AIA testimonial

Good afternoon.

My name is Alec and I am an alcoholic. I am also an architect.

I am proud to say that I have not touched architecture for two weeks.

I would like to point out that, although in the law's eyes, I am not legally an architect, the way I act, the things I do, are very much like a fully licensed architect. Too many like me are denied the treatment they need when the state makes an artificial barrier to try and help the most desperate cases of licensed architects. These are people who are so deep in architecture, many of them are tied to gangs of other licensed architects where they live in a totally consuming and destructive cycle of architecture.

There is, to be honest, little you can do to get these people out of the architecture-poverty cycle.

The fight against architecture is a daily struggle.

Like many creative, curious young people, I tried architecture in high school. Nothing that big, just a class, a summer studio, you know. Lots of my friends and classmates also tried it, and they went on to successful careers in business administration, nursing, or law. I still remember, even back then, it put the hook in me. It was a rush like nothing I'd ever experienced. I had all these feelings of power, of creating worlds. I felt like I could do anything.

I went crazy in college. Even though I was taking classes like sociology and human evolution, I thought, what's the harm in joining a studio or a taking in a lecture on the Walter Gropius on the side. In that kind of environment, I got to know other students who were really into architecture. They showed me tips and techniques for making my designs better, my towers, higher. They introduced me to some really strong stuff. I could barely handle it. 'Post-structuralism', 'deconstructivism', 'Charles Jencks'.

My parents were naturally concerned. I fed them vague lies about my liberal arts degree when really I was spending nearly all my time on architecture. Honestly, I was shot. I'd get wired on caffeine and go on 30-hour architecture binges with my friends. I slept an average of four or five hours a night.  I tried to explain my weight loss away as amphetamine addiction.

As many of you know too well, architecture is an expensive habit. I was blowing through thousands of dollars every year. I was buying wood, matte paper plots, wire. I was so desperate, I bought concrete on the side. We were all lasering. Yeah, it was extra expensive, but you know, it made everything so crisp and wild. At least we were clean- we didn't share blades, thank God.

All my non-architecture friends had fallen by the wayside. Early on, they'd tried to help me, to get me out. But when I spent one entire spring break in the computer lab working on a portfolio, they realized how far gone I was.

I was formally ejected from the University in 2007, and to my shame, I immediately took up the habit full time, not even hindered by the vestiges of education. The six year period between 2007 and 2013 was the darkest of my life. There are blurs of faces, manic energy, depression, sleepless nights, the whirl of suits and ties and glittering conference rooms. I remember getting hooked up with some pretty good stuff in Boston one summer.  I never imagined that I could ever be architecture-free.

Then, in the darkness of winter, a light. I woke up shivering in the darkness, and as my head slowly cleared from the long blizzard of architecture, I realized I was in St. Louis, Missouri of all places. I checked my bank account- almost nothing left. I carefully talked to the landlord of the apartment and realized I was going to have to move. I had reached the end of my ability to fund my architecture habit.

Recovery from so many years of architecture addiction is a hard, long, slow process. I was constantly irritable, restless. My hands itched for a computer mouse. I started hanging around the university looking for bits of modeling supplies. One time, I was so desperate, I picked up a tiny, used stub of a pencil from the snow, and started sketching with it. I was so disgusted with myself, I couldn't believe that I was the same person.

I realized that I needed either professional help or more architecture. I couldn't live any other way. I tried to stay clean, I really did. But in the end, shit, I was broke! I couldn't afford a private clinic and all that! I sold my car, and bought a one way ticket to Mexico.

Mexico! Everyone knows the architecture in the US is pretty mild, adulterated stuff. I mean, sure if you have the time and the money, the Netherlands, Germany, even China these days can roll up some pretty heady drawings. I don't have that kind of money. But Mexico is better- it's harder stuff, more brutalist, and its so loosely regulated, you can get away with anything.

You know, the funny thing, is even in that architecture paradise, I was only halfway in the game. I got hooked on the lifestyle and the food most of all. I was still a junkie, I mean, I still needed my 50 to 70 hours a week, but I found myself spending less time than my University days. I was still in the clutches of Mr. ACAD but I think I'd turned the corner.

At the end of October, after some really deep and long benders (I detailed an entire house and threw up a pavillion), I got out of Mexico. I showed up, late one night, at my dad's door, and I said, "dad, I need a place to stay for awhile and clear my head." We both cried and he took me in, and I didn't so much as look at ArchDaily while I was over there.

I decided to go visit my mom in Phoenix, which turned out to be a mistake. I still had a few old buddies from my drafting days and I met up with a few of them. Not to do any architecture, mind you, just to binge drink. But you know, it turns out those guys were still up to their eyeballs in architecture, and after a few drinks your eyes wander up to take in ceiling details and your hands itch for a pen and before you know it, you're critiquing spatial distribution of the downtown and trying to figure out ways to modernize an aging housing stock without losing contextual and historical references.

They hooked me up with a little side action. Not much, but enough to make me hunger for the whole CS5 suite. A donut shop proposal, a midtown grocery and housing complex. Rather than soothing my nerves it whetted my appetite again. I started thinking about funding my architecture habit through real estate development.

That was two weeks ago. Like I said, I've been clean since then.
It hasn't been easy.