Architect

never to be

I received my grades on Monday, 31st May, the very day I had to make my decision. They were not too bad (surprisingly good actually), an A for architectural construction, a B+ for climate responsive architecture, and a B- for biophysical environment (considering that I missed a tutorial which constituted 12.5%). My design was C+, which didn't come as a surprise. I had ponned so many tutorials anyway, until my tutor refused to grade my final crit presentation. Sigh. (I apologized after term ended anyway and we laughed and all was good)

I was actually hoping that my grades would be bad enough, such that they could assuage my dilemma to an extent where I can say "oh well, even if I want to stay, I can't live with such grades". I schemed to have them left to die, but no, they gleefully returned. They hopped out of my sms and onto my lap, and with a smile of blissful ignorance they looked up at me and exclaimed: "Heyy Xuan! How have you beennn, don't worry bout us we're still doing very fine (: Where did you go! You disappeared for awhile so we been a little affected, but naw anyway, look at us aren't you proud of us! heehee :D"

My heart melted, and I hugged all of them "of course I am so proud of you guys! (: Aww c'mon! You guys are my babies". I tried to smile, but it couldn't last, guilt was bearing down on me. Soon, my head was hung low in shame.

I thought they didn't know, but I was wrong. With his tiny feet, C+ came tottering over to me, and tugged at my shirt. I looked at him, and he was still beaming so radiantly, even though he was the shabbiest, and the most beat-up among the rest (thanks to my neglect for Design assignments). He patted my hand and said: "Hey Xuan, don't worry we understand what you're going through, but don't worry. I could have easily been "D"ead, but I'm not. You know why? Because we are your results, and because you never fail. I was an "A" once when you still cared about me, and you will always have the capacity to change us. So don't worry naw, we'd always support you where ever you go. We believe in you (:"

"Thank you so much guys...", I patted their heads, and they began to fade away as they waved good bye.

Once again, I was left with me and myself, and reality. Putting all humility and whatever-consciousness aside, I unabashedly say: "Hey, I think I'm really cut out for archi, I have the potential to excel here, no really."

But I'm transferring out.

So, what's the problem now? I've asked myself countless times, why wouldn't architecture be the course for me?

First I'd remind myself why architecture: It's a professional degree, it has prospects. I'm doing well in it. I take pride in my designs. It is a really meaningful profession. The pay is good. Green architecture is really awesome. I could help save the world. 5 years isn't too long. I love archicon. I love creative problem solving and this is what architecture is all about.

And then, I'd always come up with reasons why not: what I like is art, and architecture is not art. Art is personal, liberal, architecture is not. I design for myself. I hate conformity. I can't stand designing for other people, fulfilling clients' requests, or obeying and dutifully materializing out my boss's design, cos after all, they are all not MINE. I don't like the idea of having to stare at black autocad screens (as if excel spreadsheets are any better) all day long, or work long hours, having to change or alter designs based on the whim and fancy of my client/boss right up till the deadline. I lack the passion and I will never be able to dedicate every minute of my day thinking about my design and how I can improve on it. Without this passion, I'd go nowhere. I never had an interest in buildings anyway (actually it's growing). The pedagogy is so bullshit I'm not learning anything out of it (true but I think we're supposed to acquire them ourselves through books), and the assignments are all rubbish I don't see what I'm supposed to gain out of them (It'd get less fluffy and more practical in the later years, or at least I hope). There are so many terrible architecture around seriously, I'm losing faith in this profession. (I can be one of the better ones). The list goes on but it's getting late I'd stop.

As I pondered, there would always be these bubbles of thoughts popping out which disagree with my disagreements with architecture, and they are as stated above, enclosed within brackets. Thus, I was never thoroughly convinced of my decision to leave. I felt as though I was running away from something.

Hours before I clicked that dreadful button, I interrogated myself over and over again; all fruitless. Then I realized I had been missing the salient question:

"What is the real reason I want to leave?"

I finally confessed: it's because I'm lazy. Because I want assignments that I can finish in a jiffy and get them done and over with. Because I want assignments that are definite, that have an end point that isn't the deadline. Because I am too lazy to spend time thinking about designs and architecture. Because I'd rather spend the time doing all the other things that I love doing. Of course, architecture will never be my main priority, and that is the biggest problem in itself: Passion and commitment are the core requisites that this course/profession demands, and I will never be able to fulfill them. It isn't hard, to just sit down on my table and start doodling or dreaming out concepts for my models. But because it's so intangible and formless, I just can't bring myself to start. Design's a tiring process, which is why I dread it. I'd rather take the simpler path out, I am just terribly LAZY.


_____________________________________________



The deadline's over. I've clicked that button.

Now, what's left to think about? Plenty. Should I? No. I've learned.
Retrospection is never pleasant, besides revealing burdens of the past, there is never much to be gained. All these self stirring digs up regrets, and I will only find within these, greater barriers to acceptance. Neither will I find happiness, because happiness flees the instance it is sought. You pause, and you think, and before you can even form the words "am I happy?" in your head, it's gone.

Move on pal. Leave the heartache for another day. Leave it for the day it hits.

Involuntarily. Inevitably.

When the stars go blue

I'm an architecture student

I should say, while I can.

I had a dream one night, about a month back during the study week. I was in school, when I received an envelope. I tore off its seal, and enclosed were my application results. "Rejected," it read. Troubled, agonized, "why??", I was pacing around school with my laptop, scouring the school website for any confirmation that would state otherwise. I bumped into some of my archi friends along the way. I explained my predicament, and they responded with sincere concern. "Harrr..". He said: "nevermind lar you still have us yay".

I awoke the next morning with a deeply furrowed countenance. A queer sour sensation was stirring within my chest, and my heart pulsations felt more pronounced than usual. My eyes weren't the usual moist either. The dream bothered me, so I sat on my bed for a moment, pondering. It didn't help, and I was still confused, after all I had already spent 3 years wondering if architecture was good for me. All I knew then was that, given the circumstance, whatever time I had left with the guys shouldn't be neglected and thrown to waste, but rather be conscientiously wrapped up and shelved neatly into the archive of treasured memories. With that in mind, I headed to school to study with a dear friend.

Few weeks on I had an interview for ntu accounts, which went pretty well. The interviewer actually said "you know what, I actually like you a lot. I am going to give you the course now", so I was like "hahahah okay I take". So there, there isn't anything else in the way.. except for me and my head.

I walked out of the interview room, beaming with pride and satisfaction. Just for the interview I had gone shopping for black business pants and slim fit zara shirts the day before. Just this morning today I spent half a day reading parts of a 5cm thick manual titled "Accounting: the language of Business".

What's this excitement that fills me while slipping on executive shirts and overalls? What's this very unusual zeal I have that causes me to read up or even read at all? All these actions I don't understand, and I cannot validate them. There's this lingering "what-if" floating around that I suppose I can never find an answer to, and it'd most certainly bug me for life, just whether or not I choose to entertain it. Sure, Accountancy's a bright path, logically undisputed. Does it truly reflect what I desire? Maybe. Maybe not, and maybe I'm just a fool in denial, convinced that I am thinking for myself, when in actual fact I'm merely making decisions based on the Xuan that I wish to be, that I am not. Have I been living a farce?

Sickening, all these dreary maybe's. Life would be simpler if there weren't no mental faculty for meta cognition, but it's innate and I can't help but think, so bear with me.

Perhaps there is much to be contrite about, that maybe I'm just another pathetic statistic of the Singapore-syndrome demographic. Practicality-driven drones as we are, enslaved to the vicious cycle of ever ascending achievements. From where does happiness derive for these people? (us?) Not from the simple pleasures of being able to marvel at the work of our hands, of being able to admire up and down and 10 times over, the architectural masterpiece as materialized from the blueprints painstakingly laid through days and nights of geometric lines and black autocad screens. Not from the thrill of walking into a room, decorated with a perfect composition of harmonious colors, and then proudly explaining to your friends how x and y exist z degrees apart within the color wheel thus birthing their complementary co-existence. Not from the gratifying sensation of running your fingertips along the textured walls of the corridor as you have chosen them to be, or of seeing how your part fits into the whole and then witnessing and exclaiming at how awesomely the glorious whole turns up, more than the sum of its parts.

Not.

This satisfaction stems from pride and achievement. Promotions, burgeoning payrolls, parking lots with inscribed vehicle registration numbers; to excel they strive.

So, which is more meaningful?
Yeah, it's a pity.

Perhaps, my mindset is fundamentally not so different from the very elitists that I despise. Someone tell me that it's fine.

I envy.

Architectural students shouldn't be pitied for their miserable notions of Life (if any at all), because there's much to envy if you think about it. The camaraderie and friendships, forged through countless hours of working together, getting tired together, stay overs and deadline rushes are experiences that I will never be able to enjoy, because I dread Design and studio. I mean, where else does such a community exist in university life. The dedication they pour into their works, and the passion that costs them their sleep, are traits that I'd never be able to summon. They have that fire that burns in their eyes when they build them models, it's so powerful it's scary, and yet inspiring. They complain just as much, but you can tell that they really want to do it. You can tell that I really don't, but I really wish I could say I do. The joy and satisfaction of staring lifelessly at the finally completed model after nights of slogging; it's priceless, and I'm really glad that I was at least able to enjoy that. People who chase their passions, I envy.


This path that I'm walking, I must go alone


as Fergie sings it. Indeed.

It'd be sad, but I think I've been hit hard enough by too many departures to be much affected by this one. It numbs. I hope. Sometimes I wonder if I'd be missed should I really disappear next sem, and then my brain tells me "you think?! you don't even work in studio".

Sigh :(

A friend told me that if I could remember my dreams, they wouldn't come true. If that were true, it'd hardly involve a choice, after all how is it possible to forget a dream like that. Heart wrenching, but a conclusion at least. Shyt.