Friday, May 16, 2008

Naufragada


A few years ago, I wasn't happy with my job. I felt like I could be doing so much more...that I could be creative in my work. I wasn't being given that opportunity and I started thinking about all the things I had ever considered doing "when I grew up"...so I started looking at graduate programs. Programs in Architectural History, Art History, Museum Studies, Architecture, Education, Museum Education, Art Education...etc etc etc.
I finally narrowed it down to a few choices, University of Virginia or SCAD for Architectural History...Bank Street College of Education for Museum Education ...or Taliesin / Taliesin West for Architecture.
Last month I was in Scottsdale, AZ visiting with friends. On our last full day in Scottsdale and with half of our group gone...the remaining 3 went to Taliesin West. It was magnificent to get a glimpse into what might have been.
Our guide, a former "apprentice" at Taliesin told us about how first year students live in the desert in a tent. He showed us a picture similar to this one and pointed to these small white tents in the desert. A small slab of concrete...and some wood poles and canvas. He told us how on your first night you start to think like an architect because you immediately tried to figure out ways to make your living space more comfortable. The next day new students start working on improvements to their homes in the desert.
So I thought about it. Mine would have turned my tent into a sailboat. I would have painted the canvas like the sails of a boat, and made the interior feel like we were on a boat near a beach. I appropriately would have called my home, "Naufragada"...after all what else would you call a Latin beach girl living in the middle of the desert?
...here's to you "Naufragada"...my little home in the desert that never was.

RIP Bobby 1925-2008


Oh Robert...Bobby Bobby Bobby...how do I love thee, let me count the ways.
I loved you for "monogram" and the way you made that animal look at me with a tire around it's body.
I loved you for creepy birds who stare at me...I loved you for beds and silk screens of JFK....I loved you for shinny things, torn things and splattered things.
I am so happy I had you in my life. The way you greeted me through a slide projector in a dark room. The way you smiled when I walked into your gallery. Not too many have made me feel so special.
You'll be missed my darling Bobby.