The Face is Red (like a tomato), the bones are weary (like a 121 year old) and the body aches in places unheard of in the annals of medical science.. another weekend snowboarding. Bu suggests to me that I ought to be putting more weight on my heel rather than my toe.. a new concept in snowboarding for me.. looking down when all this time I have been snowboarding looking up!.. I work at the Change.. but the mind is conditioned for something else.. it is all Physiological Chien shouts.. and Voila!.. it is!.. how amazing that the mind still controls the body in the most physical of exercises.. the moment the mind gets an inkling of Fear.. we are undone.. the result of course is Pain. Pain.. such a wonderful Elixir to make one realize that the Body is still Alive and kicking.. specially when it comes with the thrill of the snow, the wind, the definitely more than 46 degree incline and the sun (thus the tomato face). In a City where the body is abused more than used (and I would argue the same for the Mind as well), it held the same orgasmic delight as a Baked Alaska, a garam aloo partha, a cognac aged a million years.. I can just hear it now.. those voices out there suggesting that the daily trip to my gym is obviously jading me to the real trips in the world.. a mountain climbed.. a shipwreck discovered..
Who has the Might has the Right.. the End shall justify the Means.. the same thought in varied languages.. the world appears to have moved on from a sense of Right to a sense of Might (or has it always been this way).. since the Mighty always dictated the Right?.. and the result now is of course that middle class morality dictates the Right.. the Mighty have since transferred this cloak to them, confident that they will wear it (even though it is in taters) as a garment of some sacreditude. The mighty play their games and move the pawns.. untouched and unblemished on their own.. and the legions answer.
I would have thought that a country besieged would act differently.. but it is curious to see us all planning and plotting like there is a Tomorrow.. it is a confidence built of Might and Right.. a dangerous juxtaposition if there ever was one.
A little bit of pre spring cleaning in this ten foot by ten foot slice of air I call my home in the City. I find myself unable to discard memories that are long gone and ought to be swept away. They have been under the carpet so long they have become one with it, working their way into its patterns.. maybe that is why One finds Oneself unable to get rid of them.. they are patterns that one are so used to, throwing them away would change Life itself.. and heaven forbid we have more of those.. they are almost like a comfort or a pain one has indulged in and cannot let go.
Enough of this though.. let me fill you in with my little pleasures.. my architecture projects are off the ground.. what can I say.. they are vibrant, alive and full of every feeling that one ought to experience in a lifetime. The lot of the Architect is to go through these mini lives throughout their lives. My wonderful Lobby progresses.. the stone as at the port from
Our chimera’s keep us awake and Alive.. to do what has not been done.. to undo what has been Done and do it Different.. and repeat and relive in the process all the passions and emotions lived before. it is great Cycle.. and one would hope we live it Well..
La chaim..
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