My good friend Jessica has a blog called Sweet Eventide. As she explained it to me, Eventide is that transitory part of the end of the day that is magical. It’s her favorite moment of the day and I agree that it is magical.
Impressionist painters were obsessed with this time of the day because it was so ephemeral. They would use the fading light like acid to change and define everything even subjects that were deemed immutable. Whether it was to “melt” the past or redefine the future, it inevitably connoted change. This transformation, however, was always encompassed in beauty.
It’s a time of the day that one can look into the sunset and pat oneself on the back and say “good job today”. It’s a time of the day that wraps up all the pragmatic issues and allows us a sense of accomplishment. It’s a time of the day when a ritualistic bathing in the golden glow of the sun cleanses the day’s events and prepares us to dream of tomorrow.
I bring this up because last Friday April 10, 2009 approximately 6:15pm, I had a surreal “eventide moment”. I was in the countryside about an hour and a half outside of Shanghai when I stood on a road that seemed to be aligned perfectly east to west.
Unlike California, this part of China is perfectly flat so all I could see was open farmland and countryside for miles around. As I stood on this road basking in the sun’s golden glow on the west, I noticed a perfect full moon to the east. The amazing part was the alignment of these two empyreal bodies.
Both orbs where perfectly aligned at their respective ends of the road and both orbs were about the same size and almost at the same azimuth and altitude. I wanted to reach out; grab them both, switch them, and see where destiny would take me and what change in beauty would this bring.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Barbie...Savage Garden & Tootie Rolls
In the midst of one of the worst financial crisis, the world has seen in decades, what does China do? Open the biggest (and pinkest) Barbie Flagship stores in the world of course!
I went into this wonderful monstrosity the other day and thoroughly enjoyed myself. We all have our guilty pleasures and as a designer; this is mine. It’s so over the top and ridiculous that I actually liked it.
The experience was like listening to Savage Garden while downing a Henry Weinhard’s vanilla cream soda with a mouth full of tootsie rolls and pop rocks, all while wearing a full body day glow spandex outfit laced with sequin. The place is a 6-story sugary lollipop that is so decadent that my teeth hurt when I left. To that end, shear stupidity and absolute superficiality sometimes has it’s place in our lives.
I was not allowed to take pictures but I snapped a few off with my camera phone when no one was looking.
I went into this wonderful monstrosity the other day and thoroughly enjoyed myself. We all have our guilty pleasures and as a designer; this is mine. It’s so over the top and ridiculous that I actually liked it.
The experience was like listening to Savage Garden while downing a Henry Weinhard’s vanilla cream soda with a mouth full of tootsie rolls and pop rocks, all while wearing a full body day glow spandex outfit laced with sequin. The place is a 6-story sugary lollipop that is so decadent that my teeth hurt when I left. To that end, shear stupidity and absolute superficiality sometimes has it’s place in our lives.
I was not allowed to take pictures but I snapped a few off with my camera phone when no one was looking.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Big Fish in little Pond or Little Pond with lots of Bigger Fish
Yesterday I had a huge reality check. Well, let me put it in terms that are more honest. “Yesterday, I had a huge reality validation of something that I found out after I moved to China.”
You see prior to moving out here, I thought China was at least 10 years behind the US in everything. In many respects it is, so I thought I would be able to come in and dominate. I thought I would walk into my new office and start kicking ass. I thought that when I walked unto the basketball court (or any sport for that matter) I would push and shove their skinny asses around. Basically, I thought I would own this 2-bit town. Well, about 10% percent of that came to fruition. What I did not expect was the “X-factor”.
You know all those Chinese kids with rich parents that live in Beverly Hills, San Marino, Tiburon, Walnut Creek and every other filthy rich Suburb in the North America; well, they are all here too! They are the X-factor! Not only are they armed with their damned Harvard and Yale MBAs (seriously every frickin’ rich Taiwanese or Shanghainese kid here seems to have gone to Harvard – it is ridiculous!) they also have the cash to back them up. To top it off, it seems like all their parents know someone in the Chinese government. They all got the damn Guanxi!
So back to yesterday, you see, I organize and run a group here called yodeng (young designers networking group). I started this when I first got here because I didn’t know anyone and it was a way to meet, network and get the pulse of the design industry in China. As our groups popularity grew so did our reputation. Since then, several other people and entities trying to tap into the network of designers that we’ve built have approached me. One in particular, GIGA (Green Actions Green Ideas) struck my fancy and we have now collaborated in organizing series of “talks” or lectures on sustainability and more specifically aimed at the grass roots level in China.
The GIGA guys are amazing and there are really no words that I can use to describe their drive and passion. They are involved with so much here in regards to Green design and getting the Chinese government involved that what they have done in such a short time in China has completely blown my mind. What blows my mind even more is the fact that they have embraced me and yodeng to help them bring their agenda to fruition. I mean, yodeng, a group that started (and continued) as few architects and designers going out and having a drink to forget about work. Here we are now having a goal and purpose beyond fun…WTF…but I digress.
With this new GIGA + yodeng marriage I’ve found myself surrounded by so may Type A, obsessive compulsive, Ivy league overachievers that I’m having a huge complex about what I’ve done and accomplished in my life. These kids are amazing! I mean not only are some of them like Carol Chyau co-founder of Ventures in Development and Shokay alleviating poverty with the Tibetan Yak herders but she’s making a ton of cash while doing so. What the hell did I do in my early 20s?
Yesterday, during Carols lecture, I was reminded that I am a not so big fish in a little pond with tons of really ginormous, intelligent and cash rich fish.
You see prior to moving out here, I thought China was at least 10 years behind the US in everything. In many respects it is, so I thought I would be able to come in and dominate. I thought I would walk into my new office and start kicking ass. I thought that when I walked unto the basketball court (or any sport for that matter) I would push and shove their skinny asses around. Basically, I thought I would own this 2-bit town. Well, about 10% percent of that came to fruition. What I did not expect was the “X-factor”.
You know all those Chinese kids with rich parents that live in Beverly Hills, San Marino, Tiburon, Walnut Creek and every other filthy rich Suburb in the North America; well, they are all here too! They are the X-factor! Not only are they armed with their damned Harvard and Yale MBAs (seriously every frickin’ rich Taiwanese or Shanghainese kid here seems to have gone to Harvard – it is ridiculous!) they also have the cash to back them up. To top it off, it seems like all their parents know someone in the Chinese government. They all got the damn Guanxi!
So back to yesterday, you see, I organize and run a group here called yodeng (young designers networking group). I started this when I first got here because I didn’t know anyone and it was a way to meet, network and get the pulse of the design industry in China. As our groups popularity grew so did our reputation. Since then, several other people and entities trying to tap into the network of designers that we’ve built have approached me. One in particular, GIGA (Green Actions Green Ideas) struck my fancy and we have now collaborated in organizing series of “talks” or lectures on sustainability and more specifically aimed at the grass roots level in China.
The GIGA guys are amazing and there are really no words that I can use to describe their drive and passion. They are involved with so much here in regards to Green design and getting the Chinese government involved that what they have done in such a short time in China has completely blown my mind. What blows my mind even more is the fact that they have embraced me and yodeng to help them bring their agenda to fruition. I mean, yodeng, a group that started (and continued) as few architects and designers going out and having a drink to forget about work. Here we are now having a goal and purpose beyond fun…WTF…but I digress.
With this new GIGA + yodeng marriage I’ve found myself surrounded by so may Type A, obsessive compulsive, Ivy league overachievers that I’m having a huge complex about what I’ve done and accomplished in my life. These kids are amazing! I mean not only are some of them like Carol Chyau co-founder of Ventures in Development and Shokay alleviating poverty with the Tibetan Yak herders but she’s making a ton of cash while doing so. What the hell did I do in my early 20s?
Yesterday, during Carols lecture, I was reminded that I am a not so big fish in a little pond with tons of really ginormous, intelligent and cash rich fish.
Friday, March 20, 2009
The Bricklayers
After a 7-month hiatus from any sports related activity due to my ruptured Achilles, I am finally back on the basketball court. This is a picture of the Bricklayers, my basketball team in Shanghai. Just look for the oldest, shortest most out of shape person (and the only one that looks Chinese) and you’ve found me.
We are called the Bricklayers for two reasons. One, we are a team mainly comprised of Architects or architectural graduate students and two…have you seen our jump shot?
Playing basketball here in China has been interesting to say the least. First, they play under the FIBA (International basketball association) which is a totally lame system. Second, the referees suck ass and none of them have ever played the game before in their life. Finally, since I’m the only person that looks Chinese on our team, everyone from the refs to the stats guy talks to me. Ironically, I’m on a team of Americans (and one Belgian) that can all speak Mandarin fluently except for me.
At any rate, the guys are a good bunch and we are having a great time losing our asses in the open division. I think next season I’ll drop down to the recreational league where all the 40 somethings play.
We are called the Bricklayers for two reasons. One, we are a team mainly comprised of Architects or architectural graduate students and two…have you seen our jump shot?
Playing basketball here in China has been interesting to say the least. First, they play under the FIBA (International basketball association) which is a totally lame system. Second, the referees suck ass and none of them have ever played the game before in their life. Finally, since I’m the only person that looks Chinese on our team, everyone from the refs to the stats guy talks to me. Ironically, I’m on a team of Americans (and one Belgian) that can all speak Mandarin fluently except for me.
At any rate, the guys are a good bunch and we are having a great time losing our asses in the open division. I think next season I’ll drop down to the recreational league where all the 40 somethings play.
Architects in Motion
After sitting on my ass for over 7 months, Christina and I decided that we should run the Great Wall Marathon again this year. So I joined a running group called Architects in Motion. They are a great group and we meet every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and sometimes Sunday to train. It’s been good for me because I’m not the kind of person that was built to be a long distance runner nor do I have the discipline to maintain such a rigorous and time-consuming schedule.
It’s been grueling at times. Ryan, the young kid (he’s 26 and I consider anyone under 30 these days to be a kid) is a machine. I’ve met type A and obsessive-compulsive people before but this kid takes the cake. I wish I had his mental fortitude and discipline.
He’s scheduled some amazing runs. Last week we ran through the historic Old Town in Shanghai. Weaving through dark dank and narrow alleyways dodging pots, pans, and everything you can think of including the kitchen sink (there was one in our way at one point) keeps things interesting. Next Saturday he is making everyone take the subway to the last station and run back on an alternative route, which he meticulously selected. This way, he says, we will be forced to run back and not catch a taxi.
As I said, it’s been tough however, the toughest thing isn’t waking up at 5:30 am or the long 32km runs in the freezing cold. The toughest thing about training is getting into the elevator every morning and smelling the scent of freshly baked bread and pastries wafting up the elevator shaft.
You see our new apartment is right over Paul’s, a French Bakery that makes and bakes some of the most amazing confections, deserts and pastries this side of Paris! The temptation to skip the run, the freezing cold, avoid the aching knees, and sore back and to sit inside this haven of flour and dough encompassed by the warmth of the ovens is overwhelming.
As I take my first stride onto the cold crisp polluted air of Shanghai, I look back at the warm glow of the storefront with the bakers dressed in white filling baskets full of freshly baked baguettes and croissants. I can imagine myself sitting in the corner reading the Shanghai Daily sipping on a cup of freshly brewed Kenyan Medium Roast Coffee and taking a bite of a flakey buttery heart-stopping croissant with orange marmalade jam dripping off the side….
…as I turn on Nanjing Xi Road, a bus full of local commuters pass by spewing some god forsaken black gunk from its exhaust that chokes me. Once the fumes are gone, the scent of steamed buns and oil manifest themselves in the air. Thump…thump….thump…my heart rate matches my stride. I forget about Paul’s and I’m off to meet the other Architects in Motion.
It’s been grueling at times. Ryan, the young kid (he’s 26 and I consider anyone under 30 these days to be a kid) is a machine. I’ve met type A and obsessive-compulsive people before but this kid takes the cake. I wish I had his mental fortitude and discipline.
He’s scheduled some amazing runs. Last week we ran through the historic Old Town in Shanghai. Weaving through dark dank and narrow alleyways dodging pots, pans, and everything you can think of including the kitchen sink (there was one in our way at one point) keeps things interesting. Next Saturday he is making everyone take the subway to the last station and run back on an alternative route, which he meticulously selected. This way, he says, we will be forced to run back and not catch a taxi.
As I said, it’s been tough however, the toughest thing isn’t waking up at 5:30 am or the long 32km runs in the freezing cold. The toughest thing about training is getting into the elevator every morning and smelling the scent of freshly baked bread and pastries wafting up the elevator shaft.
You see our new apartment is right over Paul’s, a French Bakery that makes and bakes some of the most amazing confections, deserts and pastries this side of Paris! The temptation to skip the run, the freezing cold, avoid the aching knees, and sore back and to sit inside this haven of flour and dough encompassed by the warmth of the ovens is overwhelming.
As I take my first stride onto the cold crisp polluted air of Shanghai, I look back at the warm glow of the storefront with the bakers dressed in white filling baskets full of freshly baked baguettes and croissants. I can imagine myself sitting in the corner reading the Shanghai Daily sipping on a cup of freshly brewed Kenyan Medium Roast Coffee and taking a bite of a flakey buttery heart-stopping croissant with orange marmalade jam dripping off the side….
…as I turn on Nanjing Xi Road, a bus full of local commuters pass by spewing some god forsaken black gunk from its exhaust that chokes me. Once the fumes are gone, the scent of steamed buns and oil manifest themselves in the air. Thump…thump….thump…my heart rate matches my stride. I forget about Paul’s and I’m off to meet the other Architects in Motion.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Dian Ping Che Ri Ji (Electric Scooter Diaries)
It’s getting cold in Shanghai. It’s so cold that I’m going to have to retire the Dian Ping Che for the winter because it’s way to cold to ride in this weather. I would like to conclude my Dian Ping Che Diary with some of images that I took while riding around Shanghai.
Drive by Shanghai Style
Yesterday I was cruising along on my little scooter when this dude and his girlfriend on and LPG scooter (an LPG scooter is a propane powered ride so it’s a lot faster than my little electric number) rolls up on my left and launches this big fat snot rocket. This big fat lugie just misses me and nails my left fender. I’m like….”what the F-*K!!! But I was so shaken by this that I was frozen for a second. When I finally realized what this jerk off just did, my instincts from the old neighborhood kicked in (LA drive by Shanghai style).
He was about 25 feet ahead of me and pulling away because my “dian ping che” can only go so fast. Anyway, I put the throttle as far back as I could and let Darling Delilah do her thing. I started weaving in and out of bikes and little old ladies chasing this dude. I knew I couldn’t catch him on pure speed but I thought I might have the chance to nail him a stop light.
Up ahead the light turns red and I’m like great…..I got you now sucker! So I start working on a nice one. I pull from the depths of my diaphragm. I pull so hard that it rattles my tongue as I create a vacuum in my esophagus that pulls up this nice juicy mound of yellow/green mucous that mixes nice with my coffee infused saliva. It’s so ripe that my salivary glands start to water.
As I approach him I have this huge smile on my face thinking about the satisfaction I’m going to get by painting the side of his scooter with this wonderful concoction of saliva, mucous and probably some stuff left over from the dumplings I had the night before.
I slowly move in for the kill then right before I’m about to let it fly, he bolts! What! The damn light is still red! Damn you! Now what I do with lump of goo in my mouth? Do I swallow it or chase in down with it swishing around.
I finally decide to waste it and spit it out. Man, that sucks, that was a good one. I lay down the throttle again and the race is on once again. We get caught up in a jam in an intersection and in this mess I somehow end up in front of him. After we leave the intersection we both end up on a straight away and although I can’t see him I can hear him. Unlike my electric scooter which is dead silent, LPG’s make a lot of noise. The sound of his particular scooter was now burned into my subconscious.
He was to my left but a little ways back. I could hear and feel it. I started working on hocking up my second lugie. This time I channeled the frustration of my first loss into this one and pulled up an even nicer one. Along will all the goodies of the first one I think I conjured up some extra particulate matter like nose hairs in this little gem.
I throttled down so he would catch up to me. I could hear the high pitched whining of his LPG and the annoying sounding of his girlfriend yapping incessantly on her cell phone coming ever so close. Closer…closer…closer… I turn left…THWOOP…I let it fly…SPPPLATTT!!! Bullseye…right on the leg!!!! ….Oh shit!....I nailed the wrong guy!
Right before I turned to spit, some old dude on a bicycle came between me and my lugie nemesis! I heard the old dude scream….AYIIIEEE!!! As soon as I realized what happened I banked right into an alley and took off.
I felt terrible but somehow all the anxiety and anger that I had towards that dude was gone. I think I left it on some old dudes pant leg and shoe.
Out there in streets of Shanghai there’s an old dude on a rusty bike with goop dripping off his right pant leg cruising around looking for retribution.
He was about 25 feet ahead of me and pulling away because my “dian ping che” can only go so fast. Anyway, I put the throttle as far back as I could and let Darling Delilah do her thing. I started weaving in and out of bikes and little old ladies chasing this dude. I knew I couldn’t catch him on pure speed but I thought I might have the chance to nail him a stop light.
Up ahead the light turns red and I’m like great…..I got you now sucker! So I start working on a nice one. I pull from the depths of my diaphragm. I pull so hard that it rattles my tongue as I create a vacuum in my esophagus that pulls up this nice juicy mound of yellow/green mucous that mixes nice with my coffee infused saliva. It’s so ripe that my salivary glands start to water.
As I approach him I have this huge smile on my face thinking about the satisfaction I’m going to get by painting the side of his scooter with this wonderful concoction of saliva, mucous and probably some stuff left over from the dumplings I had the night before.
I slowly move in for the kill then right before I’m about to let it fly, he bolts! What! The damn light is still red! Damn you! Now what I do with lump of goo in my mouth? Do I swallow it or chase in down with it swishing around.
I finally decide to waste it and spit it out. Man, that sucks, that was a good one. I lay down the throttle again and the race is on once again. We get caught up in a jam in an intersection and in this mess I somehow end up in front of him. After we leave the intersection we both end up on a straight away and although I can’t see him I can hear him. Unlike my electric scooter which is dead silent, LPG’s make a lot of noise. The sound of his particular scooter was now burned into my subconscious.
He was to my left but a little ways back. I could hear and feel it. I started working on hocking up my second lugie. This time I channeled the frustration of my first loss into this one and pulled up an even nicer one. Along will all the goodies of the first one I think I conjured up some extra particulate matter like nose hairs in this little gem.
I throttled down so he would catch up to me. I could hear the high pitched whining of his LPG and the annoying sounding of his girlfriend yapping incessantly on her cell phone coming ever so close. Closer…closer…closer… I turn left…THWOOP…I let it fly…SPPPLATTT!!! Bullseye…right on the leg!!!! ….Oh shit!....I nailed the wrong guy!
Right before I turned to spit, some old dude on a bicycle came between me and my lugie nemesis! I heard the old dude scream….AYIIIEEE!!! As soon as I realized what happened I banked right into an alley and took off.
I felt terrible but somehow all the anxiety and anger that I had towards that dude was gone. I think I left it on some old dudes pant leg and shoe.
Out there in streets of Shanghai there’s an old dude on a rusty bike with goop dripping off his right pant leg cruising around looking for retribution.
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