Architectural Detention

Vancouver architecture is often deceiving. It would be easy to mistake this new building on the corner of 1st and Main for some sort of government detention center. An unwelcoming place where people are sent against their will. A building of cement rooms with narrow windows and heavy locked doors. Hallways that smell of antiseptic and fear. It would be conceivable to imagine a basement where the Geneva Convention has been replaced by heavily redacted documents.

This perception would only be partly wrong. This is a new social housing project. This is for the people. Our government appears to be hiring octogenarian architects from East Germany.

Melancholia

Sometimes on rainy days at the shop it is easy to slip into a state of melancholia. The rain coming down. Elvis Costello singing about diving for pearls. The solitude of the shop. Melancholia takes me gently so I barely notice until I find myself entering the next stage, the one I’ve heard referred to as call morbid reflection. This is when I begin reflecting critically on past decisions, situations I wish I had handled differently, the times I perhaps should’ve said something different.

The difference between nostalgia and melancholia is that nostalgia can be shared. With friends. With family. Even with total strangers. Melancholia is solitary. Nostalgia has potential for light whereas melancholia’s direction is inevitably towards dark and ponderous thoughts.

Today I caught myself in mid descent and had a quick flash of truth that brought me back. The fact is that I have a really great life! I wasn’t working outside in the rain. I was building a cute shelving unit for someone’s kitchen. I wasn’t hungry. I could change the music and no one would complain (The Ramones are antithesis of melancholic music). In that flash of truth was also the realization that I ought to be focusing on the task at hand rather than mulling over things I would never be able to change. I should be focusing my attention on building the best damn cute shelving unit possible! So that’s what I did…

Cutting dados for the aforementioned unit

Modern Division

A little something I whipped up at the shop.

A vertical grain fir sliding panel door as division of space.

Waldorf Diaries--The Waldorf Pool!!

The Waldorf is getting a new pool!!

Think Esther Williams

Think Chateau Marmont

Think Vancouver's Downtown East Side

You get the picture. It's going to be sweet!

Waldorf Diaries--The Flanover

Living at the Waldorf Hotel can be a dangerous experience. I’m not referring to the hipster onslaughts or the shady characters in the parking lot. I’m not talking about being accosted with inane conversation by barely 20 somethings hopped up on Mojitos. Nor the threat of breakbeats putting me at risk of suddenly busting a potentially dangerous move. I speak of a lethal combination served with careless abandon in the restaurant below me. The late night flan and espresso combo.

Seductive.

Delicious.

Together they call to me in irresistible siren songs through the floor. Beckoning me to venture down the stairs and partake in their contrasting yet enticing complimentary flavors. The warm creamy flan drizzled in dolce leche leaving a subtle sweetness on my tongue only to have that lightness transformed into something deeper. Something darker with a simple sip of coffee. Intoxicated and entranced, I am defenseless against its lure.

The immediate effect is one of euphoria, an electric exhilaration, a desire to express myself creatively, and a feeling of rapturous invincibility. Inevitably, an hour later, those ecstatic sensations are followed by an equally radical crash that sends me crawling shamefully into bed.

Then, in the morning, there is the unavoidable Flanover. Even before my eyes are open I feel the throbbing in my temporal lobe. The morning sun coming in the window burns my parched tongue that must’ve been hanging flaccidly out of my mouth while I lay unconcious. Dehydrated and delirious I lurch towards the bathroom and fall into the shower letting the water bring me into semi-consciousness. I brush my teeth staring at myself remorsefully in the mirror. My eyes appear as two red orbs sunken deep into my skull.

Espresso. Flan. Each of these individually pose potential risks. Together they can destroy a man.

This is my shame.

The Waldorf Diaries--Opera/Punk Rock/Ratting Hotel Windows

I’m a city boy and I’ve come to accept that fact. I like traffic, sirens, and car alarms. I move in the flow of human traffic like water on sidewalks. I’m comforted by the juxtaposition of crumbling asphalt and blooming cherry trees.. I appreciate the expressions of mankind’s grandiosity. I value the dirt, decay, and the glaring signs of human frailty. I like a myriad of options.

I’ve had a little time off and I’m doing my best to get out and do things in this city. Explore the options available. Last night I got dressed up and went to see Aida with a friend. I don’t often have the opportunity to get see an Egyptian warrior entombed with his Ethiopian princess lover so it was very exciting. Exciting and so very tragic. After the opera, still dressed in our opera attire, we went across town to see a friend’s band play in a small club on the east side When I got back to the hotel I navigated my way inside through the crowd of young club kids gathered on the sidewalk outside. I had my friend who was working coat check help undo my collar button for me so I could take off my tie. Then I hung up my suit, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. I like the possibility of solitude within this kinetic collage. My windows rattled rhythmically with dubstep remixes from the club downstairs and the loud sidewalk conversations blurred into a soothing static. As peaceful as Tibetan singing bowls.

Money

For the past couple days I’ve been going through piles of receipts and invoices. Making stacks of paper and then shoving those stacks into labeled envelopes for my accountant. I don’t usually leave this until the end of April. Most years I have this financial imperative finished sometime in early March. I’m not entirely sure what happened this year. I’m not worried…it’s going to get done.

It’s interesting looking at this physical representation of my job. Where the money came from. What the money was for. How the money was spent. Last year was a particularly good year. That’s not in reference to my net income (I’ve made more money at other times in my life) but rather to the jobs I was able to do. They were interesting, challenging, and above all rewarding in a creative sense. I feel good about the work I was allowed and the pieces I produced.

Money is necessary if I want to live in this overinflated city and I appreciate a paycheck as much as the next guy but there are much more important things.

More shelving for the Waldorf Studio

Catch Up In Stereo

Over the past couple of months building the tables, booths, and banquets for the restaurant has been all consuming and has forced other projects aside. Over the past few days I've had space to do some catching up. One project that has been on my mind is a stereo cabinet I was contracted to build for the Barbarella Hair Salon location at the Waldorf Hotel (elsewhere referred to as my "home"). Today finished the laminating (there's a bit more detail filing left to do) and touched up the varnish so this sleek piece of eye candy can be installed tomorrow! It's nice to cross something off my lengthy list.

Doing Bacchus Proud

Leading a bacchanalian lifestyle?
Wine cellar overflowing?
Need somewhere to put the cases of Montrachet, 1978 you bought at  Sotheby's?
Maybe you just have a lot of drunken friends in your living room who refuse to leave.
Here is a wine wine rack that is a statement.
It's a lifestyle.
It says, "I go through a lot of wine!"

Cushioned

As the space takes form before the restaurant opens next week apprehension over last details begins to set in. The final variable in the booths and banquets were the cushions and my concerns over the sizes I specified for the upholsterer was beginning to grow. Going to the restaurant this afternoon and seeing all the cushions in place fitting nicely allowed me room to breath and created space for me to obsess about other projects that now require attention. I can move on.

Beautifully design by Scott Cohen and Funhouse built