the band is back.

This time fully enjoying cozy corners.

"cozy corners."

I nearly got kicked out of architecture school for questioning the likes of Christopher Alexander and his manifesto of modular coziness. My teachers were his students. Christopher Alexander wrote a text called Pattern Language which defines a series of architectural moments meant to be pieced together to create universal 'comfort'. I always questioned the arrogance of attempting to define my experience in such a specific and dogmatic way. Architecture is arrogant by nature but this 'style' was created under the pretense of being completely democratic, nuts and berries style. In my (somewhat) humble opinion, corners clad in wood with six foot ceilings were a righteous and potentially dangerous interpretation of democracy. Twenty six foot ceilings and white walls leave much more space for negotiation. So much space that I have nearly lost friends in my living room. "Do you have something against comfortable chairs?". Just to prove my friends wrong, and to be able to invite them for tea, I have worked on this corner. Maybe I learned a thing or two from Chris after all.

Eat your beans.

Just don't take them for granted. I decided to work for my dinner tonight, just to make sure I am fully appreciating the effort behind the ingredients before they are refried. When I asked Ralf Swenson Jr. what needed to be done around the place he didn't hesitate. The black beans were an experiment and they needed to be harvested a.s.a.p. When I was given a tiny container I thought maybe Ralf Sr. was mocking me. He said it would hold a pound. That quart of beans took me over an hour to pick and shell, and I didn't move a foot. My hourly rate is generally pretty high, I am treating these beans better than I do my stash of scrap gold.

Canadians also swim.

Despite popular myth, we Canadians are not born with an extra layer of insulation. Cold is cold. It is the end of the season but my visiting family still braved the chilly water.
I would like to keep this new spot quiet for special guests, hopefully these rocks aren't too recognizable.

Red Hot Ballroom

My good friend and fairy godchild, Dexter, has moved home to Canada. Before Dexter left he needed to prove that even Canadians can dance. He was a finalist in the tango representing P.S.58. Watch for the swing hair flip.

meet Ralf Swenson.

Ralf Sr. might be my life hero. He makes the impossibly romantic notion of farm life seem possible. This is a man who sparkles. You never catch Ralf without a charming grin unless he is about to try and pull a fast one on you. His rosy cheeks and inspiring optimism may be because he eats fresh cut spinach and new eggs for breakfast each morning, but it seems more likely that the sparkle comes from his relentless life passion. He has a hard life I imagine, the kind of hard it takes to maintain a small boutique farm in a pretty uncompromising climate. The Swenson farm was passed to him by his father and was one of the first in the state to be certified organic. This farm did not become organic, it just never became anything else. When I go to pick up my stash every few days, Ralf Sr. always attempts to introduce me to a new culinary experience straight from the ground. Each time he picks something for me it is done with the care and enthusiasm as if were his first time.

local architecture