because the economy is bad enough that it’s rare for a recent grad to be offered a job, and because said job is actually interesting and closely related to what I want to do in the long run. However, I’m acutely aware that it’s not a job that can get me closer to actually being an architect, and it’s not a job of the type for which I have been preparing myself for the last three and a half years. So, despite enjoying it, I very much am continuing to wonder, and occasionally actually work towards figuring out, what I will do next.

So, it’s portfolio making time.  It’s time to organize a game plan for applications, to get recommendations in line, and to feel a little untethered from the future, which, as you know, I like to have some grasp on.  All of that is fine: the portfolio is taking shape and I like where it’s going.  The rest I can deal with, and may even enjoy.  But, there’s one thing I’m really struggling with – where to be.  Theoretically, I’m likely to move when I get a job in an architecture firm.  My current plan is to first apply to the set of firms at which I would most like to work, which are primarily in cities on the west coast and in the UK.  Here’s the issue, though.  Rent runs out on the 15th of next month, and I’m not sure what to do at that point.  I will almost certainly not have another job – fine, because my current job will still exist through January.  But, do I move somewhere else in Eugene?  I can, but I’m starting to feel like I want to move on sooner, rather than later, and not move all of my stuff just to move it again.  I can’t really afford to move to one of the big west coast cities on my current salary, though, and that might also end up meaning that I move just to move again.  I could see going home, but what about all of my stuff?  Do I lighten my load of worldly possessions – can I afford to sell everything just to buy more things wherever I do settle next?  And the same goes for moving back to Vermont, which I would love to do, but where I am unlikely to find a job, probably would have to pay some rent (unlike Florida), and where I would be split between friends in Burlington, Brattleboro, and Great Barrington, Mass.  The reality there, too, is that I don’t know if any of those friends have the same spaces in their lives for me as I would like to imagine they do.  Could any of them live with me on their couch/in their kitchen for any significant amount of time?

The likely answer – stay in Eugene.  I’ll move soon enough to a new place, and in the mean time, didn’t I promise myself that I’d spend my time Being Here?

It’s one of those decisions that I keep coming back to, though.  One of those unresolved questions that niggles me throughout the day, in part because it is unresolvable. Since it will be resolved in the next month, because someone else is taking over my house, I guess I just have to live through the uncertainty.  Would that the plot were still twisting, not just aiming straight into the murk.

***

On an entirely different note, played at Spawnfest this weekend, which was very good – both fun frisbee and fun time partying/hanging out with the teammates/laughing at Vern Fonk and Bawls and playing 20 questions.  Excited to get into better shape, although somehow I keep missing my running dates and workout times.  We went 6-1, but unfortunately the point differentials on Saturday put us into the B-bracket, so we only took 9th (out of 34? teams).  Read a lot of the Huddle last night in an exited frenzy to get back to being really useful on the field.

letting it go too long

what do you get? way too much to actually write about.

Seeing Barak in Eugene, and being so inspired that you campaign for him for hours in the rain, snow, hail, and occasional sun. I hope I’ll write about him more once I get wireless in my…

New apartment that I moved into on Thursday and have gotten 90% organized in. Thanks to the fearless four – Renee, Jake, Truc, and Stacey – who made the move from old to new take just about four hours! Photos coming soon…

Which I didn’t take on either of my two trips to Portland this break. Trip number one, I visited Herman and Ruth, enjoyed the excellent okra stew and Herman’s amazing flatbread as well as his amazing dutch oven bread and the divine sheep/cow cheese that they shared with me. We went to Ikea and did several hours of shopping…

Which also happened somehow on trip number two, after I picked up Emily from the train station and we had an excellent lunch at Besaws, but before we drove back to Eugene along the coast, which made me wish I had gone to the coast a long time ago, and made me promise myself I’d go again soon…

but which has the fault of not always having a strong cell signal, so that a call with Stefan was cut short. We’ve made a date to re-call, though, so I’ll surely get to hear his news, as I did…

when Joe Little called out of the blue. He’s moving to D.C., so I’ll have one less reason to visit Chicago, but one more reason to visit D.C. Which I don’t have a great desire to do right now considering…

The current state of our government, and if you didn’t, like me, obsessively listen to NPR this last week, you should at least hear ;this week’s This American Life.

Anyway, this term I’m taking it easy. Just doing a practicum with Gary Moye Architect;, taking Roman Architecture and Architectural Precidents 2.0, teaching Architectural Contexts, organizing and attending the HOPES conference, and taking a short class on Graphic Statics. It will give me enough time to play some frisbee, I hope, and celebrate Ruth’s retirement, I hope, and maybe even visit Oberlin for a reunion…

And maybe, if I’m lucky, I can read some novels this semester. I hope.

APT! OMG!

I’ve been saving that title for weeks now. My future landlord called today and told me that I am approved for the apartment I’ve been thinking about for two months. Those dreams will now be a little more real. I’m going to take a look on Saturday just to confirm that I really do want to move in there. Always good to double check. But, I am sooo excited.

You know what else is good? I’ll tell you.

a) I’ve got a little portfolio to show off tomorrow, plus a very nice resume. I will get three copies of the portfolio printed and bound in the morning (hopefully, although I expect the line will be long), and ten copies of my resume, and I will go talk to the visiting firms and be professional. See what kind of recruiting I can make happen.

b) Which, on that front, I’m having a conversation with a local firm on Monday to talk about the potential for me to work with them next term in a practicum, which may turn into a summer internship anyway. Perhaps the poor studio offerings for next term will turn out to be a boon.

c) I’m announcing the Top Ten Green Projects competition tomorrow, at which point it will hopefully be a little bit more out of my hands and a little less work for a little while.

In the next few days, perhaps I’ll really have some time for studio! Actually, I’m about to head home and do a little bit of work right now.

Monday, it's my fun day

My last day of work at BuildingGreen arrived, and with it, a real understanding of this upcoming trip. It was a full day of work, so much so that at 4:30, when we were supposed to head up the hill to Nadav’s house for my send-off party, Ethan and I were still working frantically to create a CD copy of all of my files. I didn’t finish my timesheet or my list of accomplishments, and I had yet to apprise Jess of all of the loose ends that I was leaving behind in the High Performance Buildings database. Anyway, up the hill we went, and the party was lovely. A little wine, a little cheese, and Jerelyn’s homemade sushi made tasty snacks. Most of the staff of BuildingGreen was able to make it. The terrific news of the party is that they gave me (drum roll please) five years of the BuildingGreen Suite, which will carry me back out of grad school! They also presented me with a copy of Greenspec, and a lovely soft organic cotton shirt with the New Orleans Principles from the U.S. Green Building Council. Jim gave me a black shirt for grad school, so that I wouldn’t look so out of place in all of my pastels. We generally had a lovely time talking, and I stayed up there until about seven – it was hard to tear away from those people who have become friends as well as workmates.

At seven, though, I went back down the hill and into town, where I met with Jacob (my traveling companion) and Mark N. We completed the game of Cranium Mark and his friends were playing, then headed up to Mark’s cabin in Marlboro. Unfortunately, by the time we got there, it was dark (and really quite cold), but even in the dark we could tell how amazing the place is. Mark’s sleeping cabin is on the side of a hill, and a little way down from his cabin are the main cabin, with the kitchen, and his “roommate’s” cabin. Just below those, there’s a canoe and a little dock on South Pond. After we ate dinner by kerosene lamp and talked until about midnight, all three of us went down to the pond and shoved off into the still water. We floated for a while, then paddled about under the stars. Mark was right about the place – I suggested that the proper word for the experience was spiritual.

I was dead tired by the end of the canoe ride, and just couldn’t imagine hiking back to the car, riding down the treacherous mountain road, and making the trip back to my own bed. Jake could, so he took the car in, leaving Mark and I to snuggle up for warmth in his brass bed. Snuggling was just what I needed; it got me properly warm, and put me at peace. Although I never sleep that well when I’m cuddling, I think I crave that body-to-body contact. It must release all kinds of endorphins.

The other benefit of staying out there was waking up in the morning to really be able to see the majestic pines, the slope of the hill, the silver water on the pond, and the rustic cabins. We ate a quick breakfast, then pushed off again, this time exploring a little marsh area at the edge of the pond. As we swung out canoe into the reeds, a huge great blue heron took off about 40 feet in front of us, flying straight across our line of sight. We both gasped.

We wrapped up our visit to the cabin, and I felt like I had gained something tangible. Down the bumpy road and back to town we went, and I set about packing up all of my stuff. It was truly a transition from the inspiring to the prosaic, but I carried some of that feeling about with me all day.

Packing was packing, by which I mean that I need not describe it, suffice it to say, I didn’t finish on Tuesday because it was slow going. But, I did quickly check in at work, so I got to finish my timesheet (very important!) and pass on my projects to Jess. By 5:45 when it was time to leave the house for Frisbee, I felt ready despite not being totally packed. Frisbee was mediocre, unfortunately, and I think it was mostly because I was so tired. At the end, everyone wanted to play more, which we did, but finally I demanded that if we were going to dinner we better go. Colin and I had planned to go to Top of the Hill Grill, which was closed at that point, so we ended up at the Marina. Becca, Seth, Stephan, Colin, and I went, and it was a good time, but I was mostly focused on eating, so I felt a bit like I was missing out on the goings on about the table. Once fed, though, I was much happier, and the rest of the evening was better by a considerable margin.

Seth, Stephan and I made a cameo appearance at bowling (where I couldn’t hit the spares to save my life) and then we all headed into town to Flat Street, where the whole gang was assembled. It felt like a private party, since we were pretty much the only crowd in there, and it was a great setting to say goodbye to everyone. People trickled out, we kept drinking, and at the end of the evening we were down to a band of five, goofing around with my camera phone and playing dirty games outside the bar. Stephan and Colin dropped me off at home. The goodbye wasn’t tearful, but when I got upstairs, my housemate had left a note on my computer to say goodbye that instantly had me sobbing. All of the avoided tears came out at once. I dragged myself to bed on my stripped down futon with one wool blanket and shivered through the night.

Exit Interview

It's 10:42, and I'm planning to go out to a movie. Do I feel like that's a silly idea? Yes, but I'm full of silly ideas right now, and not sleeping enough is one of my favorite new silly ideas. But to get to the real crux of the matter, I had an exit interview today for work. In my world, it's awesome to get an exit interview in the first place, and what's even more awesome was how well it went. I talked about what I liked about work, and what I didn't like, and realized that there was much more that I liked than that I disliked.

It started out with my bosses asking me how I felt that I was different than at the beginning of the year. Basically, my answer came down to the fact that I've attained this whole new plateau of independence - I was already independent when I started, and, in fact, I've always been an explorer and self-starter, but now I don't need as much reassurance along the way that the path that I've so boldly started down is acceptable and that I'm doing things some perfect way. I attribute this in large part to the friends that I have right now, whose friendship has taught me that I am most valuable as myself, and not as some unattainable "awesome friend." Although who wouldn't want to have an "awesome friend?"

Anyway, it's nice to realize that you are your own person, and also that all of the work you've done has been appreciated. I'm hoping to write up a list of accomplishments, and if I do I'll post them here...

Part 2:

I just stepped out to watch The Da Vinci code, which, having not read the book, I enjoyed in that way that you can enjoy mediocre movies. Way too many flashbacks, and the guys (Seth, Colin, and Stephan) were saying it was cast poorly, plus fairly predictable, but fun nonetheless. I suppose it's analogous to the book, i.e. great story plotwise, but not that great delivery-wise. Even the plot is see-through if you put any thought into it at all, though.

It's fun to go to late night movies, but it also makes for late nights. So, perhaps I had more to say about exit interviews and training your replacement (which I did Wednesday), or about winning games at your local small-town frisbee league (which I'm so proud of Brattleboro for having this year). But, I can actually hear my bed calling to me, "Rachel, come sleep on me," and if you're to the point of hallucination, you should generally go to sleep. So off I go, like a good little girl, resting up for this weekend's fun.