This kitchen table continues to serve us over twenty years through six abodes.
This afternoon, we thoroughly cleaned up lunch (cod, broccoli, and rice).
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It’s been four months since I posted the letter “Q”.
These hand sketches were photographed last year, so it’s just a matter of tidying the images and writing a little journal entry to mark the passage of time.
I started the year hoping to catch up on the backlog—let things go, either out to the wild or into the private archives.
Hopefully I now have the mental space to do this work.
1
Of course, there is a fresh set of sketches to scan. And tiny poems . And those zines that I slammed together twenty months ago.
One step at a time.
.
To
repeat myself
: if you’re unsure about staying at your current job, it’s time to leave.
︎
In early May, this daily practice sprung up at a delicate moment. I so busy at work that I had no mental space to practice anything creative, especially with a looming job switch.
But I made time to post a simple photo every day.
This practice kept me afloat amidst the during a season of change. It’s now time to sunset this three month project to make time for other pursuits. Thanks to everyone who supported this little creative life raft on Substack Notes. Your likes and comments helped me persevere, turning a stray notion into a project of seeing (and framing) the mundane.
Unfortunately, life is complicated. So I’ve changed it to
2(P+P)
—two practices and projects (a creative and practical endeavour for each).
For my Projects, I’m returning to my 2024 theme of
“Settling up”
. For creative, it’s time to tackle the Grizzlypear backlog (200+ drafts!). And for home, we need to fully settle into our “new” house (six months after moving in!).
As for Practices, I need to start exercising and I’d like to work on my calligraphy. I’ve hit that inevitable point in this new hobby where it’s time to grind down to reach the next plateau. Maybe I’ll eventually give up, but I want to put in a solid effort before deciding that the next level of proficiency isn’t worth the time.
Hopefully this dual track approach provides a better balance of fun and responsibility. We’ll see!
At work, I push long term ideas into tasks due on July 4th or December 25th. But this time, there’s nothing on that TTD list for Independence day.
It started on January 9th. I went to a BOE meeting in the morning to get my DMV construction contract approved and then received an email to attend an all-hands that afternoon.
Our Administrator was demoted. A couple of weeks late,r our Deputy Administrator was also demoted.
The Division wasn’t perfect under them—the seeds of overwhelm that pushed me out started under their watch. But the place had changed. Even though I like the guys who stepped up in their void, the Director made his mark.
People often think government workers have a ton of protections, but as a “non-classified” employee, I could be fired for any reason. Once it became clear that anyone
would
be fired at any time for stepping out of line
and
the workload had gotten out of control. Why stay?
Only for the projects.
That’s when a phone call from a mechanical engineer fell from from the skies. Or the airport (same difference.) I thought about the offer and demurred.
A week later, she called back and directed me to apply before the deadline expired at 5pm. I was in San Diego about to go to the zoo. Fine! Tippy-tap on the iPad, cutting and pasting from LinkedIn onto the county website.
A few weeks later they called for a first interview, a half-hour time slot.
Ok whatevers, let’s get coffee to see what it’s about. She warned that this was my only shot, there wasn’t going to be a second interview.
Oh! The competitive juices kicked in. If I’m going, go hard. I changed the appointment to an in-person meeting and spent the weekend updating the resume and work sample.
I didn’t open that portfolio during the 48 minute conversation but walked out feeling great. Both about my performance and the opportunity.
I’ve been on many interview committees for contractors and architects for the Division. It was humbling to be at the mercy of other people’s decision again. Fortunately, it was a short wait. They decided fast.
Speedrun through salary negotiations (with the advice of my network), drug tests (a moment in gratitude when I realized I was the wealthiest person in the building), background checks (a long wwwwaaaaiiiittt), and now I’m airport employee.
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Four weeks into the new job, I’m still in the honeymoon phase.
It’s a huge relief to escape the overload from the previous job. I didn’t realize the psychic toll until I had to start using my alarm clock again
1
. For the past year, I had been so amped up on work nights that I was waking up at 3am and 4am “naturally”.
It’s also a relief to work thoughtfully. When work was creeping up, the first response was to cut corners to save time. Even though I had my supervisor’s blessings, doing slapdash work is its own punishment. Then to add insult to injury, I started doing (uncompensated) overtime to stay afloat in emergency mode. Three weeks ago, I had a sudden jolt, “I can
think
again!”
I’m certain the meetings and intensity will creep up, but it’s a good sign that they aren’t throwing the new guy right into the fire. As a planner, my work with affect everyone negatively—who wants to work inside a remodel? So politics will rear its ugly head soon enough. But so far so good. My team is chill and everyone has been super welcoming.
Plus, the airport has offered me more food in a month (two lunches
and
popsicles) than six years at the Division! I guess that makes up for getting asked “Do you even speak English?” at a termain…then getting berated by the drunk passenger when I couldn’t stifle a nervous giggle at getting hit with this schoolyard taunt as my very first question from the public.
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I wonder if I’ve been posting less because I now have an audience on Substack. Or maybe Ockham’s Razor just says, “Dude you’ve been too busy at work!”—after all, it’s hard to post much when I haven’t been writing at all.
But Grizzlypear is the digital archive of my life since 2008. I need to excise that pressure to “provide value” to “my” readers. That’s not why I’m here. I appreciate y’all and I hope you enjoy my blatherings, but I hope you don’t mind that this place is more of a blog than a “newsletter”.
That said, here is a listicle of self help nuggets from this job change.
Always have the conversation.
I learned this adage from my last boss in private practice and I almost blew an amazing opportunity by initially declining the conversation.
Sometimes it’s a favor to sell harder.
I don’t want to own your happiness, but there are times when it’s appropriate to push back. I’m grateful that the mechanical engineer told me that I was making a big mistake. A couple of days ago, the PM who took over my old projects gave me a call. It felt good to be helpful, but I also felt “Thank god I’m not doing this no more!”
If you need to leave, don’t stay.
I feel bad for the projects I left behind. I would have been the best PM for those jobs. But they’ll be fine, the agency always takes care of itself. But I wasn’t fine—and I didn’t even realize it until I left.
Corollary: If you’re not certain if you should stay, you need to go.
Draw boundaries.
Definitely easier said than done. But I didn’t do the Division or my projects any favors by taking on so much work that I gave up and left. I should have been disagreeable early to nip the overwork in the bud. If I wasn’t overloaded, I’m pretty sure I would have (been dumb enough) to stick to my guns and not-apply for the airport position.
Learn when to offload.
A huge perk at my old job was the freedom to innovate. As often happens in corporate life, if you grab responsibility, you get stuck with it. I should have been insistent on offloading ancillary tasks to others after my improvements had morphed into maintenance mode.
Be nice.
Even though I’m cocky enough to think I was the ideal candidate for this job, I only found out about the opportunity because I defended a mechanical engineer during a stressful project with a bad client ten years ago.
Never hurts to remind people that you exist.
It’s a chore to pick out a photo and gussy it up for a holiday email each December. But it’s fun to hear back from old colleagues every year. And what’s the ROI for being top of mind when a new opportunity pops up?
Funny how getting paid changes your perspective.
I never thought passenger jets were beautiful. But they are so sexy now that my paycheck is tied to them. I love watching the tail of a jet slice through the air like the fin of a shark. What troglodyte would resist the romance of flight!
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This weekend I finished a calligraphy notebook with this tiny poem. It shouldn’t have taken five months to fill up this notebook. But I’m going to do Vegas Ordinary for July before re-evaluating which daily practice to practice daily.
suburban
saturday
breakfast
organic
corn with
toast
rush! rush!
off to
basketball
class!
.
I know, I know! I shouldn’t need an alarm clock, especially since I’m a morning person! I need to start going to sleep earlier so I can wake naturally in time for my work schedule.
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Things have been so busy that I can’t focus on anything outside of work.
So I picked up a daily practice that can be instantly completed at any time since we are tethered to pocket computer cameras at all waking (and sleeping) hours.
The title of this project is inspired by Shimzu Akira’s fun newsletter JAPAN ORDINARY.
I’m not sure how long to keep it up, but it will run at least through June. It’s been a fun way to record the change of scenery at my new job.
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Puzzle.
5/4
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Lavatory.
5/5
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Morning.
5/6
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Desk.
5/7
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Read.
5/8
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Durango.
5/9
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Yard.
5/10
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Stairs.
5/11
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Mouse.
5/12
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Boxes.
5/13
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Dishes.
5/14
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Strip.
5/15
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Graduation.
5/16
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Shadow.
5/17
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Trash.
5/18
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Park.
5/19
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Drugs.
5/21
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Logistics.
5/22
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Summer.
5/24
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Panels.
5/25
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Knot.
5/26
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Nuts.
5/27
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Fluorescent.
5/28
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Dishwasher.
5/29
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Flower.
5/31
Door.
5/31
Basin.
5/31
Concrete.
5/31
Up.
5/31
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While contemplating my birthday in May, I realized that my piles of projects and want-to-do lists keep growing as my time continues to shrink.
To balance the desire to start new projects, I need to close out old projects. (Ironic to write this on a post showcasing a new photography series!).
So I’ve created a new limitation – onePractice and one Project at a time.
1P-1P 顽皮-顽皮 “naughty naughty” (also the nickname of my parents’ neighbor’s cat who chills in their house all day)
Practices could be something like taking a photo every day, playing the banjo, practicing calligraphy, writing poetry, or sketching my hand.
Projects are specific endeavors, like finishging my Alphabet Magic series or planning our summer vacation.
We’ll see if it helps wrangle the fuzz in my brain.
Even so, June has turned out another whirlwind. See y’all in July!
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(Unless you follow me on Substack Notes…then you can get my next Vegas Ordinary as soon as tomorrow!)
Now that we’ve finally put our books up on shelves after a decade in the garage, I pull random old books to enjoy before bedtime. The bedroom is getting crowded with a pile that needs to go back downstairs.
Here are some notes before sending them back into the stacks.
Staying by the bed
Baron in the Trees, Italo Calvino—I’m still slowly working through this book. I paused to read Cosmicomics and might get distracted by T-zero but I want to finish it sooner rather than later.
Letter on Ethics, Seneca—I enjoyed listening to the selected letters audiobook by Penguin so I picked up the complete letters translated by Margaret Graver last year. I finally started reading them; I’m enchanted by their brevity even though (spoiler warning) the later letters seem to run long.
The Unbroken Web, Richard Adams—This collection of stories has that pan-religious vibe from the 70/80’s. I most likely would have sent this back onto the shelves but I wrapped it up as a self-birthday present so I might as well give it a solid try in June.
Carlo Scarpa, The Complete Works—I borrowed this volum many times in college so I finally bought it as a birthday treat. In the past, I only looked at the images, but after spending 100 euros, I’m for damn sure reading the essays. Good lord, that’s some turgid writing. Architecture criticism at its finest.
Going back up
Cosmicomics, Italo Calvino—I’ve tried reading this many times over the years and finally broke through. It’s a tender collection of short stories based on scientific principles. I wonder if aging and kids have given me an appreciation for love stories.
Zhuangzi (Burton) & Lieh-tzu (Graham)—Always good to revisit two of the key texts of Daoism.
Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess—The boy was curious about chess so we played a few times. I pulled this book of the shelves because I find chess utterly impenetrable. I’ve never been good at with spatial games, much less a perfect information abstract. I slogged through a couple exercises before giving up even though I’m still enchanted by the structure of this book.
The 26 Letters, Oscar Ogg—Delightfully of its time though I wonder how it holds up with the historical scholarship over the past sixty years.
40 days dans le desert B, Moebius—Absolute classic. Trippy as fuck.
The Ode Less Travelled, Stephen Fry—I borrowed this book from the library when I thought I’d take my poetry experiments more seriously. Instead, work took over my life. In stressful times, the pursuit of quality may have the paradoxical side effect of stifling production. Time to send it back to the public library.
Under the Jaguar Sun, Italo Calvino—I was searching for something to calm the mind, but this was a bit too intense. Turned out that my subconscious was close, since the correct answer was Cosmicomics.
Journey to the West(Yu)—Always good for a romp Great Sage Under Heaven. Plus a little poetry.
Charles M. Russell—Nice overview of the artist’s work. Holy hell, the wild west was indeed wild. Life of all types was cheap back then.
Signal to Noise, Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean—The art holds up. The writing is what you’d expect from a 30 year old writing about a protagonist twice his age. I loved Gaiman, but I’ve soured over the past few years. One day I’ll revisit Sandman, but I’m dreading the potential realization that I’ve outgrown this as well.
Giovanni Battista Piranesi—A collection of his prints. If drawn accurately, the scale of the ruins are unimaginable, towering over the inglorious lives conducted under these decaying edifices. Quite unsafe to stay in those shadows, though I guess you’ll take what you can get in the heat of summer. Beyond antiquity though, his renderings are sick. Beyond rad.
Carlo Scarpa—In college, I picked up this Taschen survey on the (relative) cheap. It’s a passable intro to his work, though with the obnoxious style repeating text with multiple languages on each page. Then again, it reminded me of the greatness of Scarpa which lead to my big birthday purchase (noted above).
In January, I wrote a letter to a colleague who is rejoining to our team. Selfishly, I’m excited that she returned.
This was my first tiny poem-calligraphies to leave the house. It was also one of the last ones that I wrote.
It’s been a long 2024, and we haven’t even started the biennial budgeting season—that hits tomorrow.
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Unfortunately, my publication schedule will continue to be sporadic. After we get our budget season assignments, it’s off to the races through June.
Beyond the increasing workload, it has been a tumultuous time for our team. Hopefully things will settle down, but it’s not surprising that my Commute Music project has stalled on Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult over the past month.
I just started moving again with Blue Mitchell. Yes, I’m slightly out of alphabetical order. It was a necessary fudge.
Hopefully I’ll get another post out in May, and then June, but frankly it’s been all about work for the past quarter. I’ve already told my supervisor that I’ll try to keep up the pace up through July 1st, but after that it stops.. (He’s the best boss I’ve had, but we’re all going through it together). Maybe I’ll breathe again.
When buying the house we agreed to address a few minor plumbing issues. Easy enough to do during the negotiations, but the work still had to be done. We changed the innards for two of our toilets, switched faucet stems, and installed a new kitchen sink with our own RO filter.
That sink took three days, five trips to Home Depot, and a couple angle stops.
Yes, hiring a plumber would have been more sensible but I learned stuff and enjoyed the challenge (aside from multiple trips to the hardware store!)
Shoutout to YouTube…there’s no way I would have started this project without all those tutorials. That site is the greatest DIY reference library ever assembled. It has so many videos for every task, with a myriad of angles and opinions.
I hope more folks make use of this empowering free resource. Simple repairs are one of the easiest ways to earn a feeling of accomplishment on a weekend afternoon.
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David Auerbach, Carols in the Caves
The sound engineers tried to capture the essence in being a massive cave, but the whole album sounded distant. Everything felt flat.
This might be a good holiday background album, but does not have presence as the central audio feature for a drive.
The album cover looks great.
Babyland, You Suck Crap
Last week, I complained about noise. This one is all about noise, but I had fun.
Sampling a multitude of instruments (and implements) gave the audio palate an enjoyable richness. I suspect growing up with electronica and hip-hop makes me prefer variety when getting bashed over the head.
I wish I had detailed memories of attending that concert with my landscaper colleague. Sadly, I just don’t remember much from such events. A few visual flashes and a plastic disc is all I have from 20 years ago.
Elevate, The Architect
While looking up this album last week, I learned about the genre “Math Rock“. I had to give it a second shot now that I know “It is characterized by complex, atypical rhythmic structures (including irregular stopping and starting), counterpoint, odd time signatures, and extended chords.”
Still very noisy. Most likely still not my thing, but the architectural cover makes a lot more sense with the music behind it.
Am I enjoying this album more because I’m now aware that it’s supposed to be sophisticated? Is the emperor clothed or nekkid?
The first week of the commute music project started well. I listened to Aceyalone twice before slogging through a lot of guitar noise.
Aceyalone, A Book of Human Language
I don’t know enough about hiphop to judge the rapping.
Clearly catered to art school nerds who want deep subjects and big words over late 90’s gangsta bling.
Love the sonic landscape, especially the bass riff in “the Hunt” (sampled Coltrane’s Ole).
Aerosmith, Classics Live!
Following the complexity of Aceyalone, this was a wall of noise.
Lots of electric guitars and distortion. Is this rock? I’m listening to too much jazz.
Thoughts of youth culture, what will my daughter think of the pop characters of her childhood when she’s in her mid-40’s?
Al and the Transamericans, Analog
Plenty of electric guitar, but not as frenetic.
More melodic and borrows from old tunes and instruments. Very Americana, the banjo makes an appearance.
Slightly awkward, in a likable way.
Elevate, The Architect When writing this post, I found I had swapped the band and the album title. Oops, but I like having it on the first page of the binder.
More noise. I’m not built for rock.
I do buy things for the cover. In this case, the cover and the title. I’d do it again, even though this will be my one and only listen through this album.
Google image search led me to the Santa Maria della Grazie in Milan. When it works, the internet is amazing. Fun fact, the Leonardo Da Vinci’s Last Supper took 21 years to restore (1978-1999).
Bonus (?) Last February, I shared Ruthie Foster’s rendition of “War Pigs” to mark the first year of Russia’s latest invasion into Ukraine. October brought further horrors with Israel-Palestine. Let’s hope for better in 2024.
Three weeks ago, we moved to our new house. Here are three last shots from the old place.
The kids made a car on their penultimate night at this home. They filled the trunk with stuffies, turned off the lights, and drove the dark roads following the sat-nav until they found a motel.
Here are the last two pieces of bread that I baked in the building. The gods gave me a run of good loaves for the past few weeks. (If you want a great sourdough info, check out Chapin‘s newsletter).
Finally, the last morning routine in this bedroom with a quick gesture sketch, continuous line drawing, and tiny poem. Shoutouts to ashlyn,Citlaflor, Hazel Burgess Art, Beth Kempton, Wendy MacNaughton, and Nadia Gerassimenko for helping mold this regular morning jaunt…which has unfortunately become irregular after I was coincidentally dragged back into the office after four years of working from home after this same weekend.
So in both ways this was the end of an era. Four years ago, we were living with my in-laws. Their tenant left this rental house a few months in late 2019 and they had not found a replacement before the before the pandemic hit. Given the parents’ age, I exiled myself to this place for a several long months—which included my first grind through the brutish biennial budgeting season as a state worker.
After things settled down the family joined me here. The kids were 6 and 2. They kept growing. I guess we did too. At the end of 2023, we bought our own place. The kids are now 10 and almost 6.
The “real Vegas” is not the spectacle of the Strip. It’s our quiet lives in these beige stucco boxes carpeting the Valley. Like most of suburban America, it’s a splendorous existence that we barely appreciate.
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It’s been three weeks at the office. It’s a treat to regularly hang out with my coworkers in person. But that marginal benefit is far outweighed by the cost of commuting every day.
There are so many things I’d rather do than piloting a metal box across the town to accomplish tasks that I’ve done at home for four years. But I’ve also heard horror stories about workers who have taken ill advantage of remote work. So I get why my massive organization settled on this brute solution.
I can’t complain too much. Commuting is a mere annoyance, even if the unnecessary nature of this blanket directive makes it particularly irksome.
So I thought up a new project to redeem the time. I’m going to march through my collection of CD’s in alphabetical order by performer.
I will listen to each disc at least once through. After that, I can re-listen and skip tracks before I move on to the next album. If I buy any new CD’s, I’ll listen to them once and then slot them in line.
This project popped into my noggin while listening to an ambiance album featuring the didgeridoo. I was underwhelmed, but I thought about the artist. I presume he thought it was a great piece of art, at least the best he could do at the time he published it. At that moment, I decided to give each of my musicians at least one generous, full hearing.
For three decades I’ve been listening to the spoken word—sermons on tape, talk radio, and podcasts. As I get older, I’m being overwhelmed by the verbal clutter. Let’s fill that metal box with music.
The kids insisted on reading Grumpy Monkey Oh No It’s Christmas before leaving while Mama checked out of the supermarket.
Mama was not amused as she waited outside. Her ire disappeared when I rushed out with blood soaking through his mask, dripping down his throat.
He didn’t complain about a bloody nose until the book was done!
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Apple Vision Pro has finally entered the conversation, on Youtube and in my podcasts. “Spatial computing” will be the future!
Great! I’m doing nothing.
The iPhone didn’t hit its stride until the 4—why spend hard cash on alpha technology?
More importantly, I want the six year old to remember a world without VR.
Growing up in the early 80’s, I was among the first cohort who always had a computer at home, but we didn’t connect to the internet until college. I’m grateful that my youth was disconnected from the world wide web.
I’m not so stubborn to skip the ubiquitous internet of today’s reality, but I feel no rush to interjaculate our children’s world with digital light knifed through their pupils.
My former intern in private practice joined the State Public Works Division half a year ago. He finally passed his last architectural exam.
At the time I was working from home, but I snuck into the office with party hats and poppers to properly celebrate at the Monday morning staff meeting.
Nothing like the smell of gunpowder in the morning.
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Getting your license is hard. 2010 was my year of misery, a slogging through seven tests. Never a moment of peace with the enormity always under the pillow.
And I was lucky, working only 30 hours a week. Those great recession paychecks were ugly, but I had “free” time to study.
Unfortunately, my guy’s celebration was short lived. In the past couple of weeks, we had a shakeup at our agency. He got picked to run our most public project, a room with our administrator, right before we head into the nasty budget season and the birth of his first child.
I’ll be there for him, just like I have all these years, cheering him on.
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Now that he’s been transferred out of our main office, I’ve been called back in from working remote.
After an hour of climbing the new play structure in an outdoor atrium, they raced around the small berms at Downtown Summerlin after the holiday light parade.
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This was our first holiday season (almost) fully out of our shell. We’re still masked and not dining out, but rubbed lots of elbows these past few months.
We attended the Downtown Summerlin Halloween parade, trick and treated at Calstock Court, visited the Clark County Museum Heritage Holiday, stood in line for the illuminated cactus garden at Ethel M (overrated), and came back to the outdoor mall for their Christmas parade. I forgot how busy the holidays can be!
With time, I wonder how we will judge this four year hibernation1.
It wasn’t all bad — before the pandemic we had tired of the dining scene, so we saved a ton of cash and learned how to cook white-people cuisine. We also successfully avoided COVID (so far).
But it wasn’t cheap. We worry how this long time might affect the kids. They seem fine, but are we deluding ourselves? Like everything else parenting, I guess we’re making shit up before we reap the whirlwind.
We went to the Clark County Museum’s historical park for their annual “Heritage Holidays” celebration. It’s been four years since our last visit, a completely different world ago.
I presume he enjoyed it a lot more than when he was twenty months old!
This photo was taken in a tiny two bedroom house, originally constructed in Henderson, Nevada around the Second World War.
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We have been extremely cautious about the pandemic so we still aren’t eating out. As such, much of this info is out of date, but I wanted to mention a few favorite Vegas places, but please do your own research.
Vegas Restaurants
Ramen was just becoming a craze and hadn’t made it to Houston before we left. So when we arrived, we went straight to Monta. It was still our favorite before the pandemic hit, though I’m not sure it’s totally worth the long wait.
Pacific Island Taste was a favorite at my office. My co-worker still vouches for it and we had them cater our holiday potluck a month ago. Get some Hawaiian flavors at the 9th island!
If I was going fancy on the Strip, I guess I’d pick the Bouchon at the Venetian. Strip restaurants are usually money grabs by celebrities so it lacks the passion you find with chefs at their original passions. But we’ve had a couple memorable Easter brunches with friends up at the top of this hotel.
Vegas Coffee Shops
Tony Hsieh’s Downtown Project wasted a ridiculous amount of money, but one of its legacies is the sunken courtyard with Mothership Coffee Roasters in the old Ferguson Motel in Downtown.
Nearby is Publicus, an independently owned coffee shop that has maintained a stellar reputation.
Le Paris Coffee and Pastry is an off strip gem on Decatur and Desert Inn. It was the place I’d take folks to show them the “real Vegas”.
Quirky Places in the Desert
The Clark County Museum is a great deal with general admission at $2.00. We should go there when the sun is out, I’ve heard there is more there to be enjoyed.
Cactus Joe’s is a nursery and variety store. Given that it’s primarily outdoors, this was one of our first visits when we started coming out of our shell. It’s a fun shop, even if none of the stuff matches our aesthetic tastes.
Calico Basin is on the outside of the famous Red Rock Canyon. It’s free and won’t involve a long wait to visit.
If you want to check out a big piece of civil engineering, the Hualapai Lot Trail Head gets you right there. It’s wild to hike in the hills overlooking the city, turn a corner and feel like you’ve disappeared into the desert.
Las Vegas Books is a used bookstore that opened a couple of years ago by owners who moved here from Minnesota. This is the quintessential Las Vegas story. Come here and work hard, and you will establish a reputation in no time.
And if you want decade-old tips for Houston (we left in 2013) here are few highlights.
We loved walking through the Menil art collections. It was our last stop before leaving the city.
The quirky Orange Show is an inspiring testament to what one determined person can make.
The Port Authority offers a super cool, free 90 minute boat tour of the shipping channel.
If you have time for a full day detour, run up to the Kimbell Art Museum at Fort Worth. This building is a required visit for any architect.
Houston Nostalgia in Restaurant Form
Cafe Brasil is where I started a Friday morning caffeine and contemplation routine, with a shot of espresso and a scone.
Wandering around the neighborhood, we discovered La Guadalupana and fell in love with their pastries (almond croissants!), vampiro (beet, carrot, and orange juice), and their mojarra frita.
Our favorite breakfast plate was the migas (Mexican style egg scramble with tortilla strips) at Baby Barnaby’s. This American posh fusion took it this TexMex breakfast plate to another level.
In Bellaire (Chinatown), we would get the Spicy Fried Tofu at Star Snow Ice in the Dun Huang Plaza. It paired great with their sweet Hot Tofu soup. Sometimes we would start a meal run with Fried Tofu as an appetizer, go to another restaurant for the entree, and return for Hot Tofu as dessert.
Hopefully I didn’t steer y’all wrong in with the food, but I can vouch for the other stuff. And I’m always happy to chat about my towns. I hope you have fun in the desert (or swamp!)
The boy is notorious at not doing his part of cleaning up. One Sunday, the girl figured out a hack, enticing him to help. They took videos of each other cleaning up — and played it backwards on the iPad to great hilarity. Viola! A clean playroom!
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Our daughter had jaundice that kept us in the hospital an extra night after her birth.
Late into that third night, I walked around the ward in a sleep deprived haze. I suddenly realized that my parents were just making shit up as they went. I also realized that this was now my fate for the coming decades.
Maybe some parents know the answers; do they figure it out after the 3rd or fourth kid?
But I ain’t got no epiphany to share after almost ten years in this parenting game.
I’d love to think that I might have something to do with raising them right. But I suspect that our main job is to avoid traumatizing them and to avoid spoiling them. And to share cool stuff along the way.
Between those two wide bounds with that fuzzy directive, I wonder if we actually exert all that much influence over our kids.
Who knows, I’ve been making shit up all along the way.
Instead of the usual everyday magic, here is the holiday card that I posted onto Facebook for my friends.
For the past two years, I’ve been hassling the family to take a hike in the hills above our house. Once you get up the slope, it’s an easy jaunt down the old mining road.
About a half a mile in, you come across the foundation of an old building. I have no idea about its original purpose, but it’s now a canvas for graffiti artists and a delight for the occasional wanderer.
The kids jumped around this colorful place as the sun set behind our heads, bathing the Las Vegas strip with a golden orange aura.
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While cleaning up our PC desktop, I found a photo from our visit to Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego at La Jolla last March.
This was quite the treat because Vegas regrettably is short on art museums.
It wasn’t easy to wrangle two young kids around high priced pieces of art; the guards were not amused. But after years of not seeing high art, it was so totally worth it.
With a location a block away from the Pacific ocean, this museum was magic for sure, though hardly “everyday”.
Here’s to finding magic throughout the new year!
A five year old dangerously close to a Peter Alexander sculpture
The Sunday after Thanksgiving, we went to the park to so they could ride their bikes. He proudly said knew how to ride a bike. I said, not really — I had taken the training wheels off his bike. He was unhappy about the change but made a go at it. Not perfect and couldn’t keep it up for a sustained period…but he did it!
In the month since, his skill has jumped with each trip to the park. He needs to learn how to brake, but it’s remarkable how quickly they pick things up!
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I finished grad school in time to get slammed by the Great Recession. I avoided being laid off but dropped to 30 hours a week. I spent some of those extra 10 hours as regular at Cafe Brasil.
When things picked up, I still showed up on Friday mornings to sip an espresso before heading out to the office. I’d ponder the week that was almost complete and consider the coming weekend.
Normally these sessions wouldn’t result in any insight. I’d often just chat with another regular. But occasionally something would pop up. Once in a blue moon the “brilliant” idea might surprisingly turn out to actionable.
Unfortunately, adulting means outgrowing a loving parent who can disappear training wheels at the right moment. A distant second best may be regular semi-contemplative practice to reset the mind.
A few nights ago, kids brought Mommy Bear, Daddy Bear, and Adventure for my bedtime. They also gave me an old sweater to dress Daddy Bear. I put it on him this morning, brought in Bear Bear and took a family portrait.
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This post is an example of why I am such a huge proponent of sharing your work online, again and again over time.
Can you see it? (Clue: I’ll keep original formatting on the previous alphabet.)
As I was setting this post up for this next round of images, I accidentally hit a comma instead of a period.
Of course! I always wanted an non-intrusive spacer, and what’s smaller than a period? But a period is a touch too insubstantial and carries weight as an ending. A comma is a tad bigger and actually means “pause”.
It took me six posts to figure this out….or sixty-one posts including my OPM letters, which used a ~ tilde. I could have never thought this up in the abstract.
A digital space of your own gives you the space to grow. It lets you experiment one step at a time. Just start! With something imperfect! Now!
And one day, the gods may grant you a flash of insight, possibly the perfect typo at the right time. But you gotta show up, again and again.
She balanced the spoon on the edge of her bowl and had me record it for posterity. In the meanwhile he snuck away from the table, most likely to google Pokémon while she read her ebook.
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In the theme of “E”, shout out to Everyday Magic thread on Notes. Every Saturday Charlene Story starts a thread for people to share their beautiful mundane worlds. Here’s the one from last week.
Every few weeks, I collect my recent contributions for this blog series. While there, I wander through all the entries. It’s a great mental reset to walk the world through others’ eyes (and be jealous of everyone else’s luscious green landscapes!)
Starting a thread once a week might not seem like a big effort. But having blogged on a schedule, I know how hard it is to act consistently without fail over months, which is why I don’t blog on a schedule now!
So thanks again Charlene, for being our wonderful Everyday Magic host!
Ever since the got a Pikachu stuffie from the claw machine at the Primm Mural Gallery (formerly an outlet mall), they’ve been into Pokemon. He wanted a Pikachu and she drew an Eevee with a witches hat. Their lights from the jack-o-lanterns left a bold mark on the ceiling.
The unseasonably warm autumn meant that these poor pumpkins went mold in a couple of days. But still, it was a day of carving and a few good photos.
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That Pikachu might have been the most impactful dollar that we’ve spent (for good or ill). It’s turned into a costume, a change in TV habits. Pokemon Go has me walking in circles around the house to hatch eggs and the kids just forced me to try out the Pokemon Sleep tracking app. They’re constantly drawing different Pokemon when they aren’t playing. He’ll walk up and start talking about random creatures and evolutions, without no explanation or context (of course!)
I recently heard on the Cortex podcast that Pokemon may be the most successful IP of all time. It’s hard to argue from this household. Lord help us if we get into the TCG card game, or if we ever get a Nintendo.
I used up the last of the Waterman blue my dad gave me years ago. My guess is that this ink is half a century old. The boy helped me fill the cartridge so there’s three generations in this pen.
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In my recent search for pens, I’ve tried up a bunch of cheap pens. It’s fun to explore each assemblage of plastic and steel.
As I mentioned a few weeks ago, if I could only pick two it would be the Pilot Kakuno and Pilot Parallel. The Kakuno with an extra fine nib is a tight writing instrument, and the Parallel is a unique tool that is creates an expressive line and suited for calligraphy.
If I could to create a second pairing, the Sailor Fude Nib Pen is a similarly wide pen that goes great with the Sailor Compass. At $30, its twice as expensive as the other pens, but the build quality is noticeably better than cheaper pens.
After graduating college, I treated myself to a Pelikan M600 which now sells for about half a grand. Even accounting for the piston mechanism (that has survived two decades of neglect) and the butter smooth gold nib, I don’t see how the M600 is $470 better than the Compass.
As with many things in this world, the first few bucks makes a huge difference in quality. After that, the extra dollars only temporarily mollifies the ravenous criticism of a connoisseur.
We went to hallOVeen at the Magical Forest, a little amusement park that the non-profit Opportunity Village opens up for fundraising during the Halloween and Christmas holidays.
The kids enjoyed the Blizzard. Mama and I only lasted once each. So we let them sit together for another spin around and around and around and around and around…
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The kids are growing up fast. Only yesterday, they needed us to play with them. Now they keep each other amused (when they aren’t arguing!). And she’s got books. The whole world on her Kobo with a Libby account. She’s read through the Harry Potter series at least twice and was Hermione this Halloween (he was Pikachu).
Right now they’re watching Harry Potter #2 downstairs. I can’t do it. I don’t have anything against the series. I was just old enough to miss the excitement over the series as it came out. We watched the first movie and it did nothing for me. And the thought of spending 283 minutes on the second film pains my soul.
I’ve never been good at entertainment if I wasn’t in the mood for it. I wish I could be a little less judgemental when watching TV, but instead I’m up here writing notes about my finicky media habits.
The kids helped Pikachu make a little candy shack, turned off the lights, and lit the room with a red plastic cup over a flashlight.
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As the first letter of the alphabet I have a lot of A’s. There won’t be as many for future letters, and even less when I hit the numbers. But hey, let’s start with a bAng!
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One of the best firm names I’ve come across is “Atelier One”, a British structural engineering company. Why? Cause I still remember it nineteen years after I saw them give a lecture at Rice. Can I remember anything they did? Nope. But what a sticky name to stay in my consciousness after all these years.
Last week, I uploaded the letter “Z” of Alphabet Magic, pairing photos of everyday life with sketches of my hand forming the ASL manual alphabet.
Just another post, but I couldn’t let it pass without comment.
I took more art studios than architecture studios in college, but stopped drawing over the past two decades; constipated with perfection. After turning forty, I eliminated drawing from of my list of future projects (along with reading Chinese and the Guan Dao kung fu form).
Then Post came online last year. I wanted to help make the place that I wanted to see, so this alphabet series was my contribution. The winter of 2022-2023 was a magical season when quirky artists came together for a mass experiment. (Much as Substack has become a beautiful writer’s oasis).
When it became clear Post management was focused on news and opinion, I hopped over to Substack and turned the drawings into a formal series, pairing it with my contributions to Charlene Storey’s weekly thread of “everyday magic”.
Twenty-six weeks later I’ve posted half a year of hands and magic.
So what next? Well I have plenty more hands. After joining Substack, Wendy MacNaughton hosted a 30 day sketching challenge around the same time Ashlyn Ashantee got me really into fountain pens. So I kept drawing with hatching and new wacky nibs.
Next week, I’ll start the second series, with a bit more variety, still with a pop of everyday magic, but with less alliterative titles. Maybe I’ll throw in the occasional calligraphy experiment and zine (inspired by a conversation with d.w. and John Ward on Notes).
In home, school, or work, I’ve learned that projects start with promise, grind through midlife, and shutter with little fanfare. But I’ve also learned that the anticipation of triumph will eventually realized in retrospect long after the moment has faded.
As I mature, I’m slowly embracing the process. It’s a privilege to draw. It’s a privilege to do anything beyond the bare necessities. It’s a privilege to share — thanks for reading!
The results are up to the fickle gods, but we can always exhilarate in the chase.
The boy made a potion with sugar (flowers) and salt (sand) to put out a fire (thorny weeds) in the backyard. His hands were stained with red ink from doodling with my flexy fountain pen.
The kids woke up and saw my sketchbook with pens on the desk. The flipped the page and made their mark.
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Taegan MacLean’s One Word substack is one of the best projects on the internet, and his latest video Woodbine is another great installment in this series. Check it out!
Last month, Hurricane Hillary slowly worked its way up from Mexico, prompting warning texts from from NOA. The boy kept asking about when the flood was going to hit. We explained that floods are bad events, but that couldn’t dampen his excitement.
Turned out to be a minor event. We got a little rain on Friday afternoon which led to a massive double rainbow during the golden hour.
We finally got our heavy rains and street flooding a week later — from a storm that had no name.
My rediscovery of fountain pens has resulted in a more purchases. The hedonic treadmill led from cheap flexible nibs to boutique inks and now better paper. Ironically, the photo below shows drawings with decades old ink, but on a fresh Rhodia pad. And yes, it’s a world of difference from the cheap Office Depot steno pads I’ve been using.
Along the way I’ve also discovered Pinterest after being nudged by some folks on Substack. It’s an amazing place for reference imagery (duh!). I had assumed that Instagram would be the place for such a library, but Meta has turned their place into a video service.
Here’s to new (and old) tools, toys, and platforms.
On our way home from San Diego, we checked out the dying outlet mall at Primm. The adjoining casino is trying to revive it by making the cavernous space a huge mural gallery.
There were a couple claw machines at one end of the concourse. After watching Toy Story, they begged to try it out. I told them to not expect anything.
We had one dollar.
We got lucky.
This is a $200 drawing, the most expensive that I’ve made.
Late last year, I started sketching again, drawing the letters of the alphabet in my steno notepad. After drawing the “R” at the top, I tried again on decent paper, splashing an ink wash. It blew my mind that this could come from my hand.
It kept me drawing. Half a year later, I found Ashlyn Antsee’s series on fountain pens and bought a mix of nibs and new inks…and I plan on upgrading from the cheap Office Depot steno pads.
It’s a fuzzy line between art, consumerism, and privilege. I’m grateful that it’s no big deal for us to buy fancy drawing supplies.
We spent the a day at the New Children’s Museum in San Diego, filled with cool installation pieces. The highlight is Whammock! by Toshiko Horiuchi MacAdam.
Last time we went was before the pandemic, when the boy was 18 months old. He’s now her age then. He took to this piece like a fish in water. Life took a long pause but kept moving regardless.
Last week, we got a wooden mannequin at Ikea. He lay straight in a plastic tube. The kids called him RIP Mr. Little Wooden Guy.
Mama took him out of the cylindrical coffin. He’s a stiff little fellow; his hips don’t rotate. The kids danced with him around the house.
I bought someone to draw. A figure who wouldn’t run away. The kids gave him a little headband.
But I wanted someone who can do a full range of poses. A mannequin who could do the Eight Brocades. The kids hinted that Mr. Little Wooden Guy would love to have a friend.
<h2><a href="https://www.grizzlypear.com/nosy-nabobs-needlessly-nattered-nasty-negatives-about-nanas-nasturtium-necklace/">Nosy nabobs needlessly nattered nasty negatives about Nana’s nasturtium necklace.</a></h2>
<p><figure class="wp-block-image size-large"><img alt="An outline handsketch of a hand shaping the ASL American manual letter “N”, in red ink on a yellow spiral bound steno notebook. " class="wp-image-51990" height="1024" src="https://www.grizzlypear.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/N-1k-716x1024.jpg" width="716"/></figure>
The boy’s craft table had a ribbon of markers in holders of toilet paper rolls. Mama glued them together in groups of four and six. It’s a nice modular system that the kids decorated with markers.
As she was heading to bedtime, the girl handed me Daddy Bear. In the morning I found him on the floor next to my bed. I tucked him back in bed for extra rest before starting my morning.
To celebrate our 10 year anniversary, I’m sharing this house that has been a part of our marriage for 9 years and 7 months.
The 1,100 sf house was constructed in 1952 and needed a complete renovation.
Along with an complete update of the plumbing and electrical systems, the kitchen was rearranged with the former laundry room opened up for interior access and the insertion of a new powder room within the existing footprint.
Exterior work included a new roof, retrofitting the carport structure, and new concrete flatwork.
We performed the work as owner, architect, and general contractor overseeing the major trades. We also installed and refinished the interior throughout the house.
Last week, our daughter designed and built a roller coaster from materials at home. Watching the girl press against her 3rd grade deadline surfaced messy memories of late night college studios.
Two years ago, a third of Basecamp (now 37signals) quit after the owners suddenly shut down the DEI committee and banned all political talk on their internal chat. I’m certain that number was inflated because they offered a generous separation package of up to six month’s pay to those who quit.
I’m not going to argue the merits of those decisions, but there are three lessons from the drama worth highlighting. Two lessons relate to our craft as Owner Project Managers, the third is a question that I ponder whenever I think about my career.
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