Nautilus

The work of Bjarke Ingels often define what is "social" living, creating spaces out of simple and common materials, and combining them to enable sustainable co-living.

Happy Father’s Day.

I was born and I didn’t know where you were. You just sort of disappeared soon after I guess. I can’t get a straight answer from anyone, really. So I’ll just have to think that you didn’t want to be a part of my life.

I grew up, thinking that I’m pretty normal. Lots of folks not having fathers (or mothers) either, and somehow they’re fine. You just sort of existed as a sperm donor, I guess. I mean I can’t really ascertain what you wanted when you had me, really. So I’ll just have to think that I’m as normal as anyone can be, this is my life.

And I knew a lot more. I met friends and their families. I saw the world for what it is, I guess. I can’t get an explanation for when, why, and how I exist from *anything*, really. So I’ll just have to think that it’s not what we’re dealt with, but what we make of it, this life.

But I continue to ask:

Where are you?

Am I normal?

Do I know enough to be a person?

It’s a Iingering question, I guess.

Not that I’ve ever searched for you, really.

And I just had to think that maybe I…fathered myself in *my life*?

When I was born, I was there for myself. I mean, it’s not as if I was given a handbook of how-to-father-yourself, but it came with the package I guess. And even then I can’t understand a lot of things, so not that it matters, really. So I’ll just have to think that this is…well life.

It makes me wonder though, when I have my first born, will I be there for them? I still have a lot of questions about myself, and for the million times I’ve asked if at a moment’s notice I’m ready to be a father, I thought I’m going to be up to the task I guess? Not that I’m in any sort of financially, physically, mentally, emotionally, ready, really… But I’ll have to face that responsibility when it comes, of a new life?

So anyway, I guess all of this just to say that…I wanted to have a father, I guess. And I thought I did that for myself, but it was just all guesswork, really. And every year, on this stupid day gamified, capitalized on, and smacked on every single page, screen, milieu, stage, in-and-on-the-green, what-have-you—

I have to ask myself. I have to guess. I have to rationalize that really…reality has a way of building you up and breaking you down until you’re pretty sure you know what you’re getting into, what you might want out of it, and maybe discern how will you deal with it.

Phew. That’s a lot. But for a Father’s Day greeting it’s fine I guess. Not that there’s a Father to greet to, really. So on this day, I’m greeting each and every father, whether you’re with your kids, in a separated family, a single parent, distanced from your children, alienated from your children, (insert whatever arrangement here), a Happy Father’s Day.

Celebrate the fact that you gave birth to a life. And maybe, hopefully, you can grapple with that.

The Richmond Townhouse (Richmond, Melbourne) is a two-unit three-level dwelling designed by Pitch AD. What drew me to this scheme is the interesting use of metal bi-fold screens as an interesting detail to the facade, while also facilitating for indoor temperature control and privacy shutters.

During the day the screens bring in beautiful patterns from the light streaming through them, and in the night time they offer added privacy for the folks inside. 

They could be opened up completely for increased ventilation, or staggered like an accordion—both of these transforming the frontage of the house.

The screens also unify the profile of the structure, extending to an outdoor balcony for one of the units.

The use of dark wood, silver aluminum cladding, and white fiber cement exteriors form an understated palette, playing off on the contrast between the colors and materials, as well as framing the beautiful tree in front of the property.

Personally I’m a huge fan of transforming exterior pieces in buildings as they bring character to the structure while also provide multiple benefits for the occupants. I love being in rooms with large windows, but the heat gain and loss of privacy can be a challenge especially when your building is within an urban setting. Depending on the kind of material, interior ventilation, and proximity to the road these panels may even serve as low-key sound insulation, although I’m not sure that was part of this specific brief.

I can’t comment much on the interiors, as the style is personally not my preference, but the layout is well-optimized, especially given the space constraints the architects were working with. If anything, they were very disciplined in crafting the spaces for the different activities within the units! There are three bedrooms throughout the units, both on the ground and third levels, with common spaces sandwich on the second. I could easily imagine myself having a home office and entertainment den on the ground level (in place of the two bedrooms).

"Because of this entertainment incentive, the news doesn't actually end up being super informative. You're not actually learning a lot about anything other than what happened that day, who said what to whom and why, and then how a billion people reacted to why...it becomes a giant gossip-fest almost."

It's really not so much that there are no dedicated, ethical, and upstanding journalists, it's just that I think we may be missing the forest for the trees. I've always thought about journalistic institutions and news makers not as gatekeepers, as they are often described in classical text, but as synthesizers of thought—weavers of not just a single narrative, but how multiple narratives mesh together. Most of the issues we talk about are not zero-sum games. It doesn't mean that you advocate for climate change that you are completely against the responsible use of whatever coal/fossil stock we have currently. Or it doesn't mean that because you support this particular politician you also deny the existence of the a virus that's causing this very global pandemic.

There are nuances. And I've gotten so tired of hearing "fuck nuance" when it comes to discussing big issues that concern as all. Because nuance, context, and discourse is all that there is that we have in order to effectively work with each other towards a common solution. Now just because it's a "big" word—nuance—that it can be difficult. It can be as simple as oh I have to take care of the kids at 9 in the morning, can we do our call at 1 in the afternoon, oh you're not available then, how about 12 a lunch call if you will, great thanks talk to you soon! Or it can be as complex as we have to agree to reduce our carbon footprint and reliance on fossil fuel products, but some countries will have to do more, especially those who are already in the process, and have the means and technology to do so, and some countries can promise less, but will have to commit to it either way and will be helped by wealthier countries.

But I get where that "fuck nuance" fire comes from. It's from exhaustion of what we call as "news" and what we perceive as the "mainstream media". Newsmakers are mainstream media. Popularity does not denote what mainstream is, in this context, influence dictates what's mainstream. And if we pander to the we said/they said mechanic of delivering "news", if we err too much on the side of entertainment and emotionally compromising consumers just to gain more "ratings" and become more...."mainstream", then, as Carlos Maza says in the video, it's going to be really really tiring.

I've been always careful how to discuss about my "dissatisfaction" about how modern "news" is being done because it may pander to different viewpoints that aren't really what I'm concerned about. There could be those who say that "oh that's because that's all fake news, mainstream media is fake news." There could also be those who say that "you just don't get what the news should be and that it's biased but it's biased towards the truth." Whose truth? Yours, mine, theirs?

My main concern, about all of this is really: our news has largely become about who and what and where, and less about how and why. When I feel, (and I may be wrong an naive), news should inspire you to learn more about the world. It should empower you to do better by your community, by trying to understand why and how things happen, not simply who are what made those things happen. It expands your mind to think not only of the local picture, but of the larger context of things as well.

And we have to fight against this "convenience" of "breaking news", because news is difficult. It takes time to research, observer, immerse, witness, condense, narrate, edit, verify, check, and ultimately, publish. IN THE SAME WAY, it takes incredible time and thinking to read, watch, digest, identify, contextualize, verify, research, witness, immerse, and observe. In some ways, it's the opposite approach for consumers as it is for newsmakers.

Though it doesn't mean that news has to be long and boring. The best piece of news should be succinct enough, and I think there are news organizations who are doing great work in this regard. Samples in the video include the NYT, Propublica. I would include Axios, The Guardian. Now one may argue that these organizations already have a bias or a leaning, and if they do it should challenge us. See where they come from. It should not embolden us to negate them, or even discredit what they have to say.

Newsmakers should be responsible. They have to be self-aware. And by doing so, maybe it could also influence a generation of news consumers who are responsible. Who are self-aware.

A few weeks back I had the opportunity to finally sit down and watch Ad Astra. I enjoyed the film mostly, not just because it's science fiction, but because of the introspection that it allowed me to take part in.

At its core, the story is about the loss and absence of a father, and a son trying to come to terms about his father’s impact (or non-impact) on his life. 

There’s a scene midway in the film where Roy McBride (Brad Pitt), the protagonist of the film, is being interviewed after an animal attack:

The attack...it was full of rage. I understand that rage. I've seen that rage in my father...and I've seen that rage in me. Because I'm angry that he took off. He left us.

You know...but when I look at that anger, if I push it aside and just put it away, all I see is hurt. I just see pain. I think it keeps me walled off from relationships, and opening myself up, and you know, really caring for someone.

And I don't know how to get past that. I don't know how to get around that.

And it worries me. And I don't wanna be that guy. I don't wanna be my dad.

It’s quite a moving scene, and Brad Pitt delivers these lines very emphatically that I had to pause watching the film at this point. I was very moved.

If you grew up without parents, whether it’s both of them gone, one of them, or you haven’t had parents at all, you develop an image of your parents in your head. You tend to externalize them because you feel like even in their absence they’re supposed to be a part of you...because that’s the “normal” thing to have for growing boys and girls. 

As you grow older you find yourself asking how much you are like or unlike them, sidestepping the fact that you never really knew them so you wouldn’t even know unless someone who knew them tells you. However it’s the negative traits you see within you that you attribute most to them, because you both think that maybe they’re not good enough people to leave you, or you’re not good enough to be left behind. Because why would they leave, otherwise?

And maybe it’s unfair to them, because you know that why they left must be because of the circumstances they’re in, and not because of who you are and what you mean to them. Still, with them not there you wonder: why?

The climax of the film is a moment of discovery, acceptance, and understanding that maybe, you knew all along what the truth is:

I must accept the fact I never really knew you. Or am I you being pulled down the same dark hole?

And again it points back to you—if it’s not you that’s the reason for them leaving, then are you led down the same path to choose as they did? Aren’t humans just tumbling towards the same dark truths?

It took me a long time to see my parents as distinct human beings from the images I’ve had of them in my mind. And I’ve long since accepted that their reasons, whatever they _truly _were, is their story to tell (and it’s not about me). That I have the agency to live my life, and that I would be the only one to determine the paths I will be taking, then, now, and in the future. And that I never really knew them as I thought I did, with all the questioning and understanding I might have extended to them (and not towards myself).

Sometimes I look at a piece of work and think that “Oh, it’s but an ideal.” It’s a distillation of values and messaging that’s meant to appeal to some key part of a human’s soul.

Sometimes those distillations make my heart sing—a moving arrangement of words, a well-paced delivery of video cuts, a pleasing configuration of primitives on a piece of paper. Sometimes they unsettle me, often pointing to realities that either I am running away from, or running towards; my comfort zone is in the middle, after all.

Try as I might I don’t often have the words to adequately quantify why a piece of work that’s just ideal makes me identify with it so much it sparks movement within me. A good book makes you want to write, a great visual makes you want to paint, a good song makes you want to sing.

I struggle with this, because the tension is between letting something sit as an ideal and letting making it exist within my own reality. In other words, it’s such a fucking good piece of art that I want it to be real within me, within my life.

That frustration sometimes becomes a deterrent, a slap on the face or cold bucket of ice (what have you), because I want to make the ideal as real as the idea I have of it. What I perceive exactly has to be what I am. And if I don’t even approach a smidgen of that ideal, then it becomes just that, an ideal. “Oh it’s but an ideal. A distillation of values and messaging that’s meant to appeal to some key part of a human’s soul.”

And it takes and it takes and it takes so much time and effort to keep that frustration in check, not because of a belief that I could make the ideal reality in the end, but because if left unchecked, it would just stop you from doing things. It makes one feel like there’s nothing worth doing when everything is worth doing.

Here’s the thing about these ideals though—they’re…distillations of values and messaging, yada yada yada. And so they are not an entirety of a life within and without of itself. They’re snippets of a larger reality that is being captured in situ. It’s a piece of the artist’s soul at that specific moment in time and place, nothing else. It could serve as a reminder, as a keystone, as a milestone, or a phone call back home. But it’s just that, a distillation.

So it’s an ideal, yes. Something worthy of aspiration and inspiration. But an ideal nonetheless. And that shouldn’t discourage me, neither should it be a benchmark of what I want my own reality to be. It is a guide but it is not wholly what I strive for.

What I strive for is that distillation, and not how reality was presented in that ideal. Not an idea of distillation, but an idea distilled.

I am a firm believer that we should be able to create public spaces that instill a sense of pride in the community that interacts within and around those spaces.

The design of Matamoros Market by Colectivo C733 (Matamoros, Tamaulipas) evokes just that, while also being designed for the place it is built on.

The brick walls protect the interior from solar heat gain, and the interesting inverted trapezoidal roof design collects rain water, allows heat to dissipate upwards, and also provide natural lighting into the interiors.

I do wonder if the same benefits could be achieved with less material use, but just looking at the building from afar really is a striking sight, and I think is something that would instill pride in the community within and around it.

It's about time we shouldn't be surprised that people can sometimes have double standards. We make a million different adjustments to how we see the world based on the million sensory inputs we get every minute.

The Singular Truth™ about a person is a myth.

This is founded on a belief that people can change, in fact we all continually do. The extent of change is based on a million different factors of course, and depending on scale, some changes might be unmoving, if at all.

This is also a rebuke to the notion that someone is just inherently acting in bad faith. The action is bad faith, but often the motivations come from a different place. This is not to forgive or grant leniency to actual bad faith actors, but to avoid demonizing without cause.

The more we peddle narratives about the Big [Insert Noun Here] are out to get you, the more we get desensitized to what we should really be paying attention to, and the more we are robbed of the agency to even just think.

Think about how any kind of popular opposition is often just outrage, with little consideration to thinking about what can be done. Outrage has its place but, outrage is not and should not be the norm. (This works both ways, depending on where you're standing.)

I still believe that having level heads and an explicit exercise of prudence can produce more actionable solutions, rather than just shouting into the nether space.

Because all those shouting promotes more shouting, and sometimes that shouting makes us think less of others as humans but just impenetrable walls that we have to shout at.

Point being is: we are complex beings, you, and I, and all of us different and together. In our thoughts and actions, online and offline, we have to remember that on the other side of a conversation is a human who can think, read, speak, and has agency over their actions.

I think that we have to lead with education and prudence, and that othering is not any more effective nor in rebuke of whatever it is we are condemning or rallying against.

And emotions—they are powerful. And we must respect that power not by weaponizing it and using it to cause harm and pain. We do however have to amplify empathy, because it is only through empathy we can grasp at the scale of our emotions.

So the next time that you see someone, and think, oh what a double standard! Think less of the damning thing you are about to say to them in disgust, and think more of the immediate context around which that person established the standard in question.

You can point out the conflicting standards, but to just scream into the nether "that's a double standard!" is just as a double standard as you not making a point when you say that you only want what's best for humanity.

What does the hand think of the lungs as it lights another cigarette What does the mouth think of the nose as you inhale those toxic fumes

What do the eyes think of the brain as it sends one thing as it senses another What does the heart think of the soul as it does not think or ponder

About life, or thinking, if at all It’s the brain that feels, or pretends to be

The heart is just a vessel for blood And the engine of the soul

The world is not an optimization problem.

We cannot optimize for everything, even as we ourselves cannot personally optimize everything. We have to decide which things are important enough to optimize for, personally, and then collectively.

Which is to say that it is a choice.

What gets optimized is a choice that was made, and not based on an objective optimization algorithm that decides what gets optimized.

I’m here today to bury you For so long I’ve chased this But now when it finally should make sense It made sense, just differently

I keep thinking about when the plane lands And my footsteps foot steps On greener soil, soiled With hopes and dreams and connection

I didn’t think that it would mean Burying someone, some one, lone some I didn’t think of a death I thought of a new life

You left when I was nine For a convention I suppose But it was like this all the time And even then you were close

But weeks turned into months And then the planes fell The towers, felled And I, fell And I thought I buried my hopes I thought I buried my sense, self, sense of self I thought I was to be remade I thought we’d be together if I prayed

Years. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen years I discovered myself and who I am to be Then nineteen, twenty, twenty-one years I missed over myself and who I was to be

You left when I was nine (You see when you left A part of me left with you)

For a convention I suppose (A convention of sorts I guess, An agreement that you’d be back)

But it was like this all the time (A promise was made, a promise not kept Left unkempt, unkempt you left)

And even then you were close (Keep your friends close, But keep your enemies closer)

And now with my footsteps on the foot, steps As I unlock the door and open my eyes I see a mirror, staring back I stand still, taken aback

I am here to bury you But you’re not dead I’m just letting you go

We revere fire as something of power. In that, power is inherent within it.

It benefits us, as it can move us to action, and it harms us, as it can burn down things we care about. We are afraid of fucking with it as we can extinguish it—which is power when held—or that it can burn our fingers—which is power when we can’t control it.

The key thing to remember however is, we its power isn’t inherent, as we can both start and end it. We assign its power to it, and we can take that away.

We must understand it, even as we revere it. Both can co-exist either way.

I’ve been feeling out of myself recently, thinking about all the hate that is going on around us.

Hate doesn’t know race, job, gender, finances, etc. It‘s something that pierces through whatever categorization we have made as humans.

It feeds on fear, and operates on othering based on a constraint that we set in our minds: we are—I am—not like them. It amplifies that sentiment until it grows into a fiery flame that bites the hands that feeds it, sometimes consuming them completely.

To undo this incredible hate that’s going around, we have to look at the constraints that we’ve set in our minds, and what makes us think that we are not like “others”.

We’d be surprised to know it’s not being different are afraid of, but the lack of understanding about what we need in our lives.

Baring ourselves like this…is difficult. It takes a lot of humility and vulnerability, even more than what we might even be comfortable about.

But it’s a necessary step.

I'm very fond of the latest Kara Swisher interview with Fran Lebowitz on the Sway Podcast because of how their conversation highlights a key aspect of our problems with social media and modern platforms: they're human ones.

Click here to listen to the episode (and read the transcript).

Lebowitz urged strongly that she never used Twitter, but she was very astute:

"People should be outraged at people who have power, not people who do not..."

Often times the 'mess' of tweets we experience are coalescing around a person in power, and not even pointed at them.

More often than not, this kind of unproductive, whataboutist, cross-talk can often distract from the real problems at play. Any cunning person of power would love to let the technicalities get prime time rather than the meat of what actually happened—headlines, not news.

Swisher and Lebowitz also touched a bit about cancel culture:

"...there seems to be a very high level of outrage over things that are both trivial and monumental."

Cancel culture, (disagree with the nomenclature but it is what it is), is really about using the power of social media to bring people to account, and demand reparations where there has been damage made.

For the most part I think it is positively directed but this confusion of 'trivial and monumental' has diminished its significance, and is also why it's been (strategically) used as a talking point especially by those who are subject to it.

How do we get lost in one self When there is an infinitude of they In the finite oneself

What do we do want to see in one, self When there is an infinitude of who In the finite oneself

I’ve been reading James Clear’s Atomic Habits and while this could be a simple afternoon read I keep pausing and noting my thoughts and feelings trying to absorb as much as I can out of it.

It’s a book about habits, but it focuses so much on identity as a means of behavioral change. And because it focuses on identity, this also relates to a lot of other things besides habits.

The moment you consider yourself as this and that, the more you align your behaviors and beliefs according to this and that. And when your identity is defined by what your environment says about you, the easier it is to just accept that and move on.

Sometimes so, it’s so hard to think that you’re not going anywhere because it’s just who you are.

And I absolutely love this:

This is why you can’t get too attached to one version of your identity. Progress requires unlearning.

Far too often we get so stuck in believing that there is only one version of ourselves, and we often feel conflicted when something challenges us. It makes us uncomfortable to try new things, or to even try to understand what is happening in the world.

The reality is as individuals we have as many facets to ourselves as there are atoms in the universe, even more. Some we try to develop more, and some we try to change for the better.

I'm frustrated. I'm very frustrated. And not at you, not at really anyone, kind of at myself. I just want to do more, and I feel like I'm lagging...

And I don't want to just complain the whole time because I don't particularly care for complaining. I think there is always a solution, you just have to work to find one.

And my solution is, there is a time limit on this platform for me. I need an end date. I need a goal.

You take what you have learned, you take what you have grown to do, and what you have nurtured and you and you do something else with it. That is not giving up, that is changing direction.

Sometimes I wish that I just took life for what it is, and I just did what I have to do. That, as Jake said, I worked in a cubicle and have a steady income and work up the chain and at least have a semblance of a normal life.

This is not to discount the incredible privilege and luck I had, and have. to do so, but I think I simply can't not do what I want to do and not pursue something even if it meant that capital S success might not be in the cards for me, at least in the short term (which is a life full of short terms). I can't not explore, and try to do something about my interests, or even at least try to earn something from it even if meager.

And it's difficult trying to justify to myself why must I always live in crippling fear that maybe tomorrow what I'm doing is not panning out. But I would just like to hold on to that hope that maybe, just maybe I'm on the right path. That my steady snowball of interests that led to new interests that also led to knew areas where I can earn and make a living, is one that would turn into a repeatable pattern of success for me—even if just meager.