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Yesterday, as I was cleaning up my office (yes, on a sunday afternoon!!) I came across a couple of old tiny boxes. As you probably already know by now I love old things. Photographs, books, typewriters and even trash I find around. But these boxes were right there, in front of my nose and have never noticed them before. Color pastels and chalks. They are actually my mother's. From when she studied architecture in Zurich back in the days! Then, instead of cleaning the office as planned I started taking pictures of them. And my mind, together with this old objects started wandering around. I so miss doing my job like the "old times", like when studying architecture in LA...pencils, pen, rulers, graphite, erasers, all different types of papers. And my hands, at the end of the day, were all dirty. A sign of a direct contact with my work. I made my hands dirty therefore I was! Ohhh those old times!! When you could smell the coffee scent all over the school. At every time of the day and night. I still smile when thinking about it: with my headphones on, listening to Björk, when I would accidentally hit the mug and the coffee would spread out all over my drawings. First was panic. Then was creativity! I would integrate the stains as part of the project! And I would present the drawing as if those fragrant stains were there since the beginning. Actually they were the starting point of it!! Now things are different. I still draw by hands. Just the preliminary sketch. Then pass it over to my employees who put them in the machine. Yes...the machine. Why bother to build a real model when a friggin machine does it for you? Now I just make my hands dirty for fun. But the "machine" has become a boundary between the emotional relationships between me and the spaces I'm supposed to create. Only the smell of coffee remains. All day. But now if I accidentally hit the mug there is no paper there to welcome those stains. Just a keyboard. And the machine! Photo by lilypenelope
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