the machine is the garden

Landscaping and gardening are design disciplines that present considerably more challenges than architecture that is oriented towards buildings. Exterior environments are in a state of change that overwhelms human intervention--while perversely,  human intervention constitutes a critical component of that change. The actions of an individual take on the flavor of futility and as a consequence, decay and movement become legitimate parts of the design composition. We are more inclined to embrace continual maintenance in a landscaping project. If a tree dies it is replaced, and no hard feelings arise. If a door in a building fails it becomes grounds for a claim. We expect retaining walls to fail--but the collapse of a building's foundation is a catastrophe.

observations about eternity

Humans frequently have a tendency of assigning a "golden age" to a period in the past. It's a matter of economy. Like Gatsby, we know that it takes less effort to create lies about history than put the effort into creating a better tomorrow. True futurism consists of the actions of children moving into a world littered with the errors of their parents.

Now I'm getting side-tracked. This is supposed to be about architecture; specifically, religious architecture. I will make the claim that all golden ages of monumental building inspired by piety are behind us. We're still worshiping financial institutions, but as the experience of the Freedom Tower (or am I supposed to call it 1 WTC) demonstrates, our hearts aren't into it anymore. I think that religious institutions will persist for considerably longer than Richard Dawkins would like them to, but I think any construction projects they undertake will continue to be mundane, conservative, and unmemorable. Smart parishioners will make a point of investing in mixed-use or convertible structures.

The utility of space is viewed differently by architects. We assign it a higher value when it is unoccupied--hence the way renderings and photos often exclude entourage. The fact that the design profession makes such a big deal about "space" indicates the level of indoctrination. NASA may own space, but on the planet Earth everything that gets built gets considered and evaluated as an inverted sculpture.

This photograph seems particularly detached from today's blog content, but if we visually edit out the wagon, the people, the tools, and the clutter we have a pure moment of enclosure. A dim room with bright windows at one end. It's hard to do. That wagon is good looking.

failing to make a decision--food edition

Today's blog post will not break any new ground. Towers of ilium strives for nuance instead of originality.

I had a bad experience at Trader Joe's last night. I drove my car to the place, which made me feel slightly guilty--normally I shop at the Trader Joe's on Boylston Street and must adhere to the discipline of buying no more than I can carry on public transportation. So, the Trader Joe's as suburban shopping center experience was a definite betrayal of values. The experience inside the store was slightly different, but in a curious way. The aisles were wider but had the same items. I realized how the store caters exclusively to the "modern" shopper--a creature who is strapped for time because of a demanding white collar job. The food items are pre-made, conveniently packaged, reliably tasty, and cleverly set at price points that makes them feel cheaper than take-out from a restaurant.

I filled my cart with things I did not need, all the while telling myself the lie that I was making good decisions. I want to be well prepared and well nourished for the zombie apocalypse. I grabbed two boxes of brownie mix without meaning to. I bought ice cream because I had never tried ice cream from Trader Joe's. I bought a hundred dollar's worth of packaging, and I didn't plan a single meal.

boston is probably not like great britain

The Boston metro region and the United Kingdom are similar when it comes to housing in one respect: supply is constrained by regulations and not able to keep up with household formation. As a consequence, housing prices are quite high and options limited. The housing bubble affected both places, but it's worth noting that in Boston, prices moved sideways after a three year decline from the 2005 peak. We're experiencing a demand driven price run-up right now, but nothing along the lines of the speculative madness of the previous decade. Britain, by contrast seems to be gripped by bubblemania again, with prices surging in and around London. It would be interesting to compare London to New York City.

Interesting. More similar to Boston than to the U.K. I wonder if ex-pats like to park money as real estate in London more than anywhere else.

obsolete, useless, and insane

I can't remember the last wristwatch I owned. When I was young I had a series of Casio digitial watches that I thought were the greatest things in the world. I was proud of the fact that they claimed to be waterproof up to 40 meters. I never had occasion to test that and in retrospect, I'm glad--I have a fear of deep water. I lusted after a watch that had a calculator, but I never owned one. I went cold turkey on a wristwatch after I got a cellphone and now I'm slightly puzzled by people who still own and rely on wristwatches. I'll admit that they're big business, and will probably continue to be big business up until the lights go out.

Now, I'm beginning to lust after a sealed combustion hot water heater. If I'm motivated, I'll have one installed this year. It's satisfying to own and display new and shiny things. A water heater doesn't have much weight as a fetish symbol, but I'll enjoy having one. It's only visible sign for the outside world will be two plastic pipes sticking out the plastic covered wall of my house. 

James Bond had a variety of souped-up, weaponized wristwatches. One of them was a teletype machine. Bond wore his wristwatch to bed--all the time.

all these yesterdays

The outdoor season in New England began a week or two ago, and like a few million other homeowners I've started paying my weekly tribute to the Home Depot. This ritualistic sacrifice of money is necessary for the well-being of that holiest of spaces on my property--the front lawn. Many birds are grateful for the seeds I spread in a futile effort to encourage the growth of non-native grasses. I occasionally worry about the downstream effects of some of the chemicals I have purchased. My experiments with clover have been limited in success. I'm worried that everything I've planted is dead or dying. Something always ends up growing--and I actually look forward to weeding some of the uglier species.

I enjoying seeing lawns that are in good shape--but I also enjoy variety. Residential landscaping will certainly become more diverse and hopefully, sustainable, in the decades to come. At some point I'll settle on a good solution, or somebody will reveal it to me, for the right price. Until then, the alchemy will continue.