Enter Brisvegas

Another state, another city, a chance to see another side of Australia. Now I had heard that Queenslanders were ‘mad as snakes’ but I didn’t really get that impression at all. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have even found that many flaws if locals didn’t point them out to me. Of course there are a number of obvious maladies inherent to the river city, but then Sydney and Melbourne are not without their trip-ups as well.

The world expo visited Brisbane in 1988, my birth year, and as far as history is concerned, it was one of the best things to ever happen to the city. No given, I had no clue that this ever took place until someone in Brisbane enlightened me, but obviously somebody was paying attention because it brought visitors from all over the world to the state capitol of Queensland. The city blossomed and development followed in its wake. However, one negative souvenir it left the city with was a giant phallic structure that lights up every night with a Technicolor collar and a set of four searchlights that continuously scan the night sky for God only knows. The world expo council meant this carnival monstrosity to be a gift, but in my opinion it only remains as a blemish on an otherwise beautiful cityscape. Many have tried to remove it over the years, but to no avail. The Sky Needle, as it is called, stands in all its post-modernist glory for people to cock their heads sideways at still today.

The name ‘Brisvegas’ was coined by Virgin Blue airlines as a marketing ploy a while ago, but the name stuck, and people all over Australia will refer to the city by this pet name. In a city of cheap and speedy development along with an immigration rate of about 1000 people every 2 weeks, perhaps the name is relevant. Politics is a joke and organization seems amiss, but most of these accusations are not my own. A local architect named Timothy Hill of architecture firm Donovan Hill describes his hometown in this manner. So that’s my quick and dirty on the Bris. More adventures to follow!

FOOTY!

It’s Saturday the 25^th of July and I’m going to my first ever Australian Rules Football Match! The sport of footy is near and dear to the hearts of Melbourne’s inhabitants. No other city in Australia celebrates the game as much as them. Each neighborhood has its own team and fierce rivalries are fought to decide which neighborhood will rein supreme. However, they all happen to have completely ridiculous fight songs. Just to give you a taste, take the team we were rooting for, St. Kilda. Can you guess how their fight song goes? Well if you guessed a defunct version of When The Saints Go Marching In except with “Oh how I want to be in that number” switched to “Oh how I want to be in St. Kilda” then you would be spot on. But enough about heir musical inaptitude; this is a sporting event, not a orchestral production, and thankfully the action on the pitch that follows the musical introductions more than makes up for their inadequacy.

Allow me to attempt to explain the game in a concise manner:

Start with an oval pitch a little bigger than an American Football field and place 4 tall white poles at both ends. The middle two poles of each set should be about 50% taller than the outside poles, this delineates the two types of point scoring opportunities. 6 points for a ball punted through the inner poles and 1 for a ball through the outer set. Game play rarely stops except when a major pile-up has stalled movement of the ball. Passing can be done in the form of a tossed lateral, a punched forward ball, or a punted ball. If a player catches a punted ball, no matter whose foot it came off of, this is called a mark. The player then has the option to stop and set up his next move, or continue play and forfeit this privilege. Until the player forfeits his ability set up a shot/pass by running several meters away from the point where he caught the mark, the opposing team cannot interfere with his set shot/pass.

How many people have I completely lost by now? Well the game lasts for four 20-minute quarters and ending scores generally fall into the 50 – 150 range. Simple enough right! Well you get the hang of it pretty quickly when you watch it being played. I’m a fan. I think I’ll have to get some games going back on campus when I return. Oh, and one more thing; one of the famous architects we met, Sean Godsell, used to play professional footy for St. Kilda! How cool is that! Oh . . . I sure do like this place.

Office in the Clouds

After having a city tour on Monday July 20^th, Tuesday rolls around and it’s time to visit the office I’ll be working in later this year. Excited and a bit nervous I push in through the large revolving door at the base of Melbourne Central Tower. A posh stone and stainless steel lobby welcomes us on the other side and we’re directed to take two elevators up to arrive at Design Inc’s reception area. The firm inhabits the top two floors in one of Melbourne’s tallest buildings. The space was actually deemed unleasable due to the shape created by inward slanted curtain walls. It was being used as mechanical and maintenance space before Design Inc seized the opportunity to take advantage of such prime real estate.

As you may be able to imagine due to my build up, we were greeted by an expansive view out across Melbourne once the elevator doors slid open on level 51. John MacDonald, a director of the firm, is waiting for us at the front desk and produces a smile as Michael and I shake his hand. I had organized for us to have this opportunity and I was fully engaged in making a good first impression on one of my future bosses.

John led us around the office briefly pointing out a couple of projects in the works. All the while the whole group was trying to take it all in and figure out how the hell I’d landed a position here; I was baffled myself.

We marched back upstairs from whence we had come and situated ourselves around a large conference table to be briefed on a couple of local wonders Design Inc had produced in recent years. First up was the K2 Sustainable Housing complex. An amazing public housing project that shames anything you would find in the US that fits the same category. This was followed by CH2 (Council House 2), which is an expansion for the original Council House in Melbourne. It was the first building in Oz to achieve their highest sustainability award and continues to inspire new projects to outdo it.

We had a tour of CH2 later that day and the tour guide voiced his hope that one day people will scoff at CH2 as a primitive work of sustainability. It ‘s interesting having so many of these sustainable projects funded by the government. By having the government lead the way, the move towards a sustainable future is seemingly forced onto private organizations to keep up. Our tour guide actually pointed out that many corporations had already approached them about the building so that they might incorporate the same kind of systems into their own buildings.

Such great work, and yet John was so humble about it all. That’s actually been a reoccurring theme that I’ve noticed about the Australian architects we have met. Their egos aren’t enormous ballooning behemoths! It’s quite refreshing. Unfortunately, since visiting the office and being awestruck I’ve become a bit unhappy to find that they will not be paying me as an intern but rather awarding me a small bonus at the end of my term. Money’s not everything, but I need to eat!

Time to Catch Up!

So once again I’ve gone and left a large gap in time without reporting on anything. I would try to play the card of ‘well I’ve just been busy’ but it seems such a tired and empty excuse that I’ll just cut to the chase and admit laziness. Can you really blame me though? I’ve been in a tropical paradise for the past 5 days! I’ll write more on that later; I have a lot of ground to cover before I can speak to these past 5 days.

Right so where did I leave off . . . oh right, Melbourne! What a city! I have to say, and I think the rest of the students will support this feeling, the architecture is a bit . . . well . . . striking at first. Post-modernism hit hard here and still seems to be lingering around, but I suppose that’s part of the culture of Melbourne. There’s a bit of a competition between Sydney and Melbourne to be regarded as the best city in Oz. Sydney’s got the views and the icons, Melbourne has the well developed cultural and art scene ingrained in it’s very essence.

Busing to our hostel from the airport one of the first views I was addressed with was a blinding golden cap atop the tallest building in Melbourne, Eureka Tower. Fun little fact about that: the gold cap I speak of is actually pure gold worked into the windows of the premium penthouse apartments that sell at a price higher than I will allow myself to utter. So I should have premeditated the series of bold architectural moves that lay in wait for me. The competition with Sydney may have been the cause for some of this flashy stuff since Melbourne has been attempting to create an iconic building of its own to rival the Sydney Opera House for a while now. Anyways, that should set the scene for the next couple entries to follow.

Air Traffic Control

First of all let me shed some light on my defunct state of mind in regards to travel; I don’t mean to lead one to believe that there’s anything wrong with the way in which I mentally address changes in location, but merely give a brief insight into my train of thought, or rather lack thereof in this case. I have a tendency not to perceive change until well after it has occurred; this relates directly to the manner in which I respond to travel as it fits within the realm of change, at least geographically if not also culturally. This being said, I am conscious of impending change and fully present in the moment in which said change commences.

The defunct nature to which I have previously made reference comes into play through my mental perception of change. Though I am aware of the transition, no emotions are directly tied to the alteration in my physical or situational alteration. What herein follows is a disjointed reality in which the experiences that I participate in occur in an entirely different environment to what I have come accustomed to, but my mind hasn’t quite come along for the ride. A rather otherworldly state is therefore created to compensate for my mental retardation. I’m not completely certain how much good this description does for the reader, but I hoped that it may help one embody the following events through a similar lens as I had harnessed when experiencing them.

Flight has always been an enjoyable occasion for me, even when the situation may tend to inform against such optimistic outlooks. As such, I checked in, passed through security and boarded the Boeing 737 to Melbourne in a completely relaxed state. We left the ground on time and without a single hiccup. The Australian coastline smiled back at me as I gazed upon it from my window seat and soon after the cheerful stewardesses supplied me with a delicious carrot cake accompanied by a bottle of juice. Even for those who find air travel unfavorable, this would have had to rank as a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

Of course, it was too good to be true. The child sitting in the row behind us grew restless and let out a scream to wake me from my peaceful slumber that I had drifted into. Dannielle was seated beside me, directly in front of the child, and apparently her seat wished to be reclined at all times, regardless of her desires. Perhaps the chair was aware of the child’s antsy state and wished to serve as an accomplice to his experimentation in the trying our patience for the child quickly transformed the back of Dannielle’s chair into a springboard for propelling himself off of his own seat. Apparently the child was also in training to become a puppeteer as he paraded a miniature representation of Ronald McDonald across the top of Dannielle’s head.

Amazingly Dannielle had no negative reaction to the child hijacking her comfortable seat and expropriating her skull; I commend her self-restraint. This foray does not end there though; as we began to descend toward Melbourne the child, or rather annoyance filled sack of skin, found it imperative to let everyone know of the pressure differential occurring in his auditory center, or as he put it over and over again, “Mommy my ears are popping, mommy my ears are popping, etc.”

Now I realize that the subject in question is a child, actually an infant, and cannot be expected to understand issues of physics and anatomy in relation to varying dimensions of altitude, but I have never come across an individual with such an elongated period of auditory pressure equalization (ear popping). We landed, taxied to the gate, unloaded, picked up our baggage, and he was still reiterating his original statement. However, there was a brighter side to all of this as Dannielle pointed out to me; close encounters with unruly infants operate as a free and easy form of birth control for all those within earshot.

Cockatoo Island [July 9th After the Barbie]

Cockatoo Island was Australia's version of Alcatraz way back in the day, but it has also been used heavily for ship making in the past. Now, it hosts the Australian Biennale and is open to the public, but many of the structures from it's long history are still present.

Manly Beach [July 11th Before DRAG!]

This friendly fella came right up to me and asked for a piece of my bread, so I gave him some.

Sunset at Manly Lagoon

Work Week

Most of this past week has been filled with studio work. We have all been preparing our projects for our 'final' critique that we had on Thursday. I place final in quotes because we're not anywhere near done with the progression of our projects. After all, we only had three weeks to work on them. A large amount of development is still needed before any of us can claim to have a finished product.

The crit was great though. Some of us got better responses from the jurors than others, but all of us received valuable feedback. We were hosted at Richard Goodwin's studio for the event and you'll all have to google his work because it's something else. Trained as an architect, considered one of Australia's greatest artists, he has a marvelous mind. Deconstructed/exploded models of vehicles litter the shelves what used to be a meatpacking plant. The original sheet metal interior wall cladding and industrial sized drains remain, but the meathooks have been removed. However, the space holds no feelings of it's former life. Richard has adorned almost every surface with is work including a full scale motorcycle blown apart and held in a static state as if frozen in the midst of an explosion. I think we were all a little awestruck and humbled by the whole experience.

Of course Richard was only one of our jurors. Stefan Lehman, Janet Laurence, Nick Seemann, and Naomi Shediezki were also in attendance. I know most, if not all of these names will be alien to you, but believe me, they are all masters in there fields (art & architecture). If nothing else the networking opportunities alone merit the value of this trip. Then again, it's so much more than that, and it's all a bit surreal.

DRAG!

Saturday night (July 11^th) and I find myself at the Sydney Opera House to see my first ever drag show. Though there are two other male students on this trip, neither of them felt like attending this function for whatever reasons. So it is that I stand beside Carmen, Jenna, Dannielle, and Jenny with beverage in hand as I scan the crowd waiting for the theater doors to open. We have come for the opening gala and through my skills of observation I would venture to say that I was one out of maybe ten straight men present.

As a member of society never before exposed to drag shows, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect other then some men dressed up in women’s closing. Let me tell you, it sure is more than that. Now given, this was at the Sydney Opera House and they explained that they had scoured Sydney for the cream of the crop, as far as drag shows go, so this was meant to be the tip-top of the drag show spectrum. In a word . . . FABULOUS! Just a side note, the dress attire requested for this show was, and I kid you not, glitter.

It really does mess with your mind from time to time when some of the performers mount that stage in their glamerous costumes and you think to yourself, “Boy, that gal has some pretty well defined muscles . . . hey wait a minute, that’s a MAN . . . why do I find him attractive . . . Oh gosh, am I gay?” And so it is that the drag show is meant to mess with your mind, and it does . . . a lot. However, in between such acts of confusion there sprinklings of pure hilarity in the form of what I will term ‘Over Drag’ meaning simply an over-the-top form of drag in which the performers are not dressing up as a seductive figure but rather a grotesque and poor excuse for a female. ‘Over Drag’ comes in many forms: trashy, old, obese, circus clown-esque, and just down right ugly. Whichever form it takes, it’s awesomely laughter inducing and also provides a period of time for your mind to recover between gender bending confusion.

Overall, I must say DRAG! gets two big thumbs up from me. I can’t wait to go to another. Certain songs like “My Milkshakes Bring All the Boys to the Yard” will never be the same for me, but I believe they’ve been upgraded in that sense. And hey, all the girls I went with gave me mad props for enduring the experience with such frivolity.

Throw that Gourmet Food on the Barbie!

So speeding up through last week (there was a lot of this and that, and to tell the truth I can’t remember it all so I’ll skip to the good parts) Thursday the 9^th was just another school day like any other . . . oh wait, let me rephrase that, it was another amazing experience that we were gifted with exclusively as students of Adrian Parr & Michael Zaretsky! I’m not sure if I’ve covered this well enough yet, but our professors have the tightest connections here in Australia. Of course, this somewhat stems from the fact that Adrian’s father and Aunt are both well know contemporary artists living in Sydney; and since she grew up, studied, and taught in Sydney and Melbourne, the ties run deep.

Regressing back from my point of departure, Brian Zulaikha of TZG architects and his wife Janey Laurence, invited the team over to marvel at their contemporary home and participate in our first ever Ausi Barbie! Now let me first point out that the act of BBQing in Australia is a much-loved pastime centered on togetherness and community. However, unlike I was expecting, it apparently doesn’t have to have much of anything to do with actually grilling anything. Our meal consisted of a fine assortment of cheeses, breads, spreads, vegetables, sashimi, and cooked fish. Not at all what I had imagined going into this, but what a mouthwatering platter of delicious delicacies it ended up being. Oh . . . I’m salivating just reminiscing about it . . . give me a second . . . mmmmmmmmm, soooooo good!

Right, getting back to the topic; Tim Greer (another partner at TZG Architects) and his wife, Lilly, were also in attendance at the shindig and provided some great conversation as we milled about the house in amazement. Yes, that’s right, we were still in architecture mode during throughout our time at Brian’s house, but this isn’t just any regular house either. The domicile I speak of has been featured in Dwell Magazine as well as Architecture Bulletin and possibly many more that I have not yet come across. It is internationally revered as a significant piece of contemporary residential architecture. Heated slabs, squeaky clean detailing, sliding everything, and a gorgeous harbor view to boot; this place has it going on. It may just be the architects that we’ve had the pleasure of meeting thus far, but I’ve found an infatuation with all things sliding here. Kind of like how all the animals here are inclined to hop (I’ve seen birds hopping here, yeah, CRAZY).

Anyways, I won’t bog you down with the architectural terminology that goes along with my interactions in Brian’s house, so just suffice it to say . . . SWEETNESS!

Valley Views

Faces Reminiscing on Places

The practice of Aboriginal face and body painting was shared with some of us during our walkabout through the bush. Though certain symbols were used originally to tell a story with each work of body art (as well as other forms of art) the designs we sported stemmed only from visual aesthetic. Having said that, it's astonishing how much more noticeable you become when walking around populated areas with these masterpieces blazed across your face. I cannot count the number of times that I induced feverish double takes. I seem to have been regarded as a tourist destination to a group of Asian travelers at our mountain hostel as well. Just a side note, these paints were all originally made using natural colors from the earth (charcoals, clays, and sandstones). I'd urge you to have a go at it and have a trek through your local mall . . . it's just interesting to see peoples reactions.

A Natural Sensibility

Let me first note that I am slightly behind on these blog entries and as such have some ground to make up. The following encounter occurred last week on Friday the 3rd.

The group shuffled onto the 8:30 to Lithgow and plopped into rows of soft leather seats on the upper deck. Some of us slept, others read, but none of us were in the same mindset that we would be later that day. An hour and a half later, coats were zipped up and hands shoved in pockets as the warmth of the train was traded for the nippy mountain air at Faulconbridge Station. Escaping the confines of the station, our Aboriginal tour guide, Evan, met us and sat us down for a talk. He was quick to explain one of the first questions entering our minds, his skin color.

Up to this point we had viewed historical pictures and read literature of dark skinned Aboriginals, but before us sat a man with skin as fair as an average caucasian. Apparently, the last dark skinned Aboriginals in the Sydney area passed away about 30 years ago, the remaining members of the local Darug Aboriginal community are of mixed blood, but the cultural traditions continue.

Evan instructed us to be weary of our footsteps, to 'tread lightly' as the earth is a living thing to. Jumping on another persons back may break their ribs, so too do the Aborigines feel you may harm the earth if you don't regard it as a living breathing entity. He warned us that the practices that he would ask us to entertain may seem odd or make us uncomfortable, but this all comes with understanding cultural differences. To get the most out of our Aboriginal walk we were to open our minds and ensconce ourselves in the environment and atmosphere of the Aboriginal song line that we would be hiking.

Climbing to our feet, we followed Evan into the bush under a shroud of silence. In line, one-by-one we snaked along the thin footpath that led us to our first stopping point. Crowding into a shallow cave Evan instructed us to take the eucalyptus leaves that we had plucked from a tree along the way and 'crush them up' to release their fragrance. Then we were to split the leaf in twain and roll the two halves up so that they fit up our nostrils. Obviously not something we were used to, but an act we all followed without question anyways. Evan explained that the oils from the eucalyptus leaves were a natural antioxidant and had been used by Aborigines for generations as a form of simple bush medicine. I have to say, the practice grew on me and I found myself showing eucalyptus leaves up my nose on my following hiking journeys.

After we had all breathed in the healing oils of the eucalyptus, Evan explained to us the way in which his people experienced the world around them. He mentioned the turn of phrase 'come to your senses' and explained that his people embodied this saying in the original, more literal meaning of it. To actually come to, or be with, your senses; completely alert and attentive to our environment through all of our 5 senses. To this end, Evan encouraged us to participate in what he termed a 'touching ritual' in which while walking in the bush one runs their hand along a plant and imagines the plant coursing through their body. This act is meant to only start as imagination and as practiced, be realized as a true feeling. It may not be culturally correct to say this, but I liken it to the placebo effect. If one believes something to be true, then it becomes a reality for the individual. Through this ritual, the mind and body are to be filled with the good energy of the rainbow serpent spirit and an elevated state achieved. In a way, it's as if the plants are sharing their life force with you.

We were told to continually practice this throughout the days hike making sure to concentrate on imagining the the plants passing through us and cleansing us in doing so. I did as I was instructed, and I can't tell for sure, but by the end I was feeling as if touching the plants was inducing a sensation of light heartedness. I wasn't sure if this was the feeling I was meant to be experiencing, but Evan assured me that i was headed in the right direction and prompted me to keep on practicing the ritual.

The path that we hiked was, in the words of the Aborigines, "the song [story] of the place." destinations along the way helped elaborate on the story with carvings in the rock faces of native animals and Aboriginal heros. Each step is meant to be part of this story and each obstacle passed has meaning for being there. Along the way we were taught of various other bush medicines and 'bush tucka' - naturally growing edible plants and berries. Very little is left of ancient Aboriginal culture because their entire relationship to the land was one of symbiotic harmony in which they were provided for by nature and in so doing had no reason to leave any permanent imprints upon it. Nature replenished itself, and as part of nature so to were they kept alive an in good spirits.

The sites were incredible, the lessons were priceless, and the journey was unforgettable. If all we had experienced up to this point was not enough to demand our fascination with Australia, this trip to the Blue Mountains sealed the deal. It's quite easy to understand why many people travel down here and never end up returning home . . . I hope this doesn't scare any of the parents of students on this trip. We love Australia, but then again we still have much to accomplish before we can think about settling down anywhere, much less a foreign country.

Sunset on the Bay

Local Botanical Splendor

The Local Bloods

The Lost & Found Again

There's a certain degree of instability of mental state that tends to follow shortly after realizing that you are utterly and completely lost. However, remain lost for long enough and you may begin to lose yourself in the adventure that you find yourself on. The panic that had seemed at first to be so near, simply fades into nothingness as a sense of discovery takes its place. At this point you are no longer lost, but exploring until you can find yourself again.

Of course, these words aren't purely for the sake of me sharing knowledge; they are the conclusion I found myself arriving at after a weekend of what some might term bad luck, but I like to think of as an opportunity to learn more about this place. Nonetheless, I did, in all conventional terms, get lost multiple times. The first couple were unintentional, but the experience grew on me and I then purposely started wandering off to see what I may find.

To start, I rose early Saturday morning to get a jog in before a tour we had scheduled. I started off down a few familiar streets that I had made a route of before, but feeling particularly spritely I sought to extend my previous route by what I thought was only a couple of blocks. Well a couple of blocks turned into a couple more and before you know it . . . yes, I was lost. Wonderfully I stumbled upon a footbridge overpass that directed me back into Sydney Uni and back into the realm of the know, at least in my internal GPS.

This jogging detour put me a bit behind schedule and inevitably set me up for my second bought with the ways of being lost. After a quick shower, I left the hostel by myself (everyone else was in front of me) and caught the train down to Museum Station as we had been instructed to do. I was a running behind at this point but I still thought I could arrive at the location on time on foot. Here's where I went wrong; I underestimated the distance from the station to the Paddington Reservoir (our tour location) and disregarded the suggestion to catch a bus for this leg of the journey.

So I set off, thankfully in the right direction, and hoped for the best. Soon after, my mind started to dig into that pit of worries and I pulled out my phone to call Gretchen and Jul to inquire as to there position. As I did, the two of them passed by in the bus I was meant to be on and that was the last I saw of any of my classmates. Having been encouraged that I was on the right track from the girls, I trudged on with hastened pace in an attempt to reach the destination on time, but block by block it was obvious that my efforts were not going to deliver the results I was searching for.

Now why I got lost to the extent to which I did must have something to do with my unconcious propelling me into the unknown, because I literally walked right past the Paddington Reservoir and just kept on going. To my benefit, the reservoir is a submerged structure with little at ground level to point out it's existence, at least from across a busy street. Yes, I was on the wrong side of the road . . . my mistake. Anyways, I got the feeling I had passed my destination when the dense Paddington development gave way to 6 lanes of speeding highway traffic. Another call to Jenna kept me thinking that I still had further to go though and so I pushed on. Past Centennial Park, past Bondi Junction and you know, I probably would have kept on going if the road I was supposed to be following hadn't abruptly ended after that.

At this point it was about an hour and a quarter after the tour had started and I had flushed all worry from my mind. In all reality, if you're going to be more than half an hour late to almost anything . . . what's the point. It's not that I wasn't trying to find the place; I did try . . feverishly for about an hour, but as I've stated before, after a while you just seep into a state of relaxation that stems from the loss of care. When you can cast aside those things in your life causing you stress, it doesn't take much to keep you in a state of content. I ended up catching a bus back the way I came and arriving in time for a group photo before everyone dispersed. I'd love to tell you some interesting tid-bits about the Paddington Reservoir after all this, but understandably, our tour guide wasn't too keen on going through it all again for me.

So when it came down to it, my final arrival at the proper location furnished no benefits to my position. This being said, i was now hungry to venture forth into the unknown and see what I might find. Returning from the direction from which I had just come, I veered off into an inviting array of foliage with Dannielle by my side. She was akin to reach the marketplace at Bondi Junction to fulfill her shopping desires so quickly viewing a nearby map we had our general direction set. I escorted her to a corner of what I'd found to be Centennial Park and watched her vanish back into the noise of urbanity. As for myself, I drifted off into the woods and my parkland adventure had begun.

Stopping here and there to marvel at native flora and fauna I lost myself again, but in a state of relaxation instead of panic. I kept sauntering around what seemed like a never-ending sequence of forest and open space until abruptly emerging onto a network of interconnected ponds. Before me lay an image of pure beauty; diverse flocks of birds I'd never seen before gently nestled amongst the landscape. Black swans guiding there baby chicks into the water, a goose of some sort perched on the end of a pier, and not another human in sight. As I stood there, letting it all sink in, I realized that this moment would have not held the same weight if I had know of its existence prior to finding it.

There is an undefinable quality of spontaneity that is vanquished from existence once we begin to order all of our actions into a regimented schedule. I went on to discover much more that day, not returning to the hostel until after nightfall. I realize that there are certain dangers to the practice of getting lost, and I am not implying that such a way of life is safe or fit for everybody. However, the feelings that I maintained while in that state were so powerful that I cannot disregard their existence. I will withhold from urging others to follow in my footsteps, but for those willing to take a chance in the name of adventure; GOOD ON YA!

Learning from Great Minds

After discussions based on critical regionalism with Michael, what it is and how it came to be, the group assembled in one of the lecture theaters for a presentation. Perhaps presentation is too dry a term to describe the experience that we were enveloped by in that room; mind-blowing spectacle of architectural and sociopolitical genius! . . . may be better suited.

Paul Pholeros took our minds on a journey through his impressive body of dealing with detrimental housing conditions for the underprivileged citizens of the world to which many of the luxuries that we take for granted (running water, medical care, etc.) are not available. Most of the communities Paul has helped, live in Aboriginal (native Australians) communities in the expansive desert of Australia's interior. We have been continually reminded of architects here practicing 'architecture with a little a.' What they mean in saying this is that they are not designing flashy look-at-me buildings, but instead, responsibly upholding the values that architect's are tasked with maintaining (public health, safety, & welfare) and allowing the design of said buildings to follow suit. Having explained this turn of phrase, I have also described Paul Pholeros' architectural practice. He cooperatively devised a plan with a partner in medicine that continues to raise the survival rate of Aboriginals all over Australia through simple analysis, maintenance, and small amounts of construction of plumbing systems.

Through a separate project in Nepal, he has turned lives around by building outhouses that also allow for a cooking stove to function off of the methane produced from the waste. This may not seem like much, but it is so inspiring to meet a character of such humble, selfless stature.

I must point out though that Paul stressed the importance in finishing our studies and gaining a lofty amount of practical knowledge in the field before ever attempting to delve into his line of work. I found this a very amicable move since so many young adults could be entranced by these words of humble deeds with plans to immediately embark on their on journey to save the world when in reality, one can do so much more help by taking the time to learn the skills by which they may adequately provide that help.

And so with that we all headed up the street from Sydney Uni to a Vietnamese restaurant where we were joined by our other professor, Adrian Parr, and her artist friends/relatives as well as Brian Zulaikha; a partner at a well known local architecture firm called Tonkin Zulaikha Greer. Our guests were impressed and everyone left filled and happy. This trip continues to pay dividends back to us.

Sydney Opera House

"The sun was unaware of the beauty of it's own light until it saw it reflecting off of the skin of the Sydney Opera House" -Louis Kahn

Walking . . . A Lot

So Tuesday was a day of learning through moving, seeing, and listening. We met our extremely knowledgeable tour guide, Eoghan at the Sydney Customs House by Circular Quay on the bay. There was a lot of information of which I will not get into here, but suffice it to say that though our legs were tired after a good 5 hours of walking, our minds were enlightened. Sydney has a history of conflict between native peoples (Aboriginals), Australian whites, and foreign immigrants and influences from Europe and Asia. This conflict has largely played into the cultural and physical development of Sydney by itself and the nation as a whole. Sydney, being the oldest city in Australia as it was set up by Captain Cook upon arriving from England, is the only Australian city that has been laid out in a more organic European nature. All others employ the American grid system. Throughout it's history, all developed Australian centers have eagerly adopted ideas and forms from other places and then tweaked and manipulated those forms and ideas into uniquely Australian concepts.

After filling our minds with meaningful sociopolitical and architectural knowledge, the group dispersed into smaller groups and went about exploring on our own. Gretchen and Jul went off to find the Apple store in the CBD (Central Business District) as she needed to replace her computer charger after accidentally burning out a convertor earlier. Dannielle and I hopped on a ferry across the bay to the zoo. We didn't visit the zoo, as this was not our intention in taking the ferry, we simply stayed on and enjoyed the sunny excursion across the water while snapping amazing photos along the way. Arriving back in Circular Quay from whence we came, Dannielle was so pleased with our first trip that she felt we must follow it up with another. So, we boarded another ferry that was to take us to the furthest destination available down the Parramatta River. Of course, we paid no head to the time frame of the ferry before embarking and so we found ourselves watching the sun set over the river and returned over two hours later to a city emitting a dazzling display of lights.

Redfern Market & Carraigeworks