You can see straight thru
an X-ray fish to its heart.
We are just as transparent
so be true, gentle, honest, just. . . .
By Jeffrey Yang
Posted in art,poetry,writing, Drawing, Poetry, Spontaneous Constructs, tagged attendance sheet, fish, ink, la razza, newschool of architecture and design, ray fish, sketch, sketches on November 30, 2009| 2 Comments »
Posted in Architecture, art,poetry,writing, Digital Collage, Experiments, Photography, Spontaneous Constructs, tagged color experiment, devolution, Digital Collage, dream homes, dystopia, san angeles, san diego, suburbua, the american dream on November 28, 2009| 2 Comments »
I have also been surfing the web and handpicking the best architecture and design sites the world over, thanks to the World Architecture Community– do check out the new blogroll .:Global Architecture:.
1. Architecture Lab, a fresh, young, visually captivating and insightful international online architecture and urban design magazine edited by Aline Chahine, an architect living and working in Beirut, Lebanon.
The Architecture bites offered here are just the right size, as a prelude to your favorite periodical or taken on their own.
Can Architecture be delicious? Well, check out Architecture Lab and let me know. Made me fall in love with A. all over again.
I love Aline’s chosen quote:
” A great architect is not made by way of a brain nearly so much as he is made by way of a cultivated, enriched heart.”- Frank Lloyd Wright
2. NotCot. They believe in ideas, aesthetics, and amusement. And they do it with stunning graphics and provocative by-lines. I’m a believer, too.
Posted in Architecture, art,poetry,writing, Design, Poetry, Quotes, tagged 3D Modeling, baroque, death in venice, frozen music, Global Architecture, Goethe, octogon, Pablo Neruda, thomas mann on November 25, 2009| 3 Comments »
So here it happens, the siren of Architecture called, and I heeded.
Nay, I relinquished.
Architecture, that capricious muse, finally seeps in my art chamber- yet how could I have kept it at bay?
Architecture is, indeed, frozen music.
If this building was music, what song/genre would it be?
Sir Barry says that some architects of the Baroque era literally applied to their designs harmonic ratios learned from musical intervals and harmonic relations between notes.
I always thought Baroque was the music closest to the act of creating, to perfect mathematical equations, the music of the cosmos. Fractals’ music. Baroque and its clavichords is what I am listening to right now, as I finish a 3D digital model. The model dances and takes form. Digital sculpture.
You must pardon if I wax poetic. I just finished ‘Death in Venice’ and my heart is full of poetry tonight.
Well, I will have to wear this at my next art/design outing!
In other news, some housekeeping:
[pay no attention to the man behind the curtain]
In order to be qualified to enter the Technorati universe I am obliged to post these codes.
Yes, Technorati, this is Really my blog!
Driving back from Las Vegas
We stopped at a roadside fast-food
We played Monopoly
waited until the sun came down,
until the traffic subsided.
You were merciless.
November 23, 2009
Posted in art,poetry,writing, Coffee, Drawing, Poetry, tagged cafe de la presse, cafe', Coffee, coffee & culture, culture, Futo Coffee, graphite, ink, masking letters, moments of urbanity, newschool of architecture and design, pilot pen, san francisco, urban moments on November 19, 2009| 2 Comments »
San Francisco – Cafe’ De La Presse
Legendary Literary Cafe’ a stone’s throw from the French Embassy. The staff’s uniforms were très French, the atmosphere European, and the cappuccino was ….flawless.
All photographs taken with Lumix (Panasonic) camera, Leica wide lens.
San Diego: Newschool of Architecture and Design – Cafe’ A la Carte
Bringing coffee, culture and ‘moments of urbanity ‘, as Francisco Sanin, a dear professor in Syracuse|Florence, used to say.
The passage/hallway is transformed in a piazzetta; Adam, the owner, strums his guitar, chats with customers.
Brings book such as ‘Reading Lolita in Tehran’, and Russian lit.
Naomi Shihab Nye
It was never too strong for us:
make it blacker, Papa,
thick in the bottom,
tell again how the years will gather
in small white cups,
how luck lives in a spot of grounds.
Leaning over the stove, he let it
boil to the top, and down again.
Two times. No sugar in his pot.
And the place where men and women
break off from one another
was not present in that room.
The hundred disappointments,
fire swallowing olive-wood beads
at the warehouse, and the dreams
tucked like pocket handkerchiefs
into each day, took their places
on the table, near the half-empty
dish of corn. And none was
more important than the others,
and all were guests. When
he carried the tray into the room,
high and balanced in his hands,
it was an offering to all of them,
stay, be seated, follow the talk
wherever it goes. The coffee was
the center of the flower.
Like clothes on a line saying
You will live long enough to wear me,
a motion of faith. There is this,
and there is more.
“Out beyond ideas of wrong doing and right doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase ‘each other’ doesn’t make any sense.
This is what may happen if you move an image while scanning, tweak the result in Photoshop, and pixelize : an Impressionist painting.
Try it. Let me know how it works for you.