Monday 17th January § Leave a comment

Give up on yourself. Begin taking action now, while being neurotic or imperfect, or a procrastinator or unhealthy or lazy or any other label by which you inaccurately describe yourself. Go ahead and be the best imperfect person you can be and get started on those things you want to accomplish before you die.
Shoma Morita


A Comment

Thursday 15th March § Leave a comment

“Im a philosophical hobbyist, do this just for kicks and giggles but seriously nice work on the anti kitsch, I love when people identify things its good beans … To go calmly into the dark is to forget the power of the candle said confused gus

what is school teaching about true good endure these days? yeah thats my question smarty pants 🙂 really im curious though, is sophism more identifiable than rightousness in self reflection? for that matter am I only trying to shine a light on something I have no idea or concept of or do we all already understand the universe but forget certain parts? TRUTH GOODNESS and ENDURANCE thats how the artistry survives, keep it up and soon I will invent a medal for people like you who nail coffins of predispositional mummys, the tomb of proof is beauty in art, the questions all outweigh the real truths, over englishification of something so very very simple equals people going crazy to figure things out when they only need to step down their two feet at once thats all they need now draw it and email me it and I will have a resounding feeling of hope that I am accurate and goodness will prevail ! truth comes cheap always in exchange for favor for favor, they say social credit is the last thing keeping us away from them too dont forget to put that into your picture there”

This is a comment left by a person called Cory at 5:30 on the 12th of March. Originally posted on the About Me page.

I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s complimentary, I think. (In all honesty, I can’t make sense of quite a lot of it). I hadn’t considered the possibility that people might actually read this stuff, or that they might read it in semi-seriousness. So I want to add this disclaimer: Please, don’t believe anything you read here. It’s just random musings on what I’m thinking at one point in time, mainly composed in a sleep deprived, hyperactive, or UHU fume stupor and has the type of intellectual rigour that would make a tabeloid journalist proud.

In response to Cory’s question about truth goodness and endurance (if I understand it correctly): We’ve yet to be taught any theory beyond the very basics at the Uni: colour theory, primary objects and systems of proportion. Metaphysics within architecture is so far beyond the horizon that we could quite possibly never have to think about it. At the moment the drive is to prod us towards creating Architecture (pronounced with a capital A).

Personally, I’m cynical about the idea of ‘true’ architecture (or an art), because that suggests that there should be one unified style of architecture, devoid of originality. Not that originality in itself is worth a hat.

A Windy Day

Friday 19th January § 2 Comments

After having done almost nothing for the last two weeks, I’ve
tried to compensate by two weeks worth of activities in the space of two days.

Yesterday was really spent on borrowed time, after having not slept that evening. About 5:30 in the morning I decided that I was going to write(code) a fullscreen image viewer, which is really useful for previewing images.

There was a fantastic open-lecture by the sudo-client (who’s name I promptly forgot) for the Performing Arts centre designed by Raphael Vinioli. It’s a really interesting project: two theatres, setup in such a way that either can make use of an extended central stage, or even to open up the whole space to include both spaces, the idea was that the workings of the stages would be revealed to the public. What was really interesting was hearing from a clients eye view on such a huge project. This guy was so pashionate about the project and the possibilities, this is Stage 1 of an idea he’s been pushing for 8 years now. Really crappy on the eco front, and 3 times over it’s initial budget, it’s still quite brilliant architecture. (Apparently, being environmentally friendly costs approximately 5% extra)

Today was a bit slow to start. Missed the last of the moisture ingress laboratories because I slept in. Spent 2 hours messing about in Sketchup. For our first model we’ll be copying Mies Van De Rohe’s iconic Barcelona Pavilion, originally designed in 1929 (The current pavilion is a 1970’s replica, because the original got carefully dismantled, but then they lost. They lost a whole building in the post!). The roof of the CAD-lab was groaning ominously in the storm-force winds. The courtyard of our building was roped off because but’s of the Fletcher building where falling off.

Then Rose, Chris and I went house shopping ‘round lunchtime but discounted that property because it didn’t have a double bed. But later saw a house at 5 and came out and within half an hour we’d each withdrawn a £250 deposit so hopefully that will go through in the morning – in my absence. It couldn’t be closer to the campus.

In between the house hunting I sketched a small doodle that I instantly saw in 3D. No inspirations, no process. Miraculous conception.

It’s more like walk through sculpture than true ‘architecture’. Blurry lines I know. General themes that I was pondering at the time: wind 🙂 waves, texture and puzzling about what makes an idea worthy of scaling up into an all out concept. How do you chose what to develop? Why? How should that choice be made? But in the end this idea turned up out of nowhere, complete, and perfectly formed and so I’m just going to go along with it. It’s not as if I can forget this idea, so I’m stuck with it, no matter how hard its going to be to draw/model/construct. Anyway, next Wednesday shoud see inductions into the Metal Working workshops which will be brill.

Then there was climbing (glowing tinglyness throughout), followed by a brief spell in another pub, but I left before the pub quiz got started because my head aches.

Apparently the ‘place to be’ for live music in Leicester is a tiny pub called The Twisted Toucan, with open mic sessions with talented people and live Reggae and cool stuff like that.

Right now I’m enjoying flipping between ‘The Trial Of Tony Blair’ and the realities of Newsnight. Fiction and reality merging. There are moments when it’s . Switch from a fake Gordon Brown patronising likqwl kiddies in a classroom to the real Gordon, being even more patronising to a group of kids on the starting block of a school race, cut to him chewing the cud (in reality). Meaningful TV.

Oh, and tomorrow I’m going to gawp at the glossy glass losenge starchitecture of Manchester as part of the Uni. 10 buildings within the course of the day.

And for those in the loop, I think I’ve lost my mobile phone.

One huge plus-side, in my rather manic search for my mobile, I happened to look behind my bedside cupboard where I discovered my tiny Fuji digital camera that I thought I’d lost about 2 months ago. In the mean time, believing that the Fuji was well and truly vanished I treated myself to a fantastic Pentax digital SLR. Techno-gluton that I am, I’m tempted to keep them both. Photos will be forthcoming.
If I mention that Irn-Bru is a godly drink which would be ideal accompanied by a shot(glass) of lemon(juice) then I’ve manged to tick off all of those pesky category thingies down the side in the one post.

Love to all & noswaith da.

Working Late

Monday 11th December § Leave a comment

3:15 in the morning and I think I’ve cracked this late night working. The secret is that there needs to be some kind interesting podcasty thing going on in the background.

Many hours flew by thanks to the handily timed discovery of: ‘Kant‘s Epistemology‘, a whole lecture series by Dr Susan Stuart of Glasgow Uni. There’s not much else around with a philosophical bent (not true philosophising anyway), but this is the real candy.

There’re whole sentences that just fly by without being understood, and they use really long words ‘n all. That’s how you know it’s good. Brilliant in-fact. Definitely worth repetition.

Maybe in a few years I’ll have learnt not to leave things to the last minute.


Friday 3rd November § Leave a comment

I can’t ever remember feeling like this. It feels as if the cold snap hat has enveloped Leicester has swept through my mind, sweeping through my brain. I have no thoughts. If I want to philosophise about it , there must be part of me that is observing this emptyness of thought, in-order for me to know the state I’m in. Some part of me must be conscious enough to be writing this, but I can’t find it within myself.

I finished climbing, played a bit of ping-pong with Matt(oh, the memories; I’ve forgotten how to serve fast) and then. There was a half a pint in the Gatehouse Pub, a quater of which I downed in the hope that alcohol would . It hasn’t worked. I feel perfectly sober.

Which leads me perfectly to my new theory of drunkeness, as it relates to me. Tonight I drank a half, absolutely no effect whatsoever, but the same . The alchol just releases my pent up hyperness. If I’m depressed it would enhance my depression. If I’m not thinking, then it just makes me think more nothing. Therefore I shall try my best to drink, only when I’m at my happiest (as opposed to drinking to find happiness which never works).

After making my excuses, I walked for a bit. Talked blankly to Lizzie (one half of a couple of really georgeous girls) and then walked home. All without any form of thought. I never walk without thinking. I never don’t think It’s part of living. Beyond sobber maybe. I’ve reached the ultimate wu-wei of the Taoist doctrine which translates roughly as no-thought.

It’s not very enlightened. I just feel incredibly stupid. Like the reverse of the trolls in Terry Prachett books who can only think and operate below certain temperatures or else they turn to stone. The cold here has frozen all possible thought. All that remains is blankness, devoid of emotion, a husk, an empty shell. The closest thing I can think of is that feeling that you get at parties when you suddenly realise your completly sober when everyone else is truly wasted and you just sit ther for a while. No. Maybe just me then.

Here’s a photo of a (semi-complete) collage for my second project which is (in theory) based on rhythm.
Collage On The Theme Of Rhythm

The Black List

Thursday 2nd November § Leave a comment

A group of charities would submit petitions to a government all-party quango who would determine a list of companies to have companies blacklisted for their records of breaking human rights legislation’s or of serious environmental crimes both here and in the rest of the world.

Banks and buildings societies as well as other corporations such as supermarkets would sign up voluntarily to boycott any company on this list. The only sanction for breaking this embargo would be the adverse publicity that this would cause.

A company on the black list could appeal to the government quango.

Six monthly reports by the quango would publicise the worst offenders with the aim of using public bargaining power to force the companies to ‘do the right thing’ in order to protect their brand image and by association, their profits.

Government run. Open to bribery? Not enforced strongly enough?

Amnesty International project? Global list.


Thursday 20th July § Leave a comment

I don’t hold too much faith in ghosts, fairies, lay-lines, UFO’s or religion, but I do believe in fate. Coincidences have a strange way of cropping up which seems way beyond coincidental.

This morning I started reading Chapter XIV of Bertrand Russels ‘A History Of Western Philosophy’ entitled ‘Plato’s Utopia’ which starts with a few paragraphs that proclaim ‘the Republic’ to be Plato’s most important diologue which seeks to define ‘justice’. He(Plato) approaches this by outlining his’s ideal commonwealth in which a philosopher king rules, then analysing what it means to be a philosipher and finally discussing the advantages and pitfalls of various kinds of constitutional models.

Then this afternoon I saw a translation of that very same text priced at 99p in a charity shop in Llandrindod. A philistine might say that I was primed to spot the book, that I entered the shop only because my sister is a compulsive charity shop shopper and only passing through Landod to get my rail ticket to the Green Gathering, but I say nay, all of these are merely evidence of fate in action.

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