on studenthood

I turned in the last of my coursework yesterday, and promptly began reading (for pleasure, something that rarely happens during the course of a school term).
When I was in the bookstore at some point, browsing through the gazillions of pens and papers and thicknesses of mat board, I also skimmed through the collection of sale books they had out on the table and happened upon a collection of short stories by Carol Shields (late Canadian authoress; The Stone Diaries won the Pulitzer in 1995).
Anyway, the short stories are a perfect strategy for schooltime reading, it's just too bad I didn't figure that out sooner. A satisfying break, short and sweet, enough to tide me over till the next juicy novel.
Reading one of the stories caught me reminiscing about student life already.
These are excerpts from Chemistry, about a group of students and the possibility of their reunion:

"The poverty we insinuate is part real and part desire. We see ourselves as accidental survivors crowded to the shores of a cynical economy. By evasion, by mockery, by mutual nibbling away at substance, we manage to achieve a dry state of asceticism that feeds on itself. We live on air and water or nothing at all; you would think from the misty way we talk we had never heard of parents or cars or real estate or marital entanglements. The jobs we allude to are seasonal and casual, faintly amusing, mildly degrading. So are our living arrangements and our live-in companions. For the sake of each other, out of our own brimming imaginations, we impoverish ourselves, but this is not a burdensome poverty; we exalt in it, and with our empty pockets and eager charity, we're prepared to settle down after our recorder lessons at a table at Le Piston and nurse a single beer until midnight . . .

"The moment comes when we should exchange addresses and phone numbers or make plans . . . to meet on a monthly basis, perhaps, maybe in the undeclared territory of our own homes, perhaps for the rest of our lives.
But it doesn't happen. The light does us in. The too-soft spring light . . . It forbids absolutely a final embrace, and something nearer shame than embarrassment makes us anxious to end the evening quickly and go off in our separate directions.
Not forever, of course. We never would have believed that. Our lives at the time were a tissue of suspense with surprise around every corner. We would surely meet again . . .
It may happen yet. The past has a way of putting its tentacles around the present.

"We would burrow our way back quickly into those winter nights, saying it's been too long, it's been too bad, saying how the postures of love don't really change. We could take possession of each other once again, conjure our old undisturbed, unquestioning chemistry. The wonder that it hasn't already happened. You would think we made a pact never to meet again. You would think we put and end to it, just like that --saying goodbye to each other, and meaning it."

{From Chemistry, Collected Stories, by Carol Shields}

you're invited . . .

If you read this, you'll probably hear about this again. Or get an actual invitation.After church at our house in Salem, June 17th --the day after graduation. My mom will not let you go away hungry, trust me.
---

Two interviews in the past two business days. One was disheartening (they were somehow under the misapprehension that I only wanted a summer job) and the other one (today's) went very well. So I should be able to work in Portland . . .
I also got a call from a firm in Seattle last week --a cool firm, that I thought was a long shot. Threw me for a bit of a loop, actually, since I wasn't expecting to hear from them at all.

Why am I always surprised by His providence?

{insert little victory dance here}

Graduation is one month from today!

No, still no job. But Amanda and I went househunting on Saturday, which really just turned into neighborhood hunting and wishful thinking.
We wandered around southeast Portland looking at places we wished were for rent -in our modest price range, of course. But that got me energized to be living in Portland. I wikipedia-ed it for you (is that a verb yet? Like facebooked and texted? It's a little more awkward for spelling, I guess). Note the description of southeast as home to "hippies and hipsters." I guess I have to wean myself out of the Eugene culture bit by bit.
Quirky neighborhoods and public transportation and . . . Portland is also home for some good music --the Shins, the Decemberists, Elliot Smith, even a guy from Death Cab and one from Modest Mouse.
And the inventor of wiki.

a ruf weekend

Actually, it was really good. I spent the weekend at an RUF retreat at Mt. Hood with other students from UO and UW.
It was just what I needed, especially after an intense week preparing for yet another midterm presentation in Portland. Still no job, but I've added some business cards to my collection. The conference came at a really good time, since there's always a bit of a productivity slump after the midterm before we being really piecing everything together for the final. Only one more studio crunchtime left. (Where did the time go?)
And then I could show up tired and in need of refreshment at the retreat.

Isaiah 55 | bits and pieces
"Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters;
and you who have no money, come, buy, and eat!
Come buy wine and milk
without money and without cost . . .
listen, listen to me, and eat what is good
and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
. . .
"as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
. . .
"so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
it will not return to me empty
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

"you will go out in joy,
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands"

--

If I am alive this time next year
Will I have arrived in time to share?
Mine is about as good this far
I'm still applied to what you are
And I'm joinging all my thoughts to you
And I'm preparing every part for you

I heard from the trees a great parade
And I heard from the trees a band was made
Will I be invited to the sound?
Will I be a part of what you've made?
And I'm throwing all my thoughts away
And I'm destroying every bet I've made
And I'm joining all my thoughts to you
And I'm preparing every part for you

sufjan stevens | all the trees of the field

--

Still digesting a much-needed feast. "And His banner over me is love."

tenyear american tenure

I have lived in the US for ten years and ten days.
Weird. About half of that time I've been in university, which is an even stranger thought. Last week I had to go sign up for all my commencement stuff at the bookstore; I am now the proud owner of a lavender tassel and two hand-me-down grad gowns (one in the height bracket above me and one in the bracket below. Is it worth it to try to trade off for one in my size?) and the cap.
Two more months!

--

I had a hectic week last week --busybusybusy Monday through Wednesday (including a job interview) and then a field trip! Fifteen of the girls in my graduating interiors studio trouped up to Seattle and then Vancouver for the weekend.
I love the Seattle Public Library --it has the kind of interiors I like. Go Rem Koolhaus! I (of course) forgot my camera, but some of the other girls have photos that I might be able to post here. We saw lots of other cool things (St. Ignatius Chapel and Pike Street Market). I forgot just how nice it is to be in a city-with-a-captial-C that has lots of good design around. It really does help! Vancouver was even better. As the token Canadian I got to explain the "funny money," more specifically, loonies and toonies. We walked through the city a lot, had dim sum in Chinatown, saw some of the sights and went shopping. I went to beautiful furniture showrooms and fell in love with some designer furniture all over again. Ack. It's a curse being a design student -admiring all these beautiful things that you will never be able to afford. But it was nice to see them anyways. Some do fall short when you see them in the flesh. But some are even more gorgeous! And the worst part: if you just want to buy a book with their pretty pictures in them, those don't come cheaply either.


Just one photo --at the Steven Holl chapel in Seattle.

signed, sealed, delivered . . . i'm yours

I put my babies in the mail today.
Till that moment, they're pristine. They haven't been passed over, rejected yet. Now they're gone off into the world! Little fledgling resumes. *sigh.

Exciting to see what they will become though!

here's looking "hatchoo!" kid

So this one is from my mom . . . She laughed at me after it happened and insisted I share it with you. (Justine, she may even have said "bloggable!")

Yesterday we enjoyed some really good sermons. The evening service was about Ruth --well, really, not about Ruth so much. You know how it is, when you hear a good sermon in a reformed church, and even though when you look at the bulletin it can look like you're going to be hearing a character study or a moral lesson and, really, it's all about the One who makes each character. And how He brings them into the story of redemption. Anyways, the minister was making all these really good points. And just when he came to the climax of his sermon, working up to his big application question, I felt the sudden horrible inevitableness that is a coming sneeze.
I tried to supress it.
It was playing with me. You know when sneezes pretend they're going to throw a big fuss, and then disappear, only to catch you completely unaware a few seconds later when you thought all the moment of danger had passed? That's what this one did.
So right after the minister paused to give us a moment to absorb what he'd been telling us, my sneeze took that moment to completely take over and just "HaaaaaTCHOOOOOO!" I don't sneeze delicately on the best of occasions (--in fact, if I'm standing or walking when I'm sneezing, you may witness a hop, kick or a jump).
I kept my head down and rummaged through my purse for kleenex while trying not to smile too broadly at the humor of the situation.

--

The Term to End All Terms is here!
Spring Break was much too short, but I crammed in some cover-letter writing and portfolio-perfecting, a trip to the coast, as well as a tiny jaunt to Seattle (where I visited UW's campus. Beautiful enough for me to consider going to grad school there. But only for about 2 minutes.) Ten weeks left of frenetic designing, job searching, and homework.


"everything that is done in the world is done by hope" -martin luther

purloined pleasures

Molly brought me some pretty wool from Germany when she was there over Christmas.


It took about two months to get here in the slow and cheap mail, but because now it's spring break I finally have time to play with it.

Isn't "knitting your brow" a funny expression? But I think I'm doing just that in concentration over my needles . . .

per your request

I don't think you'll be able to critique my design from it, but yes, this is part of what I do at school. A photo of my presentation . . . and the model.But no picture of me in front loking triumphant. One of my professors from a previous studio was hovering behind me with a camera while I was presenting my project the second time and managed to capture me mid-questioning-look and awkward point-to-the-design-aspect-up-for-debate. Which she promptly emailed to me, but I'll spare you that. She didn't actually review my project with me, but when I talked to her later, the thing she brought up first was the choice of green as a choice for the graphics. Why was this a problem? "Maybe not the best for your blue eyes." Maybe that's why I'm not posting the photo with me in front! But otherwise, the critiques were mostly helpful. By this point though (after 5 years of practice), if we know our reviewers well enough before we talk to them, it's pretty easy to predict what they'll like and what they'll hate, which issues they'll want to discuss and what design struggles they don't even want to hear about.
End-of term reviews are always anti-climactic. We all work for days and days, living and breathing our projects and then we discuss our work with two different people for about half an hour each and then it's done.

We stumbled out into the sunshine to celebrate the accomplishment of being halfway through our final studio with a group lunch, and then I wandered back to school to see some of the other reviews (furniture studio and some of the architecture ones) before collapsing on the grass with friends for the remainder of the afternoon.

The perfect way to spend the rest of the day. We giggled ourselves silly and the guys played music. Very relaxing. When I got home, I slept/dozed for two hours and then got up to eat and have a glass of wine with the girls and then, when I finally got to bed, managed to sleep in till 10 this morning.

I will miss these university days.

Now I have to catch up on the rest of my life. Some things manage to fall to the wayside when a deadline looms --like housecleaning.

model behavior

I spent the entire evening yesterday starting work on the model for my presentation on Friday.
I'd rather draw a drawing any day: one point perspective? two point perspective? --I'll diagram the thing to death if you want but please don't make me model a building! (Usually I leave them till the very last, which doesn't help things.)
I only poked myself with the exacto knife once, but when I didn't notice that it actually bled quite a bit I only narrowly missed staining an all-white model.
But other than that, it was fine. Surprised myself, actually.

But it's not finished yet.

springtime on campus

Gorgeous weather today . . . sorry to bring up such a mundane topic, but it's so beautiful!
Spring is definitely on the way --things even smell better! The cherry tree outside Molly's room is budding and campus is looking so pretty and green. When I was driving to Salem this weekend I enjoyed the vivid green grass with the blue hills in the background. The colors are spectacular. And the sheep, I can't leave out the sheep. No lambs yet, but lots of sheep in the foreground. (I don't know why all these sheep have interstate-front properties, but I've always wondered.)

Two more weeks left to work on my studio project . . . three more weeks of term . . . then spring break!! I think Molly and I will go to Seattle for at least a little bit and drop in on our friend Ayda. Other than that, a lot of nothingness planned for me. Well, the job hunt should be pursued. At the professional firms visiting day last week, I felt rather claustrophobic. There were all kinds of firms with big splashy posters and "booths" up. And there I was, walking through the narrow aisles with my portfolio clutched tightly to my chest. A hand thrust in my direction: "How are YOU doing today?!" in a big booming voice. And: "What's your major? OOooh interiors. Well, we've got a GREAT interiors group at ---(insert "three-intial-combination of your choice" architecture firm. Really.) !"

Scary salesmen.

In the meantime, I need to cook some dinner and do some more CAD tonight. (Some days I think my life is measured in linecommands: line-copy-crop-offset-trim-zoomout-zoomin-move-line-line-
POLYLINE!-crop-zomout.)

and this is love . . .

Post-birthday festivities, I am trying to get back into the school-rhythm of things preparing for a mid-term presentation in Portland on Friday. In the studio, we have mixed feelings about what to expect: we're supposed to be just fine presenting drawings and sketches on trace paper (NOT formal at all) but there will be professionals (read: potential employers) there to review our work!
Should be fun though. We'll probably end up going out to dinner as a group and collectively freaking out/rejoicing about our post-school futures.

. . . and tomorrow is Valentine's Day. I got some lovely tulips (thank-you, Mom!) and am reconciling myself to being perennially single. I put on a very good front about being an independent-career-woman type sometimes, but goodness! -I don't need a commercial holiday to remind me.

Here are some Belle and Sebastian lyrics for your enjoyment:

If you find yourself caught in love
Say a prayer to the Man above
Thank Him for everything you know
You should thank Him for every breath you blow

If you find yourself caught in love
Say a prayer to the Man above
You should thank Him for every day you pass
Thank Him for saving your sorry ass.

If you're single, but looking out
You must raise your prayer to a shout
Another partner must be found
Someone to take your life beyond
Another TV "I Love 1999"
Another box of cheapo wine

If you find yourself caught in love
You should say a prayer to the Man above

If you don't listen to the voices then my friend
You'll soon run out of choices
What a pity it would be
You talk of freedom don't you see
The only freedom that you'll ever really know
Is written in books from long ago
Give up your will to Him that loves you
Things will change, I'm not saying overnight
But something good has to give . . .

(from "If You Find Yourself Caught In Love" from Dear Catastrophe Waitress)

When I was looking for those lyrics I came across part of Stuart's tour diary where he responds to the question "your biggest influence?" with the answer:

"God. Quite an irritating answer in some regards, but I find it hard to see past the omniscient One. I'm firmly of the opinion that everything good comes from Him, from a chord change in a Beatles' song, to the sound of drums on a Joy Division record. 'Course the Beatles and Joy Division are perfectly entitled to disagree with me."


--

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights" (James 1:17) and "dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God." (I John 4:7).

I thought I was the only one

I have been teased, on occasion, for taking my fascination with color a little too far. When they were visible (my last two apartments have had open closets) I organized my clothes according to color. This year, I went so far as to organize my bookshelf according to hue. I'm not one of those people who feels it's necessary to design every inch of my life, but I couldn't resist this strange compulsion. Somehow, this is the most logical order system for me and my books.

But I recently came upon this article about other people who do the same. Some have even taken it to the level of art form!
Anyways, I was reminded of this today when I walked into studio and noticed that one of the other girls (who had just moved her things into studio) had done the same thing. And we had a good chat about it.

It's confirmed. I'm a design freak. At least there are more of us.

illustrious beginnings

So I haven't posted in a while . . . mostly because school started and things just seemed to get busy right away.
I'm going into part one of my comprehensive project studio. Finally, I'll be able to design something! Last term was spent doing some research and actually coming up with ideas for the project. I finally settled on a daycare. I think I'll enjoy working on it. So many people, when they have the chance to determine what they want to design, pick something very cool and unique. A restaurant, a high-end retail space. Something that you can throw a lot of money at, and, of course make it really amazing. I chose something that, on the coolness scale of things, isn't very high on the list. But really, that's why I think it has so much potential. It might be a bit of a challenge to make a sophisticated design out of something like a child care center, but I'm looking forward to it. I've been doing my research, and I've seen some really well done examples, so it can be done.
Yesterday afternoon I spent some time in studio looking at children's books. Really, it was part of my research! We were all working on precedent studies, and besides just looking at built environments, I was interested in looking at the illustration styles of the books we all remembered and loved from our childhood. Curious George and TikiTikiTembo and Babar and Madeline and Courderoy and Where the Wild Things Are and the Pokey Little Puppy and Richard Scarry and the Velveteen Rabbit and Goodnight Moon. Good memories!
So that's what I've been up to recently. Besides all the site documentation and research interviews, putting all my building drawings into CAD. More of that today . . . but the brainlessness of it is okay when you can blast the music.
David also asked me to lead a girls' group for RUF. Yikes! I was really nervous about it, but it's going alright. My first reaction was more along the lines of: "Me?! What the heck do I know about anything?" but that's not really the point. We're actually using a book by Michael Horton that covers basic tenets of Reformed theology. Good reading.
Anyways, I really do have to get back to work. I was going to work in studio today, but I think I'll just do my drawings at home. It's so much nicer to have free-range access to food and see my roommate.
So, it's back to CAD and tea for me.

I am taking a creative break at the moment. I'm supposed to be working on some presentation boards for my Dad, but wasn't feeling terribly inspired. I hate it when that happens. Usually I can run through a magazine or two and things start to click. So I started thinking about some cool things I've been entertained by recently . . .

I watched Casino Royale the other day and I really liked the opening credits sequence. And, in case you haven't seen it, it didn't involve nekkid women. The graphics were kind of retro and, I thought, clever. They used playing card motifs throughout and had some fun with it. Personally, after I see the creative work that some people generate, I would love just to be a fly on the wall in their studio for a while. If you haven't seen the movie, I'd recommend it for that sequence alone (but I get excited about little design things like that) -and the gritty black and white opening scenes. I enjoyed the rest of the movie too. However, I find that sometimes I tune into the wrong things. Justine can testify to that! -I am easily distracted by furniture. "M" has some nice Barcelona chairs in her flat, and there is one tender scene in which the female lead (I suppose properly I should call her a "Bond girl") has a bit of a breakdown in the bathroom and I caught myself thinking "Ooooo. That is one nice toilet. I wonder if it's Duravit?" and then had to steer myself back to the drama at hand. One thing I did notice though, was prevalent product placement. It begins to bother me when I know I'm being beaten over the head with a particular brand. For example, I don't like it when I actually notice that "Bond . . . James Bond" is driving a Ford? And then realize I was supposed to notice, when the next car that drives by is, surely not, a Ford again? Undoubtably by design. It happened a few more times with different things, and later found a complete list of "partners" when I was trying to find more information on the designers of the title sequence. I'm glad that at least I didn't notice all the namedropping I was supposed to.

But as for some good advertising I've seen lately, Adrian showed me the Sony Bravia comercials. In order to sell the idea of "colour. like no other" they've enlisted bouncy balls on the streets of San Francisco and paint exploding over buildings. Lovely.

That, and the Target commercials this past Christmas didn't use the usual bells jingling in the background for their music; instead they used music from Goldfrapp's Supernature.

It's the little things that make the difference. Really, it doesn't take much to make me happy.

On Christmas Eve I dropped my mp3 player. Sad! It had survived so much. I'd had it for exactly two years (it was a bit of a dinosaur) and it served me well. I am now observing a period of silence, living without music - but not really. I just have to use cds all the time and my family has been exposed to my musical tastes more than usual, for better or worse. (Adrian complains that all my music is too sad.)
I've ordered a new one, though, and it's on its way. Yipee! I have to work for my dad to pay for it, but it'll be worth it. It has more functions than my old one and is smaller, but still 30GB. Hopefully that's enough for a while. My last one was more than half full . . . now I have to load my music library again, which may be time consuming. I'm hoping it shows up before school starts again; I don't think I could survive the next two terms in studio without music. Scary thought! I just have to be very very careful not to drop it like the klutz that I am.

My weird, music-related anecdote for the day: In all the news coverage about James Brown's death he's hailed as the "godfather of soul." I thought out loud and had to ask my brother who, if Brown was the godfather, was actually the "father of soul"? We googled it and it's Ray Charles. Now I know. And I guess there's no mother, but Aretha Franklin has been called the queen of soul (to Elvis' "King"? But he's a different genre! I'm confused.) Ask a silly question . . .

I pick Molly up from the airport next week. I was insanely jealous when I dropped by her place at the beginning of break when she was packing up that red backpack to go to Germany. When I saw her throw on that pack (my old friend!) I have to admit to a sharp longing to pick up and leave again. It's not like I wasn't invited (they tried very hard to convince me to go), it's just the pursestrings holding me back. I guess while they all met up in Germany, the crew decided to plan another reunion in Alaska this summer. I hope that if it actually comes together I can go. I'd love to see all those folks again! -and do some sightseeing too. Nuria's already saving up.

So here's to 2007!

We are the hoarse whisperers.

A hushed conversation my brother and I had in the hallway this morning.

Adrian: "Psssssssst"
Me: "hey---"
A: "Did you get anything for Nadine yet?"
M: "No.
pause
"Did you?"
A: "No.
pause
"Did you get anything for Dad yet?"
M: "No.
pause
"Did you?"
A: "Me either.
"Did you find anything for Mom yet?"
M: "No.
pause
"Did you?"
A: "No."
M: "Maybe we should go Christmas shopping today."
A: "Yeeeeeeah."

Only 2 more shopping days and the traffic was absolutely crazy.
Adrian is used to this last minute gift-shopping pressure though. Last year my mom and I both got Elvis themed gifts. My mother a lovely calendar (huh?) and I got an elvis deck of cards. We still don't know why . . .

My oma passed away earlier this evening. She'd been suffering from dementia for a long time and things had steadily been getting worse. When I visited her back in October, she didn't know me anymore at all, didn't interact with me or try to talk to me. She just pointed at my very pointy shoes (I'd rushed there straight from church) as if she wanted a pair too.

But today she is with the Lord! Her struggles against mental and physical infirmities are over.

We are all flying out to Ontario tomorrow morning and we'll be there for a week. My parents have just finished all the arrangements and we have to start packing. We're leaving for the airport in something like 4 hours.

On this, my last Christmas break --the last time I might be "home" for any length of time for Christmas -- I'd been beginning to realize that life gets more complicated and takes unexpected turns. I was looking to the future and wondering what was in store . . . not knowing, not understanding.

But I love this quote. I found it last week when I was reading Derek Thomas' sermons on the ascent psalms.

"I've learnt something. I've learnt something about trusting God, of who He is and what He's like, that I don't concern myself about great matters. Because there are things that happen in my life that are incomprehensible to me. I cannot make sense of them, even if I were to spend the rest of eternity trying to unravel all of its parts, I still couldn't make sense of it. But I'm not called upon to make sense of it. I'm called to believe that God makes sense of it, and that He works all things together for the good of those that love Him, and that He weaves a pattern that is so intricate, and yet so loving and gracious, that in every thread of your life there is a gold line in it of the grace and mercy of God."

Dr. Derek Thomas, in a sermon on psalm 131.

Now that everyone has officially recovered from a weekend of thanksgiving feasting, the Christmas season is upon us. We even had the tiniest little bit of snow last night! –but it’s melted away already, of course. One of my new favorite Christmas heralds is the annual airing of “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” I’d never seen it till I came to the States! Besides the fact that it has cute little kids doing the voices for the animated characters and really great music, my favorite part every year is when it faithfully tells the good news. Little Linus takes the stage, and then, “out of the mouth of babes” comes my favorite moment on tv all year:

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
“And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
“‘For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
“‘And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.’
“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of heavenly host praising God, and saying,

“‘Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth, peace, good will toward men.’

“That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”

I can’t help it; it gives me goosebumps every time, and sometimes I even tear up a little. But it’s a good grief.

Christmastime is here, and guess what I’m watching tonight!?

Molly and I were hostesses this weekend! Yesterday we threw our own little Thanksgiving dinner for a few friends, complete with homemade stuffing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and of course, a turkey.
Neither of us having ever prepared a turkey before, and especially not without the supervision of our mothers, we delved into research. (My sketchbook became a home to recipies dictated by my mom)

Molly bathed and rinsed our baby bird in the sink, and then we stuffed it. Here I am with my hands under the skin of the turkey. This is the girl who's afraid enough of chicken germs that she doesn't really cook meat for herself. Aren't you proud of me?!

I have a smile on my face too! The completely stuffed raw turkey. Pretty, eh?

After we got the turkey nicely tucked away in the oven, Molly prepared some celebratory drinks.

And there's the finished product.

Leftovers, anyone?