A lizard sunned on a tree stump. With a bright blue chin. It ran away, then stopped. Flashing pushups, it watched my withdrawal.
Spaceship walk! He climbed onto my back for a better view of the lake. As I put him down, he grabbed my collar and whispered, Actually, I don’t want to walk anymore.
As we walked towards the pond, A duck flew in to join two companions. Quack. Quack! Quack!
Quack. Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! It flew away.
A jackrabbit froze on gravel road. It darted of when the kids clomped down the hill. We told you to stop! But he started first!
We saw a propane grill on a pickup truck. Someone people are better at partying, Even at a State park, Especially at a State park.
To celebrate our 10 year anniversary, I’m sharing this house that has been a part of our marriage for 9 years and 7 months.
The 1,100 sf house was constructed in 1952 and needed a complete renovation.
Along with an complete update of the plumbing and electrical systems, the kitchen was rearranged with the former laundry room opened up for interior access and the insertion of a new powder room within the existing footprint.
Exterior work included a new roof, retrofitting the carport structure, and new concrete flatwork.
We performed the work as owner, architect, and general contractor overseeing the major trades. We also installed and refinished the interior throughout the house.
Project Description
This project was a constant irritant for four years, and we only lived in it for a few months. But it was worth it. We’ve had a great tenant for the last five years, and it set me up for the second phase of my career.
I had always been an employee without subordinates. This was the first time I managed other people. I suspect the hard won experience in difficult negotiations and contractor conflicts came through in my interview, helping me grab this job and preparing me to be an Owner PM.
Every architect should remodel their house, once.
This remodel also taught me to treasure the moment and trust my wife.
By the time we moved in, she was pregnant with the boy. Once he arrived, we moved back in with her parents so they could help with the kids. Then the girl started school in their neighborhood and we never came back.
The universe doesn’t care how long you’ve taken to pursue a dream. Maybe you’ll get nothing, but sometimes it will be kind. Be grateful for those moments, however short. We got a Thanksgiving and Christmas in our house.
Victory is fleeting, and time moves fast. This experience taught me to be picky with my commitments. I learned to focus on activities where I’ve already won by merely doing. (That’s why I’ll never do another house remodel!)
Remodeling isn’t easy with two architects. I tend to rush, but she would sense something amiss and pause. So we’d stop. And think. And redesign. Again and again.
Each delay took days, but it kept getting better. Replay this drama a few times and I got the message. If she’s not ready, then I know something is wrong. I learned to trust her instincts.
I suspect most folks can learn such lessons without a miserable house remodel, but this was our crucible. Here’s to a decade, let’s hope for many more!
Last week, our daughter designed and built a roller coaster from materials at home. Watching the girl press against her 3rd grade deadline surfaced messy memories of late night college studios.
Two kids and a remodel, Still together, A big anniversary. (Another quiet day)
I worked at the office. Rushed to the community center. The girl checked out a theater class. (The boy quickly lost interest)
Crossed the street, Passed through a skate park, The four of us ran around. (Inside the bowl)
At the playground, He swung slowly, She crossed the monkey bars. (I did a couple pull-ups)
Heading home, Watched teens at the skate park. Backflips on scooters! (Dangerous)
She cooked a late dinner. Penne and sauce, Sardines, cucumbers, onions, and artichoke hearts. (I stole most of a celebratory soda)
The kids pressured mom, “Make a cake!” Too late. (9:00)
They ran off, I cleared the table, Celebrated again. (We split a surreptitious popsicle)
We outlasted: The reception venue (Firefly now Nacho Daddy) The wedding venue (Bonnie Springs, demolished) The rehearsal dinner venue (HK Star and its many replacements)
Nothing is guaranteed, I’m grateful things have worked out. On to the next decade. (Hoping for more quiet days)
Many years ago, a BoardGameGeek user in Australia asked me to receive several shipments before his arrival in Vegas to attend a friend’s steampunk themed wedding.
When he came to pick up the games, his wife gave me this pink handmade pillow with chibi Star Wars characters for my newborn daughter.
Last year, I joined Post.news. The open and accepting crowd inspired me to start drawing again after years of fearful, constipated dormancy.
I started a series of hand sketches forming the ASL manual alphabet. After a few letters I started adding alliterative sentences. A month into this exercise, I was forced back into the office.
Reinserting a commute into my routine was so disruptive that I dropped the project before completing it.
~
A couple weeks ago I also joined Substack Notes. One of the first folks I met was Charlene Storey, who started a weekly ritual to share pictures of “everyday magic”.
Given my interest in the mundane objects that surround us (I earned my 2003 NaNoWriMo by writing about the stuff in my tiny garage apartment), it’s a perfect way to jump into the new stream.
~
I should finish the alphabet series, but I also like this new weekly thing and I don’t want to wait half a year before archiving these memories.
So for the next 26 weeks, I’ll be doing a series of unplanned diptychs. Let’s see how it goes.
I spent my undergrad focused on the arts, not theory, much less jumping into the insanity of A Thousand Plateaus, by Deleuze and Guttari.
The studio was about the nomad. I picked the Truck Stop as my program and the site was the 16th Street Train Station, at the time completely abandoned.
Unlike the aborigines’ in Bruce Chatwin’s Song Lines, I stayed completely lost the entire semester.
I made a video of rubber ducks. I visited a port terminal at the Port of Oakland (before 9/11 you could just drive up and ask for a tour). I spelunked that Train Station multiple times. I drove inland to check out real truck stops. I mashed ramen onto a wood board (that didn’t go well).
One night, my buddy threw a pack of cigarettes on a desk and we spent hours hashing out a grand scheme that looked promising.
The next morning I reviewed it with my professor. She agreed it was a good start.
I pulled out my drop papers. She happily signed it to avoid failing me.
That was my last day of class at UC Berkeley.
The main takeaway from the studio was to trust myself.
Raveevarn Choksombatchai was a brilliant professor who would ask pointed questions every time I met her. As a young designer, I earnestly took in every critique.
Her pedagogical approach was to be the devil’s advocate. She stress tested my convictions. That would be a fun studio nowadays, but I wasn’t ready.
Her challenges convinced me to reassess everything every time. Starting over twice a week is a great way to get nowhere.
I’ve since realized that the grand concept is only the seed of a project. Part of the designer’s job is to say “fuck it, good enough, move on”.
There are plenty of problems at that next scale. Architecture is more than a conceptual art; it’s also a craft. Design challenges will confront you at every level along the way.
Don’t let (yourself or someone else) stop you at gestalt.
I’ve gone in quite a different direction from those high concept Berkeley days. Indeed, I don’t design. In the past five years, I’ve done four sketches, my last one locating one door in a short corridor.
But the lesson of this failed studio still lingers.
Not a painful barb, but a gentle reminder to trust myself.
My ideas aren’t perfect, but I know they’re good enough for taking that next step — cause analysis paralysis is so much worse.
I don’t think you can ask for a more impactful lesson coming out of college.
