Sometimes I think I should have studied art instead of architecture. I certainly believe that I think and communicate more like an art student than an architect. Perhaps it would have been easier. (By that word I mean a more conducive environment in which to “flower,” not that it is an easy major to study. Don’t get upset with me, art majors.)

But while those thoughts occur, I know their line of reasoning is precisely why I chose architecture over art. There are plenty of amazing artists out there creating moments of beauty already, but quite often our built environment is devoid of such visual poetics. It is in our built environment that we live, eat, and breathe- it is more than a moment. A place of utmost importance such as the space around us ought to not only function well, but also nurture us into better, happier people. Too often builders, developers, and even architects stop after the “function well” part of that last sentence. With my career, I want to ensure that the rest of the sentence reaches fulfillment as often as possible.

That is reason enough to stay in the world of architecture, even if I sometimes feel the “odd fit.”

Yesterday I had a critique in my studio. We divided into groups of four on Monday, and had to develop a concept to pursue in developing our studio site by our weekly Wednesday pinup. Our professor is a stickler for concept, and although I consider that to be one of my strengths as a designer, I still went to bed very nervous about my particular group’s work on Tuesday night. At the time, I felt like we had developed a very nice set of ideals of how we wanted our design to look and feel, but no overriding concept that would determine the rule set for how those ideals are met. It turned out that I was over worrying (not uncommon), and as we all discussed the designs in pinup, a strong concept emerged. The idea was actually one we had discussed early and was something I had felt a strong voice in at the time, but had since forgotten underneath the stress that is fast track group creative work.

I think the speed at which studio must move in a term system is perhaps one of my largest qualms with my current education. I can’t even imagine how different my creative development would have been if my undergraduate program had been a term system instead of semesters as well. I feel it probably would have been much more stunted, simply because of how much of a struggle it can be to get into the groove of good creative conceptual development. Had I not had the time as an undergraduate to wrestle with the same topic for as long as I did, I wonder how long it would have taken me to learn to discern a concept with potential from those without, and then learn how to develop it appropriately. When you are learning that discernment process, 10 weeks is simply not enough to crash and burn on a bad design move.

I am glad the critique went well, and perhaps with the entire week (gasp!) that we have to develop our idea further for the next pinup, perhaps I can go to bed the night before unstressed (probably not).

I drove out to Crater Lake today. It was my goal to get there before the end of the summer, before it gets snowed in for the winter. I think I barely made it.

The lake was, of course, astoundingly beautiful, as was the drive through the Umpqua National Forest on the way there and back. It is access to places like this that make me glad to live in Oregon. On the east coast, at least the area which I am from, much of the original landscape is eaten up with strip mall sprawl. To truly get out into the wilderness, you have to drive for hours, not just 30 minutes. Even then, the eastern landscapes still show the signs of pollution.

One of the greatest issues I have with wanting to be an architect is that often I am involved with directly scarring new places on the earth. But what, you say, what about sustainable building? Doesn’t it save the land? It definitely contributes to a better built environment and it makes many people feel better about their actions in this chain of new construction, but in the end you are often still putting a building where there was not one before, and taking those materials from somewhere. And I always have to ask, do we really need that building? Are there not plenty of abandoned buildings and already scarred sites out there? Why do we need to sprawl out any more? Is it just because we can?

I am not sure I will ever truly resolve this argument with myself, since I feel the same urge, like all other architects, to build anew. I applaud green building in its ability to at least make what we build better, even if it still is building. I applaud louder for those who are addressing our already built environment and are encouraging its continued use and bringing it up to better environmental standards. Maybe someday our overall built environment, and not just recent construction, can be something we can be proud of.