Jan 22
lindsayrgwattUncategorized vancouver
A few years ago, Alan Weisman wrote a little book called The World Without Us . In it, he detailed what would happen to the the earth if humans suddenly disappeared. There’s a captivating chapter where he describes the decay of Manhattan as it’s buildings begin to collapse:
In the first few years with no heat, pipes will burst all over town, the freeze-thaw cycle moves indoors, and things stat to seriously deteriorate. Buildings groan as their innards expand and contract; joints between walls and rooflines separate. Where they do, ryan leaks in, bolts rust, and facing pops off, exposing insulation. If the city hasn’t burned yet, it will now. Collectively, New YOrk architecture isn’t as combustible as, say, San Francisco’s incendiary rows of clapboard Victorians. But with no firemen to answer the call, a dry-lightning strike that ignites a decade of dead branches in Central Park will spread flames through the streets. Within two decades, lighting rods have begun to rust and snap, and roof fires leap among buildings, entering panelled offices filled with paper fuel. Gas lines ignite with a rush of flames that blows out windows. Rain and snow blow in, and soon even poured concrete floors are freezing, thawing, starting to buckle. Burnt insulation and charred wood add nutrients to Manhattan’s growing soil cap. Native Virginia creeper and poison ivy claw at walls covered with lichens, which thrive in the absence of air pollution. Red-tailed hawks and peregrine falcons nest in increasingly skeletal high-rise structures.
By definition, none of us will ever get to see this (after all, it’s the world without us…), but every winter in Vancouver a miniature version of this plays out:
Stanley Park has a massive pool in it but it’s shuttered for the winter; literally no one enters it between September and May. The ever-resourceful crows recognize this and use the concrete surface as an oyster-opener. They drop the shells from on high then swoop down after they crack on impact. Since no one’s going in the there to clean it up, the shells collect over the winter.
It’s interesting to imagine that in the immediate aftermath of a Vancouver without us the streets near the water might end up filled with a thin coating of broken shells…
Jan 20
lindsayrgwattUncategorized architecture, Art
There’s a great exhibit on right now at the Charles H. Scott gallery at Emily Carr.
Babak Golkar’s Grounds for Standing and Understanding rethinks our everyday relationship to architecture.
At the end of the gallery sits an afghan rug; the patterns have been perfectly extruded to create a speculative cityscape.
To get to the rug you walk through a room full of sharply angled lines. If you’ve been to the gallery before, it feels all wrong: this wall wasn’t here before? Why has the window been blacked out?
And then when you see the rug and its surface, it sort of makes sense. We’re part of the exhibit and we’re looking at ourselves, hidden in the everyday.
Trapped?
It’s not clear, but the recursion gives you pause.
Well worth a visit.
Jan 07
lindsayrgwattTravel driving, stream of consciousness
I’m on the road snaking north and east with the traffic. A bumper flies off a car traveling the opposite direction; it happens so fast that maybe it almost didn’t. And now there are deer. Four of them including a few horned bucks. Not too many points but too far away to tell. Can’t turn my head because I’m driving. I note with relief that they’re on the opposite side of a fence.
The radio. I haven’t listened to it in years but now it’s my best friend (there’s no iPhone adapter in this car). As the city recedes so does musical variety. Steve Miller band. Aerosmith. Is that Motley Crue? I can tell by the music that Kingston is approaching. If we ever lose GPS or street signs I’ll still know how if I’m in the St. Lawrence River Valley just by the music. Dear god. Supertramp.
The first flakes of snow are starting to fall. And fall faster. And suddenly the other cars can’t handle the road anymore. A hatchback has backed into the bush. A truck has trucked into the ditch. Wait, there shouldn’t be a tractor trailer parked there. Focus, focus, focus. Don’t watch the snow; it’s like a siren that wants to pull you off the road. Trust that the lanes are there and drive through it. Use the car and drive because the snow can’t last forever.
And it doesn’t. But other folks are tired. The gentle turn in the 401 at Lancaster, designed to wake you up, almost fails for another hatchback: the curve becomes the ditch as he goes straight but the rumble strips wake him up and he recovers in time.
Keep driving. Keep driving.
And new music fills the car. Beats. Rhythm. Not classic rock. A city approaches.
Montreal’s highways are a mystery. I could have sworn I drove down this road five minutes ago. Why is a plane flying directly above me? Didn’t I just turn right three times? Oh wait, there’s the city.
Rocketing towards it in the dark. A 12 kilometre tunnel that slowly fades the radio to fuzz. I pop out beneath a construction site as a light snow falls.
I check in to my hotel. The heat is barely on and I can almost see my breath. Was The Exorcist filmed here? It’s late but I need to do a bit of work. I go to a bar in a hotel; not mine. The bar is big, too big for the crowd in it and the elegant decor feels almost embarrassed. I sit at the bar and sip cocktails named for another city. I return to the hotel and sleep in the cold after the clerk insists that his technique to turn on the heat will work; it doesn’t.
Awake. Wash. Why is the faucet detached from the wall? Why doesn’t the stopper in the sink work? I must remember to never stay here again.
Need breakfast. Saw a Starbucks nearby. Dear god, these are the friendliest people on earth. I didn’t realize how good Dr Dre’s headphones were, Mr. Barista. Thank you for the pin to add to the other ones on my bag.
Meetings. The reason I came. They’re good.
And I’m back on the snake’s lair of highways around Montreal. Concrete crumbles and rebar is exposed. Graffiti appears in random locations.
A train is steaming west like me; I slowly pass it counting cars along the way. The Surete drives at exactly 100 and we all slow pass them just over the limit.
I stop outside Quebec in the fringe of Ontario where the French language is making a last stand. At an unnamed restaurant that’s more like a cafeteria, smoked meat and fries seem to hold the community together. The proprietor is a hustler and tries to upsell me a clam chowder; I politely decline and ask if it’s locally sourced from the St. Lawrence. A wry smile.
Back in the St. Lawrence River Valley and that means more classic rock. Again the Aerosmith. And the Motley Crue. How is it possible that I haven’t heard a Crue song in ten years and then twice in two days. Supertramp, round two. Zeppelin: three different songs. The same damn Steve Miller song as yesterday. And the Five Man Electrical Band‘s Signs. Twice. Must be Cancon.
The 401 is noticeably faster than Quebec’s highway 20. The OPP cruises along at just under 130; oblivious to anyone slower than them but warily eyeing trucks.
I briefly catch American radio. It’s all debt reduction and cash for gold ads. Tired of your silver tarnishing? Have tacky gold from the ’80s? Our buyers have over one million dollars to spend this weekend. Head to the Ramada in Messina. I picture an over-lit room with a pile of ugly jewelry in the middle; barkers surrounding it and handing out bills to nervous men and their depressed wives. The reality is probably more banal.
The first rumblings of classical music and hip hop. Toronto approaches. This ride is almost over. Traffic thickens but doesn’t noticeably slow. Two lanes become three, then four and the bifurcate into “express” and “collectors” that move at indistinguishable speeds. Signs overhead predict the future of the road and cars jockey for position.
And then it’s over. My exit appears. I’m off the highway and home and everything slows to a stop.
Jan 01
lindsayrgwattRandom
It’s that time of year again: to reflect on what I did or didn’t do in the prior year and attempt to chart a plan for the current one.
What were my goals for 2011? According to this blog post, I had four:
- Launch my own company. This one happened. Placeling is up and running – and if you own an iPhone and haven’t downloaded it yet, your first new year’s resolution should be to do so.
- Meet a lot of interesting people. This one also happened, although not quite as I expected. By launching my own company, I’ve met a tonne of interesting people; now I need to figure out how to continue this in the new year
- Do less, better. Yup, again, this happened. I focused on a few things in 2011 and it worked
- Run a 3:10 marathon. Close, but no cigar. Ran a 3:15 in May. Tried again in October but ran a 3:18 instead. I need to retool how I run if I’m going to ever do this
And I had a secret fifth goal: start a family. And this one worked: my son was born in November.
So, what’s up for 2012?
Well, there are some unspoken resolutions: I’ve got to be a good dad, a great husband and a good CEO at my company. But those are tablestakes; you don’t really get any points for doing them as they’re expected.
Here – in no particular order – is what I’m going to try in 2012:
- Manage stress better: find a way to do yoga once a week plus one of running/biking/swimming/boxing. Cook more and make the meals healthier. I hit a low point in November where I was gritting my teeth; need to learn to be better at managing stress
- Be more creative: I’m going to finally use all the Arduino-related stuff I bought a few years ago: Wen and I are going to make a robot. I’m going to cook a new meal every week. I’m going to code for at least 30 days straight to really learn Rails. I need to blog more
- Not buy a book: I love books, but I’ve got a stack of unread books I’ve accumulated over the past few years. I’m going to read them all before I buy a new one. Heuristics and Biases: this is your year (NOTE: I’m talking to Wendy as I write this and she already predicts I fail; the gauntlet has been dropped)
- Get hyper-organize: I signed up for a year of Evernote plus I’m using Mint. We’ll see how this goes, but I’m going to try and get everything into the cloud and see if it changes how I think/behave
There you go. The 2012 list. Check in a year from now to see how it goes.
RSS
Recent Comments