E-House

Recently I started thumbing through Christopher Alexander's "A Pattern Language" again after letting it languish on my bookshelf for some time.  This monumental book on architecture, building, and planning was first published in 1977 and remains one of the best selling books in architecture (ranked #19 in Amazon's books in architecture,) though perhaps not so much for current architectural students and professionals. (It was never once mentioned in my graduate career in architecture at UF and was not heard of by my cohorts in the studios, who admittedly were 20 to 30 years my junior at the time.)  I no longer remember how I came across the book but I remember purchasing it from Cody's in Berkeley; it must have been at least 25 years ago.  The book had a profound influence on my becoming an architect, though the event seems to have taken place haphazardly.  


The book is like a manual which gives ordinary people a systematic guide to thinking about a building project from the most abstract level to the most minute details.  The "languages" of the book range from the macro scale of region, town, community, neighborhood, down to the micro scale of individual buildings and rooms, and a considerable portion of it deals specifically with dwellings.  To my unsophisticated eye at the time, it was the last which attracted me the most.  I don't know how many house plans I drew up before I ever contemplated the possibility of studying architecture.  It is said that it's every architect's dream to have built a house for himself or herself that incorporates all the wisdom she has accumulated and the ideals she perhaps has forgotten or given up on.  I have long ago abandoned the thought of ever building a "dream" house for my own, not so much because of financial reality but just in the recognition that "dreams" are essentially unrealizable.  


However, it has never stopped me from thinking about it and doing it over and over again. This post is to show you my latest attempt in designing a house for Kirk and I.  I called it "E-House" because its shape resembles an extended letter "E", a long, thin bar on one side with three short bars (wings) extending from it, separated by two voids (open courtyards.) This is my favorite house design as of now and I wouldn't mind building it and living in it, whether it ascends to the realm of the ideal or the dream is of no importance.


Here are some rendered images and computer-generated walk-through videos.  For more information, please see the E-House page on my website.

Fall is here

unmistakable sign of fall

The cold spell in recent days seems to have heralded the arrival of fall, and the scattered leaves on the lawn confirm my uneasy suspicion that fall is indeed here.  If I had not seen it with my own eyes, I would not believe it possible that all the green leaves that I am seeing outside my window will soon transform to shades of red and yellow and then be tossed clean off their branches like last year's clothes.  





10.6.2011 update:
Faded, dry, brittle leaves, falling like snow flakes, have steadily accumulated on all horizontal surfaces outdoors; roads, driveways, lawns, and roofs look like confetti-strewn floors at the close of political conventions.

Ludwig's 2011 B.O.Y. Party

2011 Party Flyer

Flank Steak Recipe

In keeping with a tradition that Kirk started for the Philosophy Department at UF, oh, about 20 years ago with a few interruptions, we hosted our second Beginning of the Year Party last Saturday for the faculty and graduate students in the Philosophy Department at IU and some friends we've made outside of the department.  One of the constant features of the Ludwig's B.O.Y. party has been the delectable, juicy, grilled flank steaks and chicken which had been marinated overnight in a secret concoction.  At the request of many fans of the Ludwig's famous flank steak, Kirk finally revealed the secret ingredients of the marination a couple of years ago--they turned out to be nothing fancier than soy sauce and Wishbone Italian dressing from a recipe which Kirk's Mom gave us a long time ago, printed on a dot-matrix printer!  I thought I should unveil the soy sauce-splattered recipe as an article of historical treasure and share it with you all.


Although the format (pot luck), the basic ingredients (wine, grilled flank steak and chicken), and the participants (professional philosophers, future philosophers, and their spouses or significant others) of the party, down to the party flyer (with minor tweaks) have stayed the same through the years, the dynamic of the party seems to be different every year.  There are certain factors which contribute to the changing dynamics from year to year - graduate students came and went (or not) and some faculty retired or moved away and new ones arrived, etc.  But with our move to Bloomington, we've entered a totally new phase of the famous Ludwig's B.O.Y. party.  The most notable differences about our last two parties from all the previous ones were, of course, the change of milieu--both the macro and micro environments were vastly different, and the missing of some familiar faces, without which the parties could never be the same.  


As we had been living in small houses all these years in Gainesville, we noticed that people at our parties, which routinely numbered 30 and up, tended to crowd around the food table, elbow to elbow like in a packed subway car.  My various efforts to entice people to move to other rooms in the house or venture outdoors had met with little success--people like to congregate where the action is and don't like to go where they feel isolated.  Now, in our Bloomington house, the flow of party traffic is much improved and the size of the party has grown substantially to 50+, not only because the house is considerably larger than all our previous abodes but also because it is laid out in such a way that makes it an ideal party house.  The entire back portion of the house, including the kitchen, breakfast area, TV room and Sunroom, is open to a generous deck which steps down to a terrace and the wisteria pergola, amidst a nicely landscaped garden.  There are built-in benches on the deck and seating on the terrace and under the wisteria pergola.  I set out the food, drink, and desert in different rooms which open to one another in the back of the house; people moved from room to room to get the various edibles, stopped to chat along the way, and then stepped outside to find a place to sit down to eat and talk. Small groups were formed here and there; philosophers and non-philosophers co-mingled, profs and students shared a lighthearted moment, and the first-year grads gotten over their diffidence.  As for the macro environment, the early fall weather in Bloomington is mild and pleasant, perfect for sitting outdoors in the evening.  


Though a private person by preference, I've acted the role of the hostess beside Kirk all these years with more or less alacrity and success.  There is a certain amount of vulnerability involved in opening up one's house to a large group of people, most of whom one has never met before.  I sometime felt like a stranger in my own house during these occasions.  But I guess I appreciate Kirk's whole-hearted zeal toward community building, a genuine desire to make the working environment in the department a more pleasant place to be for everybody involved.  Let's hope that it will have a salutary effect here as well. 

Just around the corner

Perhaps the most misleading phrase one hears close to the end of a race is "Just around the corner!" from the well-wishers on either side of the course.  Depending on how depleted one is at the time, it can either be exhilarating or dispiriting - either "Thank goodness, it's almost over!" or "OMG, I'll never get there!"  We are now four weeks into our 10-week half marathon training for the Indianapolis Marathon on October 15.  It seems that one can't claim to know a place unless one ploughs through it on foot.  I wouldn't have traversed all five boroughs in New York City if I hadn't run the NYC marathon there.  I'm afraid the marathon days are over for us now, but being able to tough through some more "halfs" is still something for us to aspire to.  

Dappled Light

the Fall

Whether you are ready for it or not, "things" in general seem about to turn a corner--a new semester officially starts tomorrow at IU, the annual football fever is about to heat up, and though the temperature is still hovering around low 80's, one is beginning to sense a reprieve from the oppressive heat and detect a hint of a change of color at the top of the trees.  Kirk was seized with an inspiration yesterday to explore some nature areas around Bloomington.  We hit the road and drove to McCormick's Creek State Park, about a 30-minute ride northwest of town.  We drove past corn fields, barns, silos, and the quintessential deserted old main streets of small towns USA, in this instance, in Ellettsville and Spencer.  Driving or walking on a part of the earth surface which we've not been before never fails to amaze me; to think that so many lives have, unbeknownst to us, existed and toiled in these parts for so long is something to wonder at.  McCormick's Creek State Park, we learned, was dedicated in 1916 as Indiana's First State Park.  We had a very pleasant walk on one of the trails under the dappled sunlight on the forest floor and we made a date to come back in late October to witness the leaves change colors.  


I imagine that by this time my friends in Gainesville are chomping at the bit for the football season to start, no?

Abby

Free-spirited Abby

The "phantom" Abyssinian cat honored us with an unannounced visit yesterday afternoon. We were just finishing up dinner in the Sunroom and spotted the cat on the deck. Kirk opened the screen door and she rushed over to be patted, then proceeded to walk through the Sunroom and into the house.  After a brief once-over in the TV room, she came back out, unimpressed.  Though skinny, she didn't seem to be much interested in food.  She was playful and appeared to be in good health.  We suspect that she has been cared for by people.  We named her Abby, as in Abby Wambach.

B-Line Trail

B-Line Trail

[For my Bloomington readers]  We made a great discovery last Sunday while out looking for a suitable running route for a longer distance than what we've been used to around the neighborhood.  There is an extensive trail network in Bloomington, a large portion of which was converted from an old railroad.  We ran on the B-line trail, which lies in a north-south direction along the west side of town, about 3 miles long.  The trail is almost completely paved--only a small portion of it is still under construction.  By continuing on to other existing trails, one can get up to about 14 miles round trip, enough for half-marathon training.  It was very pleasant running on the smooth, wide asphalt pavement without having to worry too much about traffic; I was surprised to find that it was not better utilized.  We will certainly be back for our Sunday long runs this fall. 

Rocky Raccoon

Rocky Raccoon

We saw a lean Abyssinian cat wandering across our backyard a couple of times not long ago.  He (or she?) didn't seem to be leery of people, for he once got close to Kirk and rubbed against his legs.  The cat looked troublingly thin, as if life in the wild did not suit him.  Though it is common wisdom that "once you feed a cat, you own it," I decided to put out some cat food and water by the Sunroom door and hoped that the cat might stumble on them at night while hunting for food.  The food was untouched after it was left outside during the first night, but, on the second night the bowls were licked clean.  We weren't sure what or who actually ate the food, but somebody enjoyed it, that much we knew.  I filled the bowls and left them out again and nothing happened on the third night.  The mystery, however, was solved last night - we got home a little after 10 p.m. from a concert and after switching on the kitchen lights we discovered a pair of black-ringed eyes staring at us from the other side of the glass doors!  There he was, a small raccoon rudely disturbed while having his repast.  He appeared to be annoyed but continued his mastication in leisure while we tried to capture him--on film.  Though my attempt to rescue a cat has come to naught, I don't think I should try to domesticate a raccoon.