GTBKI: Warren Miller Heller House

This is the Miller Heller house. It was built in 1876 by the first graduate of Cornell's architecture program. It is now owned by the AAP (Architecture Art and Planning) School and is used both for housing various adjunct professors and hosting various school events. On Thursday when I went to the graduate reception, it was here.

Our first studio project as M.Arch ones is actually centered around this house. We are going to plan a dinner party. I know it sounds like something better suited for someone in the school of hotel management but really it is an exercise to do with space... I'll let you know how it goes.

The nice thing about all this is that the house is only two blocks up from me. So today when I had to wake up to go and measure the inside, it was not that far of a walk.

In other news, the summer is fading away and about a half an hour ago the rain started again. I am actually enjoying it, especially as I do not have to leave my apartment again if I do not want to.

TGIF

Yesterday began with "Techniques in Visual Representation, Analog and Free-hand Drawing." We meet once a week on Fridays but I am quite confident she has it in the works to keep us occupied for more than that. Yes it will be a lot of work but the promise of the syllabus is to make us think like architects and use our pens as vessels of our creativity.

We got out early and I walked over to Willard Straight Hall to read for a while in the, go figure, reading room. It is actually a small library with different sections like poetry and literature, all for the passing student who wishes to sit down and relax a while in a very Romantic setting. There are fire places and large Victorian chairs to sit in, the kind with the high backs and sides that one would imagine Chesterton or Elliot sitting in, smoking a pipe.

One end of the reading room actually opens to a cafe and once they opened for lunch I bought a sandwich and ate it on the deck outside. I'll have to take a picture of the deck because it is probably the main reason that this building is becoming my favorite on campus. First, it is a massive roof space and the height of the surrounding neo-Gothic architecture impresses me. Second, it looks out over all of Ithaca.

Here is a picture of the front of the building that I stole off the web. The other side of the building faces the Cornell Slope and has a considerably larger facade (there is a one screen movie theater on the lower level).


After spending several hours reading Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, I walked across the promenade to Barnes Hall, where the entire architecture department was meeting for presentations by the faculty on what each of the studios will be doing this Fall. Each presentation approached a new set of problems and I couldn't help feeling that I was entering into a very prestigious and intellectual arena. I also couldn't help feeling that our new Chair of Architecture, Dagmar Richter, was dressed in flowing black and bore a striking resemblance to Prof. McGonagall as she welcomed back the students.

After the presentations we met with our studio back at Sibley Hall and were given our bay assignment in Rand. We then went up the third floor, to our new home, and discussed our first project.

Finally the day was coming to a close and a few of us decided to head over to the Big Red Barn, Cornell's Graduate and Professional Student Center, for TGIF or "Tell Grads its Friday", a weekly event with free food and $1 draft beers... sorry that was not accurately emphasized... FREE food and ONE DOLLAR beers! The building itself is very comfortable and the interior brings to mind a lodge in Aspen. When I get pictures I'll do a GTBKI post.

A Day of Firsts

Today was a day, a day of firsts.

I woke up at first light and had my first bowl of cereal (for the day). For the first time I took the bus to class. It was also my first time using my Cornell ID for the bus and I, at first, put the card into the wrong machine. It was not my first time embarrassing myself on the bus.

The class I was going to for the first time happened to by my first at Cornell and the first of my graduate studies. It was the first time I had been in Goldwin Smith Hall. It was the first time I had been in a lecture hall that large. It was the first time I had been in a class with both graduate and undergraduate students. It was the first time I had heard of a professor who commutes five hours to class and it was the first time I had heard of a professor who came to class, half as much as the students. It was the first time I had an 8:00 engagement finish by 8:15.

I walked home and applied for my first credit card. Minutes later I was approved for a credit card, for the first time, and spoke to a lady who was the first happy customer service representative that I have ever encountered. I then walked down to the Commons and signed up for a checking account at the first bank I ran into (this was not happenstance, I had already selected the branch). I was first in line and received my first few checks in a few minutes.

I walked to Collegetown Bagels (the downtown branch), ordered a bagel and tea. It was the first time I payed less than three dollars for two items at a restaurant. I sat down and read James Joyce for the first time. I saw my landlord, out of context, for the first time. I walked home.

I went to my second class. It was the first time I have been in Ives hall. It was my first time in History of Architecture and the first time I was equally intimidated by the professor and the syllabus. It was also the first time I was relieved to break into small groups and my first time interacting with a TA who is twice my age.

I walked home, exhaled for the first time, took off my pack and walked down to Ithaca Coffee Co. for my first beer tasting. I tried two new beers for the first time, lusted over the various gourmet goods in the store, and walked home. That is my day of firsts.


By the way, I had mentioned Ithaca Coffee Co. and I believe, the fact that they do beer tastings every Thursday afternoon/evening. What I didn't mention, because I did not know until today, is that the beer tastings are free. As if I needed any more reason to love this little corner coffee shop.

It is also worth noting that today was the first day of class for some other 20,000 odd students. Things are definitely much more lively on campus and reading, while walking, is no longer a safe or worthwhile activity. Indeed, I think I would get through more pages if I doubled the slow pace needed to read while walking, then read upon my arrival.

Weather in Ithaca continues to be warm with partly cloudy skies. The summer break is at an end but the season holds out for a few more days, so the weather man suggests. Across Libe Slope battle lines are drawn somewhere up in the troposphere in a plane parallel to the surface. Bodies are scattered about the grass, casualties of the solar artillery.

GTBKI: Collegetown

Ithaca is a college town; this weekend was move-in time and while I was in California the population of Ithaca nearly doubled. Aware of this, a collection savvy real estate moguls, city planners and town commissioners must have decided to name the city's second commercial center nothing other than "Collegetown." Perhaps it was an intentional move towards the explicit, the declarative, in a defiant stance against the implicit or implied. "You are here" is a dangerously subversive statement in that way. However, the more likely story lies in the impetus of the creatively impotent.

Whatever its origin. Collegetown exists, just south of Cornell's campus, as a place to concentrate the liqour marts and cheap eateries a college town requires. After all, the stereotypical university student needs to be able to purchase large quantities of the cheapest beer available and then find food at obscene hours of the night to satisfy cravings induced by consuming such large quantities of cheap beer. Indeed, it is highly recommended that you utilize some sort of mental inhibitors before attempting to dine at these establishments.

It is sadly utilitarian.

Today I was walking through, admiring the surge in population, when I was nearly flattened by a delivery man with thirteen cases of Keystone Light. I couldn't suffer a sip of that sad brew and was floored to think there is enough of a demand to merit thirteen cases, all for a store the size of my studio apartment!

As my mind raced to think of situations where I might be tempted to drink such a beverage I nearly tripped on a man delivering a keg to the establishment next door.

It is fun to paint such a bleak picture but to be fair, there are a few gems such as Collegetown Bagels and Chip'N'Dale Laundry that make the hike worthwhile.

Anyways, now you better know Ithaca!

Back to the Future

Friends! Great news: I made it back to Ithaca. And it only took about 26 hours of travel by car, plane, taxi and bus!

For all of those unaware that I was in any danger of not returning to my new home, I spent the weekend in California and I must say, despite the high ratio of travel time to down time, it was worth it. Congratulations Tanner and Heather!

While out west, I also got a tour of Loma Linda, where Kari will be spending the next four years, which was nice in that now I can have a few points of reference for when she attempts to convey her life to me through the phone.

Last night was rough, as I knew it would be from my lack of sleep, but today I stepped outside to realize the sun is still shining. I picked up my ID card this morning and headed over to a giant tent set up in the arts quad for the architectural graduate studies orientation. This consisted of 10-minute speeches by the new dean, the chair of arch. graduate programs, and the heads of each individual program (M.Arch I, M.Arch II, MaPhd). The chair gave an inspiring lecture he started with an anecdote about the tour guides for new undergraduate students encouraging them, despite their new Ivy League surroundings, to just be themselves and ended with giving us the exact opposite advice: "Do not just be yourself... it is not enough. Be more."

Despite the pragmatic advice that our established personas, cultivated over the past 20+ years, were not good enough for Cornell grad school, we were offered no other clues on how to survive the program. Particularly discouraging was the lack of instruction for this next week; the speeches ended and we were turned loose until 4pm where we have a graduate student reception at a house the department owns actually two blocks up from me. Which is where I am headed right now!

PS- I often try to have multiple meanings in my titles. I don't know... maybe I like the intrigue (Drew you were right about me). Anyways this one is not even accessible without a explanation. "Back to the Future" works in three ways:
1. Today I returned to my career goals, my future
2. New York is 3 hours ahead of California, though we live concurrently, I in in some ways, live in your future.
3. One of the speakers today was Christopher Loyd's doppelganger and even possessed some of Doc Brown's mannerisms

Airport woes

This is a poem I composed yesterday to take my mind off the stresses of air travel and the unfortunate luck I seem to have with it.


"Flight 3855"

Arrivals left, Departures right
Please o please,
Let me make this flight
At the check in stand
A kindly fellow Lends his hand
“Plane is late but in the air”
Fillipantly,
“You have not a care.”
Still I know from experience,
Monotony,
Evanescent ebullience.
It doesn’t matter much
These three days,
Will serve my crutch.
Queue at the security line
Shoeless wonder
The floors I shine
This routine a bore
The loudspeaker screeches
“Half an hour, not a minute more”
Arrivals left, Departures right
Please o please,
Let me make this flight
What’s that you say?
The plane is just now
On its way?
That simply cannot be,
I cant believe
That man lied to me.
Luckily I planned ahead
"Three hour layover,"
My ticket said.
However others are
Less fortunate and
One lady calls a car.
Left waiting with me
Is a sort of Traveling coterie:
Minneapolis, Seattle, Chicago.
To our destinations
We must go!
Still no plane and we
Are getting restless
Can’t you see?
Our windows are getting thin
Please o please
Just let us in!
At long last the plane touches down
The man outside Wears a frown.
“Within minutes” is the latest of
empty promises
cries erupting “For the love!”
“Ladies and gentlemen it appears
a mechanical issue with some gears.”
It is spoken,
"There is no need to worry"
The mechanic they have woken!
Clocks ticking, nails I bite
Please o please,
Let me make this flight!

The shuttle bumps along
2am check-in
Clerk stifles a yawn
A tired hotel does its best
Welcome to Detroit
Try to get some rest.

I am a weary traveler
And have only
Precious moments
To spend with her

How to do Laundry (In Ithaca)

Before commencing, one must first decide the appropriate time for conducting such an activity. But how do you know what is the appropriate time? I like to subject myself to a series of questions and if, when all subsequent answers are true, I know that the time has come.

“John’s list of inquiries used to deduce the arrival of Laundry Day”

1. Is there a sufficient block of time in my day that I can spend reading, neurotically awaiting the end of wash/rinse/dry cycles? ( Y / N )
2. Do you have a book to read? ( Y / N ) <- This one is always answered in the affirmative but having just established these criterion yesterday, I thought I would wait another week before updating to the newest version (John’s list.. 2.0!)
3. Are you willing to make the pecuniary sacrifice to a system whose only yield is a few weeks of fresh smelling garments? ( Y / N )
4. Is there any one item of clothing of which, is only to be found in my dirty clothes hamper? ( Y / N )
5. Is there any one item of clothing of which, is only to be found in my hamper, on my floor, draped across the furniture? ( Y / N )
6. Is the one depleted drawer that belonging to underwear? ( Y / N )
7. Is the weather conductive to spending an hour and a half trapped in a room with dozens of heat emitting machines? ( Y / N )
8. Finally, are you currently of enough psychological and emotional stability to deal with the spiritual vicissitudes and crazy characters associated with public Laundromats? ( Y / N )

Now these are only the preliminary steps. To actual complete this task in my new environs, a whole separate list is needed.

“How to do laundry (in Ithaca)”

First I need to pack a pack: book, quarters, and detergent are the essentials. Ipod, snack, and water are highly suggested. Then I must don my pack, shoulder my sack, and head out the front door. From there I head up to the intersection, turn left and walk up two blocks, turn right, walk up one block, take a breather, drink some water, look down at the hill I just climbed, look up at the hill I still have to climb, wipe the sweat from my brow and press on. Once I get to the top of the hill I have two purveyors of promises for clean clothes: “Suds N Duds” and “Chip & Dale Laundromat.” I am covered in sweat (see below for a detail of far I must travel).

In defense of my physique, 50% of this walk is at a 50% incline.

I inevitably choose Chip & Dales because (a) I loved those chipmunks, (b) it makes anyone who has had a cursory glance at the Las Vegas strip giggle, and (c) I know what the “Suds” are referring to but as to the “Duds” I am at a complete loss.

Once inside I secure two washers and feed the gluttonous machines my laundry and sixteen quarters! $2 per load. While waiting an unknown time (none of the machines are equipped with any teller of time, digital or analog) I find a chair and try unsuccessfully to cultivate a look that is both blasé and casually critical. It is an unsuccessful attempt because it ends up painfully obvious; this is my first time in a Laundromat.

When the wash finishes I move the contents of both machines into one industrial sized dryer. I can’t remember ever being of an age where it would be possible for me fit into a dryer and yet, here was such a monster. After the shock wore off I realized that there was no indicated monetary investment for these machines. Apparently it is left open to the preference and frugality of the individual. I decided to experiment and here are the results.

2 quarters = 16 minutes

1 more quarter = 11 additional minutes

1 more quarter = 7 additional minutes

One of the machines looks a bit… singed and I can only assume it was some poor physics student who probably made an excel spreadsheet of the various inputs and outputs of the machine, graphed the results, and in anger at the mountainous curve made a small explosive in a Cornell laboratory, placed it into the dryer, lit the fuse, turned the dial to delicates, and pressed ON.

GTBKI: Ithaca Coffee Co.

If I walk out my door, down the stairs to the street, turn right and walk for about four minutes (at some point crossing the street) I will have arrived at a new set of buildings called the Gateway Commons. Housed in the eastern tower is a small coffee shop that also specializes in gourmet food (olive oils, chocolates, teas, etc.).

Our second day in Ithaca we visited this spot and as I ordered my latte my dad explored around back. A few seconds later I hear him laugh and as he is returning to order, he tells me to go back there and take a look. The coffee shop is in front and towards the back is a smaller area with a bar, a couple of tables, and shelves full of every tea or coffee accessory imaginable. In between these two areas, is a hallway that turns to the right and leads to this area, hidden behind the bar.



Ithaca is a special place.

What I am doing these days

Friends, things just got krazy outside. It was a rather average, hot and humid morning (see below) with perhaps a few more clouds in the sky than normal, but nothing to worry about if you are from Southern California. However, about half an hour after returning to the apartment, thunder broke the silence and within minutes it was POURING. In the last half hour, it has rained more on my apartment than in all of San Diego last year.

Really I shouldn't be surprised, my Google homepage has been telling me that thunderstorms were coming today. But Google also told me that thunderstorms were to be expected everyday for the past week. It is just the magnitude of the the rain and frequency of the flashes that is shocking.

Anyways I thought I would shed some light on my work environment today.



This is the second floor of Rand Hall, where the architecture studios are housed. It is a warehouse like building with an industrial aesthetic, subdivided into classes (social strata? we'll see) by cubicle-like dividers that drawings can be "pinned up" on. We have camped for the time being, in the largest section, the first-year undergraduate area. (Judging by the relative sizes of the higher classes, there must be some sort of record rate attrition in the program)


And this is my desk!!!! And the black device straddling my drawing board, is the infamous Parallel Rule. Also of note, for those with expensive taste, is the 44 dollars worth of lead (in the blue cases) and $47 compass (to left). In defense of the cost of these items, the lead is 2mm, about 4x as thick as mech. pencil lead, and the compass is all metal, works upside down and in zero gravity.


And this is my first floor plan! Very exciting stuff. This is what kept us all late yesterday. One guy stayed until 10pm! Anyways, the torrent has subsided outside and I think I am going to go down to Ithaca Coffee.

Furniture, a Household Oligarchy

Today I did not leave the studio until half past four. We worked on our first floor plan today and as it was a three story building and we were doing all of the lines by hand, it was quite a project. I was actually the first to finish but that only makes me worry. In any case, I trudged home in this oppressive weather and went strait to my floor... serenity.


We all have those little peculiarities that constitute our characters. More often than not, they are such an intrinsic part of our being that it takes someone else to point them out. For instance, I was unaware that lying on the floor was something I did habitually until Joe referenced that in a recent comment.

Well maybe I knew that, but I didn't think it an odd thing to do. For one thing, it is a lot cooler down there and for another, it is (almost) completely unrestricted, the restricting boundaries long out of reach of your extremest extremities. In fact, the one restriction on your being is the plane that forms the surface, which is reassuring really and has the added bonus of promoting Edwin Abbot type fantasies. Lastly, it is something that I did as a child and have never quite grown out of.

Anyways, I thought I would dedicate a blog post to my rug as it has been a small but significant part of my daily routine. Without fail, I will come home and before I turning lights on, I will lie down on the rug. Mostly to stop sweating, but also to recollect myself.

For this reason I am quite obsessive over the well being of my rug. When I have shoes on, I walk around the rug. I have a large lint roller that I use for the exclusive purpose of cleaning it. Last night I opted to eat my snack on the futon, rather than risk getting crumbs on the rug. I would consider fencing it off but that eliminates the infinite boundary conditions that I so adore with the added side effect of it interfering with company. It is not so much that it would get in the way, just that I don't know who would want to be friends with someone who kept an adult playpen.