Boat Thoughts (Stream of Consciousness Style!)

I watched the sun set over the marina a few minutes ago.  It started to get chilly so I moved inside, flipped on a lamp and curled up on the couch/bed.  I spend a lot of my time doing work in my bed anyway so this setup seems ideal.

There’s a barely perceptible rocking motion that I’m still not used to.  My brain is like, WHAT IS THIS.  WHY ARE WE FAILING TO CONTROL OUR MOTION, BODY.  GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.

The live aboard lifestyle would definitely be a change for me.  I’m already a minimalist but this would be extreme survivor style minimalism.  Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little.  But my life is pretty comfortable right now the way it is and hey, remember how I know absolutely nothing about sailing?  Right.

I like the way the air smells here.  It’s not salt water but the bay has a certain aroma that I can pick up after I cross fourth street headed towards the pedestrian bridge over I-80.

And the birds.  Ducks, egrets (?), seagulls smashing oysters (?) on the dock.  Maybe someday I’ll find the birds irritating.  But for now, it’s a nice soundtrack to a peaceful night.

Twenty-Five before 25

  1. See the northern lights Compose a list of 28 things that I love
  2. Find the secret hot tubs on Essex Street
  3. Go without facebook for a month (or more..?)
  4. Read twenty-five novels/poetry collections/non-fiction-non-architecture books.  (Follow along on Goodreads)
  5.  Try twenty-five new recipes
  6.  Go on a multi-day hiking trip
  7.  Take one weekend adventure per month that involves leaving Berkeley and not doing anything school related.
  8. Start dancing again (Berkeley Ballet Theater)
  9. Learn how to play the guitar
  10. Run a half marathon.
  11. Take a photo a day for a month
  12. Get my nose pierced
  13. Host a sophisticated dinner party
  14. Attend a slam poetry event
  15. Fire a gun.
  16. Acquire the wardrobe essentials / stop buying clothing that can’t be worn in a variety of ways.
  17. Keep snowboarding!  Learn how to sail
  18. Buy a bathing suit.
  19. Go a week without complaining
  20. Practice mindful eating.
  21. Volunteer with Habitat for Humanity — learn how to use tools! Be able to read architecture articles in Dutch
  22. Become more emotionally mature/aware and feel ready for a relationship.
  23. Call my mom once  per week.
  24. Learn self defense.
  25. Decorate my bedroom.

Good Deeds, Foggy Morning

Classes started three weeks ago and since then, I’ve been pretty good about getting myself up and out the door in a timely manner.  Despite the fog this morning, I got on my bike and made the two mile trek to campus. So here I am, sitting at my desk in studio, watching the fog roll off the top of the Campanile and making my daily to do list. 

I’ve been trying to work on doing good deeds, as cliche as that sounds.  I think this is a pretty typical human experience, but usually when I do something for someone else it’s with the implication that eventually they’ll repay the favor.  That by showing them that they can count on me, I can count on them a little more.  I know that in the past few months I’ve asked some pretty insane favors of my friends: midnight airport pickups, help with my bike, relationship advice, borrowing outfits for parties, shoulders to cry on when things seemed bleak and unbearable. And the great thing about having a flexible schedule is that I can repay those favors; I’m the friend who is available in the middle of the day to run a quick errand, give dating advice or proofread an essay.  Those are things I do happily, because what’s the point of life if you don’t spend it with the people that you value?

Being kind to strangers, on the other hand, is infinitely more difficult.  I’d love to give time or money to charity but right now I have neither, and I think a lifetime on the east coast has made me incredibly suspicious of strangers.  It’s mostly a defense mechanism; despite all the reassurances I’ve given my grandmother that nothing is going to happen to me when I’m on BART or walking around downtown late at night there’s always the little voice in my head with a running commentary of all the bad things that have happened to women featured on the eleven o’clock news.  So there’s one thing holding me back: fear.

But I don’t have to let those reservations seep into my everyday life (well, unless there is an occasion when I should be vigilant, like at a bar or walking around in a bad area).  There’s no reason not to make conversation with the elderly lady at Berkeley Bowl or the guy sitting next to me on the bus.  People here are much friendlier than where I grew up, and I suppose I have a friendly looking face that makes people want to talk to me.

I’ve been easing into this goal over the weekend: making eye contact and smiling at people while I’m walking, unlocking the studio door for someone who had her hands full, listening to strangers at a party, moving my groceries up on the conveyer belt for the person behind me.   Baby steps, but it definitely feels lovely.

Winter Break Reading List

Or, all the things I wanted to read this semester but didn’t have time for.

– At Home, Bill Bryson
– Rome, Robert Hughes
– Metaphors we live by, George Lakoff
– Keywords, Raymond Williams
– How to Keep the Social Flat, Bruno Latour
– The Image of the City, Kevin Lynch
– Snoop: What Your Stuff Says About You, Sam Gosling
– Communities of Practice, Etienne Wenger
– Public Sculpture and the Civic Idea in NYC, Michele Bogart
– Spatial Recall, ed. Marc Treib
– Los Angeles: The Architecture of Four Ecologies, Reyner Banham
– Moonwalking with Einstein, Joshua Foer
– This is How you Lose Her, Junot Diaz
– Spontaneous Shrines and the Public Memorialization of Death, Jack Santino