- 3 -

The importance of home

The more pictures I look at, the more I think about how important the home is, but how it’s place in peoples lives has changed. Watching old photos one sees people proud standing in front of their home, showing it as an important part of the picture. It almost seems like it’s a part of the family, the big protector of the small humans.

Nowadays people are showing off more than the bare necessities, they are showing off their life and the home no longer is big a part of everyday life as it once was.
Now a days there only people are showing of their life more then their home, seeing that the home no longer has as big of an impact on your everyday life as it once had.

 Sure, it’s still of value, you home is your castle, but the likelihood of you shifting your home more than 2-3 times in a lifetime is rather big. Now it’s our things that are important. If the house is about to burn down, a lot of people would take their hard drive and whatever they can grab in the other hand and run.
But posing in front of our home, except for the poster of some American tv-show, is no longer in fashion.

Has the home become as expendable as our iPods? Is what is in it more important than the home itself? Is that why such a big part of today's population living in developed countries no longer take care of and value the place they live in? Is a home so expendable that people just move when there are to many things in need of restoration?

Once again I can just look at where I live at the moment. The carpet it full of paint stains from the little girl, who lived here before, who liked to use it as drawing paper, and the same comes when you look at the walls.
If the parents don’t show any consideration of their home, why should she?
If this is the attitude she grows up with, that it really doesn’t mater, then why should she care about someone else’s things. And if she doesn’t have to care about someone else’s things, why should she care about the person who owns them?
Is our disregard for our own property a part of the pattern of our disregard for people?
Sure, that was an easy way to put it, but think about it: Does the lack of respect of the individual comes from lack of respect of our homes and things?

Chapter 2

FOR THE FIRST TIME

 The beginning of my Sydney part of my life. What occured from the day of my arrival monday August 30st (5.30 am) til today, saturday september 4th

I wish I could say “So far so good”, but no no, yesterday I fell over like the amazon I am and managed to bruise both my knees, and get one of those nice big uneven, deep cuts in my right knee. I happens to be one of those cuts that you only can get from falling and sliding on gravel. Didn’t look all that bad when I look at it after the first shock had passed, but then, ripping my stockings as to be able to get a better overview of exactly what i needed to get from the pharmacist, I realised that it was deeper then one could see at first glance.
Damned it, don’t have time for this, have to be a good Play Boy bunny at this evenings birthday party. Now I’ll just have to go as “The Wounded Bunny”. Sure, I believe i will stick out quite a bit walking around with ripped stockings and a nice big white plaster over the knee, but it wasn’t exactly what i was aiming for. Specially seeing that that tonight will be the first time I meet a lot of The Boys friends.

So, now when i have brought up The Boys, I not only have to, but I want to tell you all about my impression of them so far. The Boys, also known as Aaron and Justin and their sidekick Tye the Dog, stole my heart away from the first second I met them. They were a bit late to pick me up from the airport (which was kind of good seeing that it gave me a chance to go to the ladies, brush my teeth and freshen up in general. 31 hours on planes and airports has a tendency to make one feel more then just a bit dirty). But when they finally did arrive they showed me a side that felt so genuine that it was impossible not to adore them. Justin with his amazing smile and self distant, knowing that his sense of direction is more then just a bit out of order, and Aaron trying to guide Justin through the airport jungle, on to the highway and home, and doing so forgetting to pronounce the words clearly “hearable” in his mind. Yes, he has a tendency to mumble, thinking that he has made himself understood.

From that first moment at the airport till now there has been no problems, so now I’m just enjoying this little family bliss in anticipation for their arrival. The thing is that they might never arrive, at least not if I’m as lucky as I was living with Berit and Peter in Aarhus. There the family bliss just continued for 1 1/2 years, without as much as a row.

My first impression of Terroir was just as good as the one with The Boys. Turning up one day to early (the 31st of august instead of 1st of sep) I found Tamara (the mane women of the office) sitting on the floor awaiting both the locksmith and Jannis the German (the other intern) who was out getting some coffee. She just sat there, calmly writing an e-mail on her beloved iPhone. There was no anger nor irritation floating around in the air, just a calm understanding that the situation was at it was, and there was no point in getting all worked up about it. When the locksmith finally arrived, he was greeted with a smiles and kind words. That is the kind of people I like, as the KaosPilots might say “It’s a good mind set”, and I have to agree with that.

- 2 -

Yesterday the living room. Today the TV room. Tomorrow, hopefully, the social room.

 

The place I live doesn’t have a livingroom. We have a small and dark kitchen, 2 bathrooms and our bedrooms. 2 of my house-mates and I talk, but only when one of us knocks on the other person’s door, the 3rd and final hose-mate I’ve never really seen except when I knocked on his door to introduce myself as his new neighbor, otherwise I just hear his TV.

Not having a common social space makes this place into a place to live rather than a home. If a family lived here, we would hardly have any contact with each other whatsoever, seeing as it consists of 3 bedrooms and narrow hallways. No place to naturally socialize and talk, only these corridors and the tiny kitchen.

I’ve been thinking about how to make it into a space where it’s more natural to gather and socialize, but can’t come up with a solution without someone having to move so that we can knock a wall or two down. If I saw any of my flat mates on the street, then I would probably not recognize them, seeing that I hardly have any contact with them. Sure, we are a temporary constellation, but that doesn’t make it less important to build up bonds.

If a modern day family moved in here how would they arrange it to make it a home? It would be impossible without some serious remodeling. I can see every member of the family leaving for their own enclosed space as fast as the dinner has been served and eaten. What sort of impact does that have on the individual? Does ones room become one’s castle or one’s involuntary prison? That, I believe differs from person to person, but it has become one’s safe zone. A place where people from the outside has to knock on the door and ask for permission if they want to enter. That makes that door a sort of obstacle that one has to encounter before one encounters the person behind it. Everyone wants, and normally needs, the possibility to get some time for their selves. Some people go to their room, where they can stay for hours on end without any interaction with others aside from computer and phone communication, while others go to the bathroom with a good book. How big of a “me” space does a person really need, and how big or small of a space is it mentally healthy to have?

Every time I try to answer a question, I just come up with a thousand more.

Back to the living room, which aught to be what the word implies, a place to live, not just to breathe.

Every apartment and house that has a so-called living room seems to have made it into an altar for the television. Sofas and chairs directed towards the screen and away from real eye contact. Turn off the TV and it’s still hard to hold a normal conversation without having to twist ones body into uncomfortable positions.   

I don’t see myself as radical when I say that a home with a good kitchen and/or living room without the presence of a television seems to have a tendency to make people more inclined to interact with one another and get more things done. One can say that the way the living room is working at the moment has turned it from being a space for social interaction into an anti-social space. Weather or not this means that the way we interact with people we meet on the street would change if we got rid of the TV or not, that I can not say. But what I can say is that from what I’ve noticed, the people who have decided to look away from the TV and see eye to eye with the people around them, seem to have a more open mind toward, and show more interest in, the people they meet, disregarding if it is a stranger or a friend.

The Sydney Story - Chapter 1 (a cuple of weeks delayed)

Don't think anyone will read this, but if they/you do, hope you find something of interest, if so even just the layout (stolen from the Swedish magazine Aplace)

 THE SYDNEY STORY

Soon it all begins, my 5 month in Aussi-land. 5 month in a country where everything is upside down campaired to my home country Sweden. The toilets flush in the opposit direction, the cars drive on the wronge side of the road, and it’s warm during “wintertime” 

Monday 16.aug.2010

It’s not because of surfing I’m going there, nor is it because of surfers. I’m going there because of the heat, and the fact that the Australian offices are supposed to be good when it comes to natural ventilation.
So I applied for several offices, sending out letters and portfolio starting with the offices who had managed to get most stars in my excel-sheet. I never did manage to go through them all, seeing that I got  -YES, we would like to have you as our intern- from no less then two of the offices on the very top. It was a hard choice, but in the end i decided to go for Terroir.
From what I hear from people at school (Aarhus School of Architecture, Denmark), Gerard is a cool guy, and has some interesting ideas. He’s the one who will be my mane boss, but apparently he will be off working quite a bit over here, Europe, while I’m over there. Pity, but if the rest of the office is anything like him (I have a very good impression of him from the e-mail correspondence) then I will be fine. Will meet with him when i go to Copenhagen in the end of the weekend. I’m more then just a bit curious about seeing if the mails has managed to fool me or not.


Tuesday 24.aug.2010

The mails didn’t fool me, he is a cool guy Mr G. Met with him at a cafe next to one of the lakes called CafeSalonen. Nice little place which has a tendency to make me feel as if I’m in Paris every time I’m there.
He was late, over 15 minutes late. That gave me more time to get nervous. Don’t know id that was a good or a bad thing tough, seeing that I have a tendency to take such meetings a bit to lightly, not understanding why on earth I should be as nervous as other deadly normally are. Think I’ve gotten that from dad, he never seems to get affected by such things as nerves.

Anyways, when Mr G finally did arrive, he spoke, I listened. He had coffee, I had already finish my tea. He told me about the different projects, a bit about everyone working there, and the way the office work. It seems like a serious but chill place. If it is anything like he explains it I believe I will like it, and hopefully fit right in.
His girlfriend/wife turned up after about 45min, wonderful woman, like her a lot. She has her both her heart and head in the right place, wish she was a part of the Sydney office. We spoke about volunteering and different offices and project working with such things. Hope that they (and others) will speak about me with the same fire/intensity in the future...

Now it is time for me to start packing. Only allowed to bring 23kg, so the task of figuring out what is important, and what should be left behind is upon me.