I get why this statement is so obnoxious. Shit happens and just advise folks to move on? Is this the content creator’s version of hustle culture? How do you say #privilege with anything more trite?
Let me try to defend the sentiment with three tangents.
What else should we do? Making art is unequivocally better than doom-scrolling (or gloat-trolling). This world hasn’t actually changed today—a guy just won a four-year lease on a building at the edge of a continent. You’re not that dude. If you should’ve been making art on Monday then you should make art on Wednesday too.
In a world of competing truths, I hope you believe there is something special with your truth. Make art that lives in this truth and let us partake through your art.
Most importantly, making art shifts your world. It might not be a direct path to enlightenment like reading Spinoza, but if you aren’t meditating under a waterfall, then mashing marks on paper is a fine way to exploring the truth.
By all means, be human. Feel the dread (or elation). Curse the gods. Then hug the kids and guinea pig. Shit, shower, and shave. And get to work. We need you to make it.
I’m trying a new format where I just comment on things with three bullet points. Hopefully it will help me blow through the backlog of old blog drafts. Thought I’d try it out by looking at the year in review and the year to come.
My theme this year was “catching up”. I feel like I did just OK with the theme, but the more that I think about it, it was an eventful year as we started re-integrated back into society despite our pandemic caution.
Highlights
Buying a House
Visiting San Diego (twice!)
Two great architects joined the Division
Hobbies
Reading — Homer and Tarot
Substack — finding fellow wanderers on Notes
Fountain Pens — Sketching and Calligraphy
Lowlights
Getting the house ready for move-in, renovations are still miserable.
Didn’t exercise nor eat well enough, gained weight.
Distractions, unfocused focused, especially the second half of this year.
,
a year a life goodbye tomorrow smiles and sorrow hello
When calligraphing, I have to be completely focused. This morning I chose John Coltrane’s Giant Steps instead of the usual Chicken and Dumplin’s by Bobby Timmons. That slight change was enough to add an extra O to the page. Fortunately, the early mistake kept me ultra-concentrated for the rest of the exercise.
It’s been twenty years since hand drafting at the ground floor of Ron Bogley’s house. Small residential doesn’t pay well, but it was the most fun I’ve had as an architect. Graphite on vellum is a lot more forgiving so I would listen to the baseball games as I lettered.
,
2024
My theme for next year is “settling in”. For the new house and everywhere else. The first half of the year will be a mess between the house and the biennial cycle for my government job. Hopefully the second half will be a time of customizing the home to fit our needs, it’s been a decade of always thinking we’re moving soon.
Settling In
At the new House
Returning to the Office (again)
Digital Places and Processes
Practices
Sketching and Calligraphy
Exercising
Reading my repeating “little library” and pushing forward on the classics
Tiny Targets (and goals)
Three deep breaths on a yoga mat every morning. (I’d love to do the 8 Brocades three times a week, but I’ll start tiny.)
Sit down and say a small mantra before eating anything, including snacks. (The big goal is to lose a couple of pounds a month, but the numerical goal failed spectacularly last year. Maybe instilling a mindfulness practice is the first step in the process.)
Do something with a pen every morning (It would be nice to finish my OPM Letters and clear out my pile of read books to be blogged.)
,
new book new year new month new week new day Foundational Hand new font
I wrote this on 12/26 with a new-to-me font from The Art of Calligraphy by David Harris. I messed up the word order on the last line (working from bottom up) and kept it for the rest of the poem. But it sounds wrong so I went back to the original wording in the light blue scribbles.
I’m not sure if I will stick with Foundational Hand for a long period (as I did with Uncial) but I’ll give it at least a week before exploring other fonts.
This morning habit of writing a tiny poem for calligraphy practice has a highlight of this season to close out the year. Thanks to Beth Kempton and Nadia Gerassimenko for catalyzing the #tinypoem project! I just got Mary Oliver’s A Poetry Handbook — hopefully her wisdom will help me write gooder before I start publishing them in earnest.
I don’t believe in Baby Jesus no more so I Christmas all the Harder
I grew up conservative Christian. And Asian-American. My parents left Hong Kong and Taiwan and met here in the States. With the clarity of immigrants, they sensed that Christmas was a frivolous, secular holiday.
When my sister and I were teens, they gave in. We started exchanging small gifts. My mom added small decorations around to the house but never bothered with a tree.
We still drove down to LA from the Bay Area on Christmas because traffic was lighter. We’d eat at my grandparent’s favorite dim sum place in Monterey Park. (My aunt suspected that they liked that spot because the tea was brewed extra strong.)
We didn’t buck the holiday, but we never gave it religious significance. For a real Christian, every day is Christmas and Easter. Picking out holy-days still feels kind of pagan.
I drifted away when I grew up. It didn’t do much for me emotionally, and I finally bailed when George W. Bush co-opted the religious establishment to support his optional war. Even so, I always planned on taking my kids to church on Christmas, so they could feel the religious origins of this season.
That notion died with the election of the Trump. My wife (never religious) was so disgusted with white evangelicals that she didn’t want our kids anywhere near such cruel hypocrites nor be tempted by the pomp and circumstance of their celebration.
Instead, every year I put up a plastic tree from Ikea on Thanksgiving, buy a few toys, wrap the last six months of library book sale finds in old architectural printouts, watch a Christmas movie, and clean everything up on New Year’s Day.
Last year ago, I told my daughter the myth of Jesus. It blew her mind. I might as well have grown a third head (or narrated the nsfw story of Lot and his daughters).
An all-powerful deity came down to this filthy planet to be born in horse shit, grow up as a carpenter, start a small cult as a wandering sage, only to be executed in excruciating fashion. All to pay the blood penalty for the evil committed by his own shithead creatures.
So here I am, suddenly marveling at the magic of Christmas. Say what you will about the religion, that’s an awesome story.
I quit drawing twenty years ago because of the anxiety about the fidelity between the image and reality.
I would feel a panic attack in my throat when the image went off script and I knew I wasn’t going to spend the hours to make it perfect.
A few years ago I had accepted the hard fact that I would never draw again, like I will never take the time become literate in Chinese.
Last November, I started sketching again because I wanted to see more drawings on Post and Tara Trudel encouraged us to share our work.
It became a drawing habit by quietly following the 30 day challenge on Wendy MacNaughton’s Substack.
Now I’m drawing cause I enjoy it.
I know I’ve hit the flow when a deep breath exhales from my lungs. These 10 minute hand sketches have become a daily meditation.
They’re not perfect. They’re not even great (look at the all amazing hands on Pinterest!) But they’re mine and I’m an indulgent judge when I’m not worried about what other people might think.
Like my kids, I’ve learned to proudly marvel at the stuff that comes from my own hand. Imperfections and all.
I only watched this because of my daughter. I was just old enough to miss the book phenomenon, and I couldn’t be bothered to the watch the movies.
So far, it’s done nothing to interest me in reading the books, but I’ll be fine with watching future movies if she insists (tellingly, she hasn’t insisted in the months since we’ve watched it).
She had fun, though as all good readers she was disappointed in some of the changes.
Voldemort is a properly horrific villain. I could only imagine how much more scary this movie would be with modern CG.
But really, I’m realizing I’m an animation fan. Maybe it has something to do with watching very little TV (aside from documentaries) while growing up. Or I just prefer the surreal possibilities of that medium. Or the pure craft of the art.
Real life is magical enough, I don’t feel compelled to watch other humans live their lives on the big screen.
Maybe it’s cause I’m getting older. I feel a slight pressure of time and yet still harbor a desire to develop a deeper subject knowledge in a few cool subjects. The only way to square that circle is to start actively cutting things out.
Like in jazz. I ain’t ever giving up Coltrane, Thelonious, Kind of Blue, or Keith Jarrett’s solo albums. But I’ve recently decided to focus my listening on jazz trios. If it’s not one those greats, there better only be three folks on stage.
Or my recent trend towards avoiding books that are younger than me (Calvino and Murakami excepted), letting the ravages of time simplify my choices.
Then again, I thought I’d do something similar with EDM and Glitch Hop, but it doesn’t seem to have panned out. I’m back to listening to whatever banging noise gets me through work.
When I was in private practice, I avoided thinking about cost and schedule. Not that I was wasteful with my clients’ money, but these matters weren’t my responsibility.
As an Owner’s PM, that’s flipped. Budgets and schedules are what I do. Half my job is to justify funding for these projects (and the other half is to spend the money).
This experience has made war really expensive.
An M1A2 Main Battle Tank costs $9 million. Four of those would build a new 67,000 square feet school of education building that took five years of my life.
It costs $44,000 per hour to fly an F-35. That’s what I paid to demolish a kitchen to create an activity area for disabled residents.
Let’s not even think of all the hours of training for each soldier and the years of productivity that are erased with each well placed bullet.
War is doubly expensive when we factor in the opportunity cost of what hasn’t been built with these funds.
Triply so when we think of the destruction. Even a just war doesn’t negate the wanton waste of such a calamity.
And then we’ll have to rebuild it — if we get that chance.
~
Some Links
Last year, I stumbled across Bobby Timmons due to his brilliant Christmas album Holiday Soul. I recently discovered his awesome album This Here is Bobby Timmons. His life ended much too early, but he left us with some great music.
Nadia Gerassimenko writes an eclectic smorgasbord of essays, fiction, poetry, and guest posts that pulls from a wide field of influences including pop, horror, and video games. It’s always a pleasure to read, Her recent story “Siren with a soft sign” is a haunting story of a woman transforming into a flower bed.
I first met Debbie Ridpath Ohi elsewhere, but when she had Inkgirl I knew that Substack’s new “Notes” social media platform had a place for me. Her posts are always insightful, and her occasional long essays about her experience as an illustrator are applicable to anyone who starting (or continuing) a new endeavor.
Now that I’m WFH again…I took a moment to schedule my ideal work day.
After doing a 4×10 schedule at the office for the past five months, I decided to schedule for 9 hour workdays for the return of a five day week at home. The extra work hour gives me a flexible hour (or commute time) on any given day, or a half-day Friday.
5-7: Exercise, Read, Write
7-9: Work (2 hours)
9am Breakfast
10-2: Work (4 hours)
2pm Lunch
3-6: Work (3 hours)
6-9: Kids, Dinner, Music, Draw
9pm Sleep (8 hours)
Of course there’s no chance it will work as planned — I’m already scheduled for four site visits next week!
I’m curious if any of this silly, mundane dream of middle life pans out.
And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake:And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.
And God said, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.
To celebrate our 10 year anniversary, I’m sharing this house that has been a part of our marriage for 9 years and 7 months.
The 1,100 sf house was constructed in 1952 and needed a complete renovation.
Along with an complete update of the plumbing and electrical systems, the kitchen was rearranged with the former laundry room opened up for interior access and the insertion of a new powder room within the existing footprint.
Exterior work included a new roof, retrofitting the carport structure, and new concrete flatwork.
We performed the work as owner, architect, and general contractor overseeing the major trades. We also installed and refinished the interior throughout the house.
Project Description
This project was a constant irritant for four years, and we only lived in it for a few months. But it was worth it. We’ve had a great tenant for the last five years, and it set me up for the second phase of my career.
I had always been an employee without subordinates. This was the first time I managed other people. I suspect the hard won experience in difficult negotiations and contractor conflicts came through in my interview, helping me grab this job and preparing me to be an Owner PM.
Every architect should remodel their house, once.
This remodel also taught me to treasure the moment and trust my wife.
By the time we moved in, she was pregnant with the boy. Once he arrived, we moved back in with her parents so they could help with the kids. Then the girl started school in their neighborhood and we never came back.
The universe doesn’t care how long you’ve taken to pursue a dream. Maybe you’ll get nothing, but sometimes it will be kind. Be grateful for those moments, however short. We got a Thanksgiving and Christmas in our house.
Victory is fleeting, and time moves fast. This experience taught me to be picky with my commitments. I learned to focus on activities where I’ve already won by merely doing. (That’s why I’ll never do another house remodel!)
Remodeling isn’t easy with two architects. I tend to rush, but she would sense something amiss and pause. So we’d stop. And think. And redesign. Again and again.
Each delay took days, but it kept getting better. Replay this drama a few times and I got the message. If she’s not ready, then I know something is wrong. I learned to trust her instincts.
I suspect most folks can learn such lessons without a miserable house remodel, but this was our crucible. Here’s to a decade, let’s hope for many more!
I was curious about my lot in life, Of course the Wall Street Journal had an answer.
I started with my current wage. Top 6%. Nice!
Added demographic information. “Male, Asian, Gen X, with an Advanced Degree” Down to 44%!
Barely above the median! Last year, I joined a Slack channel with Berkeley alums. It was obvious that I was the lowest earning member.
What to make of it?
Well, I’m damn lucky. Even as the underachiever among my peers, I’m doing better than fine. A sign that I was born halfway between third base and home plate.
When I compare myself against the guys on Slack, I remind myself of the people building my projects, Trading their bodies for an hourly wage. I was there too, moving dirt in the Oakland hills, But just a short-timer before grabbing a desk job.
I’m blessed with a good career, with meaningful work that I enjoy. A gig that leaves time to hang out with the kids. Earning enough, we don’t worry about money.
Why am I comparing myself against others? #Enough is #Winning, everything else is #Vanity.
