It was Monday morning. The professor was giving a lecture about how building plans force the movements of the occupants [human], when suddenly he showed the plan of Phillip Johnson's Glass House. Actually it's quite familiar for me, I guess, and so for everyone who is learning architecture. It has been featured in many lectures and discussions, especially in the History of Architecture class.
But there's one thing I can not explain: why did I suddenly trapped back to the high school dream and conversations, and why now? Why not, let's say, few years ago when I was on my history class?
But there's one thing I can not explain: why did I suddenly trapped back to the high school dream and conversations, and why now? Why not, let's say, few years ago when I was on my history class?
In case you think that I start to ramble, I'm going to construct a story about this.
Back in 2002 - 2004. I was a bold high school student. I liked to draw, I liked to play with pencils. I liked to imagine artworks. I played guitar. I didn't like to study, but I wasn't one of those rebelious-wannabe students who acted 'extra' in order to get more attention; I kept everything inside my mind. I was emotional, and I didn't like to joke. On my 3rd grade, I was the one who had an idea to decorate our class into an outer space experience for class decoration competition during the celebration week of Independence Day. Once a math teacher came into the class to teach. I can clearly remember he said: "When I went into this class, I felt like being in an outer space. Who's the architect of this decoration?"
It was very obvious, that my future carrier would be an artist, or designer [read: architect]. At least it's what my friends once thought about me. It was not because I make an announcement. I also didn't make any corny behavior to state anything; it's just that obvious.
And so it was. Everyone was talking about her/his dream college. Accountting. Medical school. Politics. Architecture was very rare. On the conversations with my friends, they often 'booked' me for their dream house. One friend wanted Javanese styled house. Another wanted a house with her own music studio. It was common, and nearly jokes. Not the kind of ridiculous, stupid jokes, but it's just a dream which we all knew, we're not going to get there soon. It's a kind of ideal aspiration to reach once we're adult and well established.
Then one of my friend asked: "how about your dream house?" I recklessly answered that it would be a small, square house, without room order, because it's only for me. And do you know that although it sounds selfish and careless, I really meant it.
I went to an architecture school, as I wished.
And I learned so many things, including this Glass House. But I remembered nothing about the dream house. I was too busy with my thoughts and depressions. I forgot to have fun. I forgot to dream. I forgot to play guitar. I forgot to sketch. I forgot to make artworks. Even I went out a lot, but I don't think it's the real way of really indulge myself in my excitement. I forgot how to be a human, a teenager with aspirations.
It's only last Monday, I saw the Glass House plan again. How shocked I was, that the idea was pretty similar to my honestly imagined house. And how I get more shocked to know that I never realize this.
left: Glass House. right: once it was my dream house.
You know, I never really hate architecture. I always love architecture as a humble space, and as a knowledge; but not as a profession.
It's the same way that I never really want to be an architect.
And this is the only thing I miss about being an architecture student:
5 comments:
i never meant when i said i hate architecture. honestly, i adore it, i love it as a part of my mind, my heart, and my dream.
just like you said, i hate it as a profession.
i want architecture as my life.. not my job, not the only way i can make money (maybe it can be, but not always be). i want to do it for free, if i could.. then everybody can feel my existence, that i live through my design.. through architecture which i bring to them.
too many things i ask from architecture.
even architecture never really cared about my existence.
hehe, sounds like a unreachable love.. ;)) i am a silly lover. :p
silly lovers, we are, vel :p
can not be more agree with you.. architecture is about living. if we forget how to live, then how could we melt with it?
i can relate a lot to this post. hehe. i wish i write as good as you.
but i always like our writing, cal.
Thank you for re-divining my thought. I always think that I was wrong to choose architecture at the first place. And deep inside my heart I thought that I can not be a good architect, that I will destroy more rather than make a better living. I’m too afraid that the impact will be worst compared to what we currently living.
But it always a pleasure for me to learn something beyond architecture which relates to almost to the tiniest detail of our life. I can spend hours reading how a simple space can spread through and perceived in every part of our unconscious mind, how a natural yellow dim light can change our mood and how the informal settlement can teach us the quality of human interaction.
I’m agree with you. Maybe architect is not a good profession (also) for me. Maybe I expecting architecture more than life itself. Maybe.
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