Klein Bottle House, Rye, Mornington Peninsula. Australia. Por McBride-Charles-Ryan

"The Klein bottle is a descriptive model of a surface developed by topological mathematicians... ...The surfaces that mathematicians have developed hold intrigue for architects as they hold a promise of new spatial relationships and configurations. Technology (CAD) has played an important part in all this, it is now more possible to efficiently describe more complex shapes and spaces and communicate these to the build. Previously the more orthogonal means of communication – plans, sections and elevations naturally encourage buildings which are more easily described in these terms, i.e. boxes... This holiday house is situated on the Mornington Peninsula 1.5 hrs drive from Melbourne. It is located within the tee–tree on the sand dunes, a short distance from the wild 16th beach. From the outset MCR wanted a building that nestled within the tree line. That talked about journey and the playfulness of holiday time. What began as a spiral or shell like building developed into a more complex spiral, the Klein bottle. MCR were keen to be topologically true to the Klein bottle but it had to function as a home. We thought an origami version of the bottle would be achievable and hold some ironic fascination.... The house revolves around a central courtyard, a grand regal stair connecting all the levels. There is a sense of both being near and far to all occupants. Its endless, curling shell-like quality particularly in the tee tree brings about a comforting togetherness..."

Materials
Exterior: Metal sheet, Lysaght ‘Cladding Profile’ Night Sky / Fibre Cement Sheet/ ‘Pomegranate’
Tretford Carpet / Bamboo Veneer (BT Bamboo, Eco Flooring Systems P/L)/ White Signorino Tiles/
Glass Mosaic Tile/ Paint colours: Elephant, Antique White 50%, Pearl Ash, Red Clown, Spanish Olive, and Black

Via: Materalicio.us, Mc Bride Charles Ryan

In mathematics, the Klein bottle is a certain non-orientable surface, i.e., a surface (a two-dimensional topological space) with no distinct "inner" and "outer" sides. Other related non-orientable objects include the Möbius strip and the real projective plane. Whereas a Möbius strip is a two dimensional object with one side and one edge, a Klein bottle is a three dimensional object with one side and no edges....The Klein bottle was first described in 1882 by the German mathematician Felix Klein...

Wikipedia

80 windows

Hoy me acuerdo de esta canción y de algo que escribía hace mucho tiempo, re-citando unas palabras de Neruda...

"...Hoy otra vez, como siempre,
suena, resuena el mar lejano.
Dentro de mi, como nunca.
Hoy su sonido es el de tus pies,
arañando la arena que dejaste en mí.
Hoy nostalgia de días esbeltos..."

Lo escribía en una playa en Mojácar y aunque pareciera que me sentía triste, en realidad me sentía feliz como nunca. Para la mayor parte de la gente la nostalgia funciona hacia atrás sólamente; es un camino que nos lleva algún cruce del pasado. Yo a veces siento nostalgia del futuro. Me siento en esta encrucijada en la que estoy hoy, y miro hacia delante y hacia los lados, soy capaz de imaginar caminos que se cruzan, caminos que aun no hemos tomado y se que adentrarme en uno es renunciar a la belleza de otro. Es esa nostalgia. Y sentí algo parecido cuando me asome a estas 80 ventanas de Nada Surf..

Clusters of people talking secretly to each other.

In a bar you cannot talk openly to anyone you don't already know.
4 year olds, they have got the right idea: they jump the line and hit it on the nose.
When we sit and we get quiet, then we look and see who's home.
Across the way there are 80 windows we can see,
It's christmastime and they all have the same tree.
You tell me the patterns you already see,
I wonder if they see us in our bed.
You said you like the one with the father who always eats with his son.
I like the rows of lights because they keep me calm.
I feel far away from you. so what else is new?
The moon is closer to the sun than i am to anyone.

"Listen people, wherever you are,
Please attend to this words:
Will your youth last forever?
Will your white hair turn black again?
Life speeds by like a dream,
Why not fill each minute with joy?"

(Traducción al inglés de un antiguo poema "Sijo")
Kim Ch'on-taek (1725-1766)

One Day Pavillion, por Jiyeon Song. ACD, Pasadena, California.

"...the results of an extensive exploration with shadows, the One Day Poem Pavilion demonstrates the poetic, transitory, site-sensitive and time-based nature of light and shadow.
Using a complex array of perforations, the pavilion’s surface allows light to pass through creating shifting patterns, which–during specific times of the year–transform into the legible text of a poem. The specific arrangements of the perforations reveal different shadow-poems according to the solar calendar: a theme of new-life during the summer solstice, a reflection on the passing of time at the period of the winter solstice. The time-based nature of the poem–and the visitor’s time-based encounters with it–allow viewers to have different experiences either seeing a stanza of the poem or getting the whole poem. All of these possible experiences are equally valuable and have meanings unique to the individual. This technique has the potential for producing particular effects and meanings within an architectural environment. Without the use of a source of power other than the sun, this project uses light and shadow to push the boundaries of communication and experiential delight..."

Imágenes y texto tomados de One Day Poem Pavillion Site y del portfolio de Jiyeon Song en la Escuela de Bellas Artes de Pasadena, California.

Jeffrey Lewis - 'Williamsburg Will Oldham Horror'

El sexto sentido de Adrian Chen y el sexo asilvestrado.

Adrian Chen es un tipo muy divertido. Podeís encontarlo en World Of Today. org
El caso es que entre otras cosas tienen un don/maldición... bueno.. que os lo cuente él...

ABOUT ME: My Sixth Sense

“I see dead…oh. ew.”

According to scientists, there are five senses: Taste, touch, sight, women’s intuition and feel. As for me, I’m both blessed and cursed with a sixth sense: The sense of knowing if someone has masturbated in a room simply by stepping into it.

It comes on first as a faint, white specter hanging about the room. A presence. Then it sharpens slowly and rhythmically into a distinct feeling of needing to wash my hands. The feeling keeps intensifying, welling up inside of me. Up. Up. Up. Finally, it washes uncontrollably over me. I see women, children, politicians, pilgrims, prehistoric American Indians, the first humans. All masturbating. I can see their grimacing faces, the damp palms, the bunched tissue paper, the crinkled Penthouse or, in the case of the American Indians, the crude pornography scratched onto birch bark or deer hide. It is a threesome. Two men and a women–or is it the other way around? Who knows. The images are already gone. But in that short moment, I will have learned more about these ancient masturbators than even their wives or children or archaeologists could ever know.

But like I said, this gift is also a curse. For one thing, my sixth sense means that I have to avoid certain places: Public highschools and libraries, men’s locker rooms and the entire state of West Virginia. In these places, the overwhelming power of millions of masturbators past would just be too much to handle. Once, I had to leave a tour of the Whitehouse early because I was so disturbed by the image of Lincoln jacking off into a chamberpot while whistling “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”, a polished mahogany crutch supporting his massive log.

My sixth sense is a pain sometimes, sure. But if I had to be born all over again, I don’t think I would change a thing. See, I never had many friends growing up. I spent hours alone in my room playing with Legos, but I never felt lonely. I always had constant companionship in the sweat-stained faces of the thousands that had once stopped there–however briefly–to masturbate.

Adrian Chen. World Of Today. org

...jaja. No es muy divertido? El caso es que, dada mi congénita tendencia a visualizar las cosas, no he podido evitar imaginarmelo todo en una suerte de thriller porno-humorístico. ¿Por qué no se hacen películas con todo el rango de emociones y actividades humanas incluido el sexo? Me he acordado de películas como 9 songs, Shortbus o Intimacy. Pero en todas ellas el sexo y su papel en las relaciones interpersonales es el tema fundamental, así esta justificado su uso explícito. Me refería más bien a incorporarlo a un thriller o una comedia o un musical... como la vida misma. (En ciertos aspectos) estamos taaan civilizados... asilvestrémonos un poco, por favor!

"Dear Architects, I am sick of your shit", open letter by Annie Choi

Once, a long time ago in the days of yore, I had a friend who was studying architecture to become, presumably, an architect.
This friend introduced me to other friends, who were also studying architecture. Then these friends had other friends who were architects - real architects doing real architecture like designing luxury condos that look a lot like glass dildos. And these real architects knew other real architects and now the only people I know are architects. And they all design glass dildos that I will never work or live in and serve only to obstruct my view of New Jersey.

Do not get me wrong, architects. I like you as a person. I think you are nice, smell good most of the time, and I like your glasses. You have crazy hair, and if you are lucky, most of it is on your head. But I do not care about architecture. It is true. This is what I do care about:

* burritos
* hedgehogs
* coffee

As you can see, architecture is not on the list. I believe that architecture falls somewhere between toenail fungus and invasive colonoscopy in the list of things that interest me.

Perhaps if you didn’t talk about it so much, I would be more interested. When you point to a glass cylinder and say proudly, hey my office designed that, I giggle and say it looks like a bong. You turn your head in disgust and shame. You think, obviously she does not understand. What does she know? She is just a writer. She is no architect. She respects vowels, not glass cocks. And then you say now I am designing a lifestyle center, and I ask what is that, and you say it is a place that offers goods and services and retail opportunities and I say you mean like a mall and you say no. It is a lifestyle center. I say it sounds like a mall. I am from the Valley, bitch. I know malls.

Architects, I will not lie, you confuse me. You work sixty, eighty hours a week and yet you are always poor. Why aren’t you buying me a drink? Where is your bounty of riches? Maybe you spent it on merlot. Maybe you spent it on hookers and blow. I cannot be sure. It is a mystery. I will leave that to the scientists to figure out.

Architects love to discuss how much sleep they have gotten. One will say how he was at the studio until five in the morning, only to return again two hours later. Then another will say, oh that is nothing. I haven’t slept in a week. And then another will say, guess what, I have never slept ever. My dear architects, the measure of how hard you’ve worked and how much you’ve accomplished is not related to the number of hours you have not slept. Have you heard of Rem Koolhaas? He is a famous architect. I know this because you tell me he is a famous architect. I hear that Rem Koolhaas is always sleeping. He is, I presume, sleeping right now. And I hear he gets shit done. And I also hear that in a stunning move, he is making a building that looks not like a glass cock, but like a concrete vagina. When you sleep more, you get vagina. You can all take a lesson from Rem Koolhaas.

Life is hard for me, please understand. Architects are an important part of my existence. They call me at eleven at night and say they just got off work, am I hungry? Listen, it is practically midnight. I ate hours ago. So long ago that, in fact, I am hungry again. So yes, I will go. Then I will go and there will be other architects talking about AutoCAD shortcuts and something about electric panels and can you believe that is all I did today, what a drag. I look around the table at the poor, tired, and hungry, and think to myself, I have but only one bullet left in the gun. Who will I choose?

I have a friend who is a doctor. He gives me drugs. I enjoy them. I have a friend who is a lawyer. He helped me sue my landlord. My architect friends have given me nothing. No drugs, no medical advice, and they don’t know how to spell subpoena. One architect friend figured out that my apartment was one hundred and eighty seven square feet. That was nice. Thanks for that.

I suppose one could ask what someone like me brings to architects like yourselves. I bring cheer. I yell at architects when they start talking about architecture. I force them to discuss far more interesting topics, like turkey eggs. Why do we eat chicken eggs, but not turkey eggs? They are bigger. And people really like turkey. See? I am not afraid to ask the tough questions.

So, dear architects, I will stick around, for only a little while. I hope that one day some of you will become doctors and lawyers or will figure out my taxes. And we will laugh at the days when you spent the entire evening talking about some European you’ve never met who designed a building you will never see because you are too busy working on something that will never get built. But even if that day doesn’t arrive, give me a call anyway, I am free.

Yours truly,
Annie Choi

(Tomado del blog: PartIV )

(Publicado originalmente en la edición impresa de: Pidgin )

Venus in furs (1967)

...a veces vuelvo a escuchar mis discos antiguos y pienso: ey, por qué estás empeñado en encontrar siempre una canción nueva, aun por descubrir, cuando ya existe esta y es sencillamente perfecta. Con Velvet Underground me suele pasar! Supongo que es inevitable, que es ley de vida...ver, escuchar, sentir...lo que aun no has visto, lo que aun no has escuchado, lo que aun no has sentido...creo que lo llaman deseo...

"Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Clubs and bells, your servant, dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Downy sins of streetlight fancies
Chase the costumes she shall wear
Ermine furs adorn the imperious
Severin*, severin awaits you there

I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears

Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather
Shiny leather in the dark
Tongue of thongs, the belt that does await you
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Severin, severin, speak so slightly
Severin, down on your bended knee
Taste the whip, in love not given lightly
Taste the whip, now plead for me

I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears

Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Severin, your servant comes in bells, please dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart"

* Severin es el alter ego de Leopold Sacher-Masoch, en su obra maestra: "Venus in furs".

Yin Meets Yang

Me encanta esta canción. Una mas en la lista de delicias de Hooverphonic, podría aburrirte con ellas, ¿verdad reymono? Por cierto, ni mucho menos es mi favorita. Pero hoy viene al caso. Está extraida de un album llamado "Hooverphonic Presents Jackie Cane" El album cuenta la historia (ficticia) de Jackie Cane. Una gran estrella de la canción que para serlo ha dejado abandonada a su hermana gemela. A lo largo del disco Jackie descubre que su vida es incompleta sin su hermana y decide volver a reunirse con ella. Lo hace, pero su hermana asustada por la idea de volver a separarse decide envenenarse junto a ella en la canción "last supper". Terminan besandose en "kiss" mientras acaba el disco. Shakespeare en estado puro, ¿no?
Pero siempre que escucho esta canción me imagino algo menos trágico. Me imagino que su hermana gemela es esa parte de nosotros que dejamos atras, sin querer, persiguiendo nuestros sueños. Y me imagino mirando atrás para reunirme con ella. Luego la abandonaré como tantas otras veces. Pero, ahora, otra vez, somos "uno".

P.S.:
-Si notais desgana y poco cuidado en los últimos posts, es que estamos muy ocupados. ¿Verdad reymono?
-Absolutamente Kidangel...muy ocupados y sin tiempo para escribir con la suficiente intención. Y será así una temporadita (sic)

Drifters

Moon River, wider than a mile,
I'm crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you're going I'm going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There's such a lot of world to see.
We're after the same rainbow's end--
waiting 'round the bend,
my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.

...me encanta esta canción.
El otro día me dijo un amigo que se había dejado los brazos nadando contracorriente para arreglar una historia de amor. Que terminó agotado y se dejó llevar por la corrriente. A veces la felicidad es saber ser una barca a la deriva...con los ojos bien abiertos para ver el mundo pasar.
Qué bonita es esta canción...