See Earlier Post "​​March Update - Part 1" for Text Description.
I have been obsessed with integrals recently (speed, velocity, acceleration), (loading, shear, bending). I've been trying to understand the architectural profession today through its lens. Here's my draft so far:  

"Early Sunday Morning" (1930), Edward Hopper

 At the time of this writing, I will have been in quarantine for a month. I just wrapped up an independent competition I have been doing with some friends of mine - the Brooklyn Bridge Pedestrian Competition. I also received my Architect's seal from Massachusetts at the start of the month. I'm proud of my accomplishments, but I'm more impressed by the relationships and connections I've made from them. Now it's back to the primary goals -- surviving the pandemic, and finding a new gig.

Most importantly, transitioning into "Level 3" of the architecture hierarchy -- Codes and Systems. 

I've noticed that CEO's on social media have been posting a lot of commentary about their "reflections", during this time of quarantine. Indeed, it does feel like everyone has been taking a much-needed "pause" from normal life -- and that of a booming, supposedly forever expanding economy. No more intense hustling, no more to-go meals, no more mindless bar hopping and speed dating. There's been an immense amount of introspection and self reflection -- about one's own life, but also that of society. 

I think the saddest thing about quarantines, or recessions in general, is that it makes you realize how GOOD we had it before --- that in fact, the past decade or so had been a relatively peaceful, abundant time, even amid rising inequality. Problems that seemed so prescient before -- bigger salaries, better jobs, better vacations, better bodies, et cetera -- don't seem to hold up against the problems of today -- how to pay the bills, get enough food, and stay healthy. It seems more like a global call to return to fundamentals, both for the self and for the economy at large. What is truly important, to you and your community? What makes you feel alive?

For me, I've been having much better conversations with friends and family, even my roommates. I've enjoyed eating food a lot more, especially the taste of essential goods like rice and carrots. A lot of stresses and anxieties that seemed so important, barely a year ago, are suddenly meaningless. Since moving to New York, and experiencing the life and society here, I've noticed there's a lot of stuff out there I don't really much care about. 

Over the past two years, I've had to get a lot of emotional and mental clutter out of my system. I had to run off to China, to figure things out. I had to "conquer New York", whatever that means. I had to finish my exams, if only to close my architecture education, and to live up to Cornell's expectations, which will honestly be never met, at least in the way Cornell wants its students to. I had to be left alone, I had to learn how to manage people, I had to learn how to survive corporations. The biggest lessons, by far, are how to be a better person, and how to be a more competent person. 

The biggest single driver of my career, by far, is the opportunity to do better and more coherent work. That is my guiding light, and it's been the one thing that keeps me going. What I've learned in New York is that "doing better work" means also improving my soft skills, in addition to constantly learning about difficult technical skills. This means taking calculated risks. This means doing the difficult things. This means working a lot and constantly learning new things, because there's no such thing as "cruising" on past success. This means constant self reflection. Whenever I say, or think, that my work is not important, I am lying to myself.

If there's always a better way to do something, then there is always work. There is always something to investigate, to design, to propose, to launch, to defend, to deal with BS for. With this principle in mind, I will never be unemployed. I will never be non-essential. 

My secondary motivation is the opportunity to spend time, and work with, friends. My friends make me better, and they are a big part of my life. I will never let any relationship get in the way of that. When everything else has failed, you have nothing to lean back on, besides your friends. Building projects and companies are really fun, but it seems to be hollow without friends and family. I need to spend more time cultivating these relationships, no matter where I am, no matter how busy I am. 

My third motivation, or realization, is that, at the very core, I am OK with my place as long as the first two motivations are met. I don't have many possessions, and I have no strong desire to "win" the economy. What I do have a strong desire for is to do better work, wherever that takes me, and no matter how long it will take. I hope this ultimately results in economic success, but looking at the odds I can't promise that for myself. I would probably be better off aiming for a future where I do better work, and this leads me to have better relationships. And that's what I will do. 

People over Money, because when push comes to shove, money can't save you, but people will not only save, but love, you. 

One of the best things about studying architecture is that you gain the ability to time travel. When you know and understand the history of buildings and places, you can escape to them whenever. You can go to Renaissance Rome, Bella Epoque Paris, Beaux Arts Chicago, 1990's Japan. You can interpret, through old facades and fading cornices, what life was like for people, and what was the dynamism of the age. With architecture, you understand when places and people were doing really innovative things, like the first skyscrapers, or boulevards, or metabolic cities. It becomes a tangible voyage through history, in your mind. The only sad part is when you start thinking that, nothing of this era compares to those (maybe China). 

Readers of this blog probably know that I have a great affinity to 1890's Chicago -- to me, that era was the birth of everything I liked about architecture: beautiful tall buildings, thoughtful urban planning, and an industrial-commercial city on the rise on the great prairie. Another comparable place and time would probably be 2010's Shanghai, or 1960's Hong Kong. 

As I sit here in quarantine, eating my quarantine rice and beans, drying my clothes indoors, and stuck inside a small Manhattan apartment, I imagine living in 1960's Hong Kong -- also stuck in a small apartment, thinking about life and the future. I open the window, not to find a quarantined New York, but a bustling, thriving Asian city. Radio playing the songs of Cantonese singers. There would be constant news about the flood of migrants from Red China, rushing to come to this relatively free city, run by a fading European empire. Out on the street would be a cacophony of billboards and signs, clothes on clothes racks, trams and rickshaws running about. There would be women playing mahjong, children playing soccer in alleyways, men smoking on makeshift tables. I would hear about white westerners, these wealthy Brits and Americans who lived in the hills, opening factories left and right, sending goods and products to far away places like Tokyo, New York, and London. At the movie theaters, Bruce Lee would start making his action films, about how a small Chinese man can defeat his enemies and adversity through strength and discipline, and I would cheer. Out on the main harbor, there would be unceasing construction work, and buildings racing into the sky, 30, 40 stories tall, much taller than the diaolou of the old country. And year after year, it seemed like life was getting better - suddenly there was air conditioning, refrigerators, and big department stores and escalators. Slowly and surely, the government would release public housing in the Northern Territories, and people can generally afford to buy their own place, go on weekend dates, and maybe get promoted to manager from the factory floors. There would always be distant rumblings, of faraway westerners waging war, or nuclear annihilation, and sending men into space --- but I wouldn't be bothered. Life is short, the city is beautiful -- and what more do I want, than the occasional weekend dim sum with some colleagues, go on some dates, and maybe save up to get out of this small apartment in Sheung Wan? Maybe I'll learn some English, and finally get a chance to visit the capital: London. For now, I'll just enjoy this night breeze, and gaze upon this magnificent, mad, and crowded city.