Meditation in the Racks

Sometimes my shop is simply a place I go to think. It’s a large space where I can sit, pace, make phone calls, write notes, and generally work through problems or ideas. When I need more area than my hotel room but still want to be alone that’s where I go. It helps me organize my thoughts and prioritize. Today I spent a couple of hours taking inventory of what was available in the material racks for upcoming projects and going through the initial design processes in my head.

Function. Form. Structure. Material. Joinery.

As I looked through the lumber racks I began thinking of the projects in my life. Occasionally I’d stop to take notes or call someone to verbalize ideas and get feedback. These periods of shop meditation are often interactive. I depend on others for objective clarity to help me visualize what is possible.

The end result is perspicuity and renewed direction. When I turn off the lights and lock the door behind me I have a better grasp of the bigger picture. I leave with a sense of purpose and peace.

Waldorf Diaries--Belonging (if only for a moment)

“This feels like Vancouver.” I said to the woman at the front desk as I walked into the hotel lobby with my morning cup of coffee.

“It’s a relief.” She said

I’ve woken up to the sound of cars driving in the rain for the past few days. The rubber on wet asphalt sounds like waves breaking on the street. They come in sets with rhythmic patterns that splash the concrete beach outside my window. Our late six week summer came to an end quickly and without transition. One morning last week I got up and realized immediately it was gone.

What’s interesting is I’m not sure I miss it. The cold grey drizzle feels comfortable and I understand her relief. This is the city I know—not the hot sunny city without a cloud in the sky—I don’t recognize that city. I’ve brought my sweaters and hoodies out of their brief hiatus and I feel warm and safe in all my layers. For this moment I feel like I belong here.

Finished Product

I returned to the house I recently finished to take photographs yesterday and the painters had made everything beautiful. I'm lucky to work with talented people! The house looks amazing.

Waldorf Diaries--Expansion and Contraction

360 Degree Quiet

As much as I appreciate small spaces I’m aware of a point when my hotel room begins to constrict around me. Life breathes. It expands and contracts. This evening in the midst of the contraction it was necessary for me to get out. I made my way to a Main street diner and ordered the pulled pork and macaroni and cheese. I ate my cardiac arresting dinner and chatted with the waitress about her ideas on the subjects of “home” and community. After dinner I continued this conversation with a friend sitting outside Gene Coffee drinking cappuccinos. I need these interactions though I often have to force myself out into the world to make them. My vision narrows. It dims and I need help digging myself out of a creative tunnel. It's only through those connection that I am able see light

After an exceptionally social evening I ventured down to the Convention Center plaza. It was after 10:00 pm and the broad space was virtually empty. The mountains were dark silhouettes across the harbor and the still water mirrored the lights of the north shore. I felt the expansion of breath in the quiet city center.