I view myself with detachment? No, I hunt myself out frantically.

But is only through the words of others and their memories of you that you come into being in the world.

Be careful who you choose as your friends.

Back to the Nullabor Crossing

yeah, so as i was saying, i stopped the night at Tintinara, then drove a bit more, and came to this little town, which is just a railway siding for loading grain.




love these silos!

134 ZEN VIEW*

…how should one make the most of a view? It turns out that the pattern which answers this question helps to govern not the rooms and windows on a building, but the places of transition. It helps to place and detail ENTRANCE TRANSITION (112), ENTRANCE ROOM (130), SHORT PASSAGES (132), THE STAIRCASE AS STAGE (133) - and outside, PATHS AS GOALS (120).

* * *

The archetypal zen view occurs on a famous Japanese house, which gives this pattern its name.

A Buddhist monk lived high in the mountains in a small stone house. Far, far in the distance was the ocean, visible and beautiful from the mountains. But it was not visible from the monks house itself, nor from the approach road to the house. However, in front of the house there stood a courtyard surrounded by a thick stone wall. As one came to the house, one passed through a gate into this court, then diagonally across the court to the front of the house. On the far side of the courtyard there was a slit in the wall, narrow and diagonal, cut through the thickness of the wall. As a person walked across the court, at one spot, where his position lined up with the slit in the wall, for an instant, he could see the ocean. And then he was past it once again, and went into the house.

What is it happens in that courtyard? The view of the distant sea is so restrained that is stays alive forever. Who, that has ever seen that view, can forget it? Its power will never fade. Even for the man who lives there, coming past that view day after day for fifty years, it will still be alive.

This is the essence of the problem with any view. It is a beautiful thing. One wants to enjoy it and drink it in every day. But the more open it is, the more obvious, the more it shouts, the sooner it will fade. Gradually it will become part of the building, like the wallpaper; and the intensity of its beauty will no longer be accessible to the people that live there.

Therefore:

If there is a beautiful view, don’t spoil it by building huge windows that gape incessantly at it. Instead, put the windows that look onto the view at places of transition – along paths, in hallways, in entry ways, on stairs, between rooms.

If the view window is correctly placed, people will see a glimpse of the distant view as they come up to the window or pass it: but the view is never visible from the places where people stay.

Put in the windows to complete the indirectness of the view – NATURAL DOORS AND WINDOWS (221); place them to help the TAPESTRY OF LIGHT AND DARK (135); and build a set from which a person can enjoy the view – WINDOW PLACE (180). If the view must be visible from inside a room, make a special corner of the room which looks onto the view, so that the enjoyment of the view becomes a definite act in its own right…

Zen View is pattern number 134, pp 641-43, of A Pattern Language – Towns, Buildings, Construction by Christopher Alexander, Sara Ishikawa and Murray Silverstein with Max Jacobson, Ingrid Fiksdahl-King and Shlomo Angel. Center for Environmental Structure, Berkley, California. New York Oxford University Press, 1977.

Right is that which allows you to breathe, and allows others to breathe.

Meniscus

- Stop crying.

- I can’t. I’m sorry. Don’t be angry with me.

- Well, go some where else.

- Please talk to me.

- Stop whining.

- Can't you just to talk to me?

- There’s nothing to fuckin talk about.

He leaves the room. She sits on the floor on her haunches making intermittent squeeks through her wide open mouth. Her face is red, like she’s not getting enough oxygen.

He returns. He has a glass and a cardboard cask. He sits in the single arm chair in front of the television and pours himself a wine and lights a cigarette. She crawls over to him and looks up.

- Don’t look at me like a dog.

She wails loudly, snot streaming out of her nose.

- I’m trying to watch the soccer.

She stands up and walks into the corner of the room, pushes herself as far into it as she can, and continues sobbing for some time.

She straightens herself, wipes her face with the bottom of the t-shirt she’s wearing and squeezes her nose into it. She walks behind his chair, takes the tobacco and box of matches outside.

The grass is covered in dew. She walks to the verge and leans against the angophora. She pinches tobacco onto creased paper and with slightly trembling fingers rolls a thin, papery fag. She wets its end and rotates it between her lips before she lights it.

She walks into the empty road, to the end of the street, round past the shopping centre, strips of quiet houses, into the reserve. In the bright moonlight she picks her way along the narrow tracks and across Kangas’ rock. A dog barks in the still distance, part of the perpetual conversation.

She crouches, feet flat on the cold rock, gazing out over the town, for a long time.

Tintinara

After Castlemaine staying with my sister, my second night on the road I pitched my tent at Tintinara on a couple square metres of grass called the caravan park; reminded me of the project of a Studio8 colleague which was a series of camp grounds scattered around Woomera townsite on vacant lots, each one managed by the house owner next door.



Wandering around town the next morning I came across this very nice piece of drainage infrastructure - a concrete ditch across an asphalt road.

A parking bay next to the shire offices, the footpath is concrete, the parking bay unpaved. If ound this really appealing. Something about a relaxation of priorities, perhaps...

Goodbye!

A couple images of Melbourne to say goodbye with. Boo hoo.

My local public open space...


and behind Fed Square the night of the fringe Soundwalk; high heels clocking up these stairs was a truly beautiful moment in a city soundscape experience...almost makes me think i might enjoy visiting.