My mid-review was a mediocre experience, and in all honesty, my design wasn’t anything extraordinary. However, any feeling of devastation was quickly channeled into desire for improvement and a rush of inspiration.

Parti drawings were always being created. The definition of a project’s “Parti” is always being argued, but it’s a basic idea that can always be referred back to, giving the project a clear focus. Here are a few of my initial drawings:

A lot was learned, but the ultimate product didn’t really translate my excitement and desires well. It is my strong belief that the design process from A to Z shouldn’t be limited or stifled by outside forces like professors when a student already has a sense of process. My tendency is to jump in and look at possible materials first thing. Then think about basic building forms (or shapes). Unfortunately, being forced into a method of design I’m not comfortable with, my building lacked clarity and TLC.

The assignment was very exciting in the beginning. We were to design a 30,000 square foot culinary institute for either downtown Portland or Seattle. First off, we studied both Portland and Seattle on a macro level:

This is a diagram representing the street grids of Portland on the left and Seattle on the right. It was a collaborative effort between my classmates and me. Several more can be found at a website I created for that portion of the project at http://sanssoucidesign.com/pdx/ We studied things like climate, public transportation, traffic, and other details of the city to conjure up inspiration later on in the design process.

We then looked at the immediate neighborhood around our chosen site. My site was located in the Pearl District of downtown Portland. The following graphic shows building forms (or shapes if you don’t subscribe to the pretentious vocabulary we become injected with). Although abstract, the geometries give a “sense” of the surrounding area, allowing us to design a more appropriate building for that neighborhood:

Much love,
Eric

Hastens Bed

Comedian, actor, and musician Jamie Foxx once flowed, “Baby, if we leave the club, won’t be nothing but good lovin’, cause I got a warm bed.” The notion of the warm bed is cliché and familiar enough that it may be unabashedly used for the seduction of some potential lover met in a club. A combination of the implication that Foxx and the woman aren’t familiar with each other, understood via references in the song, and the calmative and tranquilizing hint of his intentions for the night, suggest that the warm bed enchants the masses who have experienced it.

For me, it’s not the laying down at night that charms me, which is probably undervalued. It’s the experience of a morning, typically on the weekends, and typically in the cooler months that constitute my thermal oasis. This involves a combination of things to make for a perfect warm bed experience. My face, as it remains uncovered, stays chilled, especially my nose. I can almost feel the cold draft rolling down from my inefficient windows. But for this moment, that’s just fine.

A down comforter on top and a feather bed under the fitted sheet are ideal for this situation. Running my hand over the sheets and subconsciously noting their appropriate thread count and the benefits of quality fabric softener and washing methods, my opiate receptors are engaged. While supreme comfort and tactile bliss are important, the surrounding elements are ideal in large part for their heat conduction. The natural materials – feathers and cotton – allow my swaddled self to breath, yet still retaining warmth that radiates back on my skin. I will often fish around my bed, eyes closed, for a new pillow. Fully chilled by the cold air and producing an ephemeral, yet delightful sensation with the heat of my face, the frigid pillow helps regulate my facial temperature.

These thermal properties, of course, are only part of the experience. My occasional ability to wake up sans alarm clock and with my body’s own volition is wonderful. With my translucent eyelids, I notice the effulgently gratifying light, peering between my blinds and reflecting infinitely on the white walls, ceiling, and duvet. And so the furious act of coming to is pacified. The global luminescence makes the room feel lighter, almost seeming to give the air more oxygen.

This is my thermal oasis. While it can only realistically last a few minutes, its effects will last all day. The sense of being coddled by my bed, like a good hug or a meaningful kiss, has a transitive power to induce day-long emotional inebriation.