Sometimes I love school

I have bunch of essays due tomorrow, and even though I’m kind of stressed out because I have a lot to write, I’m enjoying figuring out what the hell I want to say.

Here is something that I just read from Mark Childs about public space and the theories of the commons:

…

“Conflicts may easily arise when participants use similar terms to refer to differing concepts, and when goals based on one theoretical base are not recognized, understood, or valued by those invested in other theories.  Moreover, theories are frequently taken predictive beyond their kin.

Nevertheless, the breadth of inquiry into the nature if the commons points to its potential power in defining who we are.  If various viewpoints are clarified, the dialog between them may help bring rich naunce to the process and products of design, and also may help clarify the interactions between physical design and social form – between urbanitas and civitas.

‘Knowledge…is not a series of self-consistent theories that converges toward an ideal view…It is rather an ever increasing ocean of mutually incompatible(and perhaps even imcommensurable) alternatives, each single theory, each fairy tale, each myth that is a part of the collection forcing the others into greater articulation and contributing…to the development of our consciousness’(Feyerabend 1975:30)”

yeah…I’m a nerd.

It is not 7 pm

So, my final review went well.  Way way way better than expected…considering the fact that my project was about half finished (on paper).  The jury was a perfect end to a long beginning.  This is cheesy, but it really was that moment when everything, all of the sudden just clicked and suddenly, it was okay that I had just put myself through nearly 8 months of agony.  Only 8 more days to go (and 2 years after that).  But first I have to write a paper…

and stop reading my diagrams like Ouija boards

and make floor plans

and find something in between boring and messy

and obviosly not forget about the human scale

okay…back to Jean Nouvel and Richard Sennett and somehow fitting identity and and theatrical space and the role of the actor and the audience and the city into 3000 words…by noon….