Dear readers, you must know, as my close friends and kin know; know only so well, that your host suffers from the occasional bout of melancholy. Sometimes just a gentle, easy, sadness. You know that kind of sadness. Like that time a good friend, a long-time friend, had moved to Cleveland a couple of years ago and hadn’t returned your call you made to him yesterday.
You know he’ll call, and you expect the call anytime. Friend just hasn’t called yet and it’s sad. “Why’d he leave” you ask yourself? We used to have fun, you know, do stuff together. And over the months, now two years, (what happens to the time?) the communication that used to be an excited, animated phone call, then the email, an occasional card now and then, birthday-that sort of thing; and now – just a funny cat video last week (saddest part being you’ve seen that video like ten times from other people). So when you get the email with the cat video – you just feel cheap.
Another kind of sad is the stupidly self-induced case of the blues. Like when you’re blogging on Saturday night late, wife at work, home alone and you start drinking when you’ve already been drinking; so now you’re drinking too much and you wake up Sunday morning hung-over; but since you rocked the snark on all those internet dumbos last night – you’re also mildly manic. Uhuh. And you start over on Sunday. Manic and hungover. I hate that feeling. Cause know what? Come Monday, whoee, you gonna be in sad shape.
And then there’s a very particular kind of sad specific to various professions, or jobs. http://www.newhealthguide.org/Highest-Suicide-Rate-By-Profession.html
This suggests that different kind of work, cause unique shades of blue. I know that as a design professional and self-appointed cowboy poet, some things get to me, that most other people aren’t bothered by…
Hey, hold on just one minute it’s my phone….
It was my pal from Cleveland! He hasn’t been talking to me much because for the last year he’s fallen head over heels in love (and he knew I talk him out of it!). She’s a beautiful orphan, no kids, and fabulously wealthy! They’re driving out from Cleveland in her Porsche 918 Spyder.
She paid cash for it, hates to carry a balance, they want to meet me in San Diego for the wedding; want me to be the best man if I can get over my natural shyness long enough to roast the groom, propose the toasts, and recite cowboy poetry in German at the reception!
That just blew my blues away!
And speaking of drinking… I’ll just cut back and chill out! There. Fixed. I’m a new man!
Technical stuff causing the blues; you just have to solve the problem – and I have to admit that once said problem is solved, you get a tremendous rush – like reciting German cowboy poetry in at a wedding reception; but different.
And know what? I’m on my way solving a huge problem that has been bugging the crap out of me, for like forever:
Ergo, What will the architecture look like on Mars 300 years after we colonize the red planet?
I can’t stand it when I don’t know stuff like this. Bugs you too? I just knew it.
I think I found out. I think looks like this:
I feel much better! Zaha Hadid designed this and has to be, if not the hottest design mind on the planet; then awfully close; maybe second, and if she’s second, you need to let me know who’s first.
When I look at her stuff, and I highly recommend you check it out, it feels like my brain turns into some kind of weird fifth dimensional putty and I’m transported to another world. Stuff would look great on Mars; and it looks great here.
She and her architectural office are super-busy winning every ginormous architectural competition and project in the solar-system right now so you need to know about her and her work. She’s a superstar. She’s a native of Iraq, living now in London I believe.
Marvel at her genius – it will drive your blues away.
Well, I got to go, but check out Zaha. I’d better get to work on that German cowboy poetry…Let’s see…
Als ich ging in den Strassen von Laredo…
Heydar Aliyev Centre Building
Heydar Aliyev Centre, Baku, Azerbaijan
Design: Zaha Hadid Architects