Three-hour nights and three great meals

So, after saying "screw it, I'm going to see Farnsworth House" all day saturday, it was inevitable that something else had to give. Sleep was the obvious candidate. In a day of 24 hours, any element that takes up more than six of them is going to be the elephant in the room. So, sunday night, monday night, and tuesday night, I averaged three hours of sleep each night.

The first day was terrible, the second not so bad, the third was simply surreal. One feels slightly loopy and a little drunk. There is a history of sleep deprivation- the Russians discovered its use as a means to break the will and mind in torturing political prisoners- the US government has picked up where the Russians left off. It's convenient that it can't be photographed and leaves no physical marks. I've read that certain artists use it as a means of working, the hallucinogenic properties in particular.

Anyway, the reason for all this was that we had a pin-up review wednesday with Francis Kere, the architect from Burkina Faso. This pin up (perhaps because I was stoned from lack of sleep) felt like the most productive day we've spent in studio, at least in terms of advancing and understanding our ideas. Kere loved all the projects, he wasn't really critical of any of them. However, the discussions we got into over each project raised questions of community focus, financing, etc. that many of us had simply never considered. However, given the length of the discussions, he was only able to review five student's work before leaving to prepare for his lecture that night.

The rest of the review session was essentially a student critique. DH gave us some criticism and then the floor was opened up to the rest of the studio. It's really the first time we've had a chance to see each others work where it is now, and to comment on it. Anyway. The comment's I received were a mixed bag, but overall very positive. The gist was essentially, "this project is too good for you to be allowed to screw it up."

Anyway, I slept really well wednesday night. I don't even remember anything about how I got home or what I did that night. Thursday night, Chuck, Allison and I went to get some Mexican food at the taqueria in the old taco bell northwest of campus, out off of Page road. Tinga chimichangas and jamaica. Good, sleepy Mexican food.

Friday night, after happy hour, I got roped into taking a second, smaller group of prospective students to dinner at Bar Italia. There were about eight students who couldn't make the main open house, so a condensed version was being offered, which included a dinner (and the requisite toasts) from the president of the architecture school as well as another distinguished faculty member (who has a tendency to name-drop, although he might be forgiven for actually delivering these people to the school).

Dinner was excellent. We got a private room, appetizers of cheese plates, olives, etc. Small salads with more olives, and our choice of entree. I went with the grilled salmon with polenta. Actually, what really got me into this gig was the chance to dine at the rather pricy Bar Italia. Quite good. I was disappointed to get chocolate mousse instead of tiramisu for dessert, but considering I paid nothing, I couldn't complain. I sat between a young and eager Florida student who I will probably see in the fall, and a young woman from Saudi Arabia and we talked about the differences between the architecture school culture of Saudi and the US. While they skate by on 45 cents a gallon gas, the students also face astronomical plotting costs at school, at least five times what we're paying over here. So, it was a sacrafice of a friday night, but it wasn't like I had a party to go to.

Today was sunny and muggy. I was totally unprepared. I still have my snow boots ready by the door. Yesterday was beautiful. Today was muggy and warm. Warm is nice. Sun is nice, muggy not so much. Don't we get a spring? Or is spring what you call the violent shifts between summer and winter in the midwest? Either way, after a productive morning of work, I succumbed to the beautiful lazy spring day and went for a walk in forest park to photograph the flowering landscape. Tons of people out and about, capitalizing on the warm weather and beautiful scenery. All the couples walking around holding hands, or laying side by side on the grass together really made me miss Saori. We're missing each others' spring.

My Vietnamese friend Hiep, who is, incidentally, one of the funniest people I know, had invited Chuck and I out for dinner for some Thai, but we joined our group with a group of other friends, including Dew, two other Chinese students and a Korean guy I don't really know, and we went out for all you can eat Korean BBQ. We went to place Seoul Garden out by the airport (why is the good ethnic food by the airport?). We pushed together a few tables and they basically filled with several hundred small dishes of traditional Korean fare, mostly pickled vegitables, kimchee, dried fish, beans, tofu, etc. and also never-ending bowls of rice. Then came the grills and the plates of thin-sliced meat. Our two tables must have gone through at least a dozen plates. Bulgogi, pork, marinated chicken, thin sliced beef. Really good. We got ourselves totally stuffed.

It was kind of amusing to find myself, once again, in a very international community. We had a large percentage of asia present: Japan, Vietnam, northern Chinese, southern Chinese, and Korea. Hiep asked me if I was oriented towards Asians and I was kind of stuck on an answer. I've never considered myself remotely Asian- I appreicate a lot of aspects of Asian culture, and a lot of my friends are asian, but I don't mimic Asian fashion, I don't do cosplay. I do drink a lot of tea, however. And really, most of my friends are more international in comparison with what would be considered straight-up American. I don't really know how to explain it.

On the one hand, seeing a culture and context with different eyes is incredibly liberating creatively and intellectually. I experience the world more fully when I'm traveling. There's also something vulnerable about international students that makes them very easy to befriend. They're also very open to new experiences and new ways of thinking (it's starting to sound like I'm starting a cult, actually) but there's also so much help I can do for them with so little effort on my part. I was and still am so touched by the kindness of strangers while traveling, both here and abroad, that I feel like I am in debt to the rest of the world.