Horizon

Thanksgiving Day was an interesting one for Nate in Phoenix – perhaps the first adventure where he learned more about himself than his city.

Thanksgiving 2014 was a quiet day. Nate baked a pie and put up Christmas lights at his childhood home. There was a baseline comfort of being home coupled with a rising discomfort with what is “home”.  The solitude of the moment exacerbated the emotion. The quietness of North 29th Avenue pierced the heart.

The placement of Christmas lights was a challenge. It was a challenge to agree on the placement. It was a challenge not to take control on a house that was no longer his. It was a challenge to meet creative proposals of change with resistance. It was a challenge not to be frustrated and immediately disengage from the entire situation.

It was matter of the eternal juxtaposition of the male and female way combined with the inherent familiar resistance to change in his maternal clan.  In that case, only Uncle Mike would understand in that intimate, empathic way. What Nate wouldn’t have given to have one more call, one more laugh. Sadness overcame.

God felt distant. Father felt absent. Would Nate ever felt like he had one again? Would Nate ever be a good one? Would Nate ever be one at all? Feelings of doubt and mourning came like a thief in the night.

It suddenly became clear that Nate is living in the tension of growing up and wanting to be a grown up. For possibly the first time, Nate feels estranged in his own family, but in a healthy way. Rather than feeling abandoned, he is feeling called away, called to have a family of his own.

To date, paralytic father wounds and fear are status quo. Without doubt, those lies will eternally linger in the background, flaring up intermittently. Only God can equip Nate with the tools to walk in the confidence that a better way is possible.

The journey into Phoenix was no doubt an initial success. Nate quickly became surrounded. The words of Jack Schull now haunt him nightly. “Live the connected life, not the surrounded life”. The next step is becoming connected, which means becoming vulnerable - real talk - with himself, strangers and the future Mrs. B, whoever she may be.

Better on Paper

The city still boasts 85 degree highs as Thanksgiving passes by. Commercials and Christmas lights are the only indication that a season change is on the horizon. Even though it is scientifically oppositional, Phoenix spares no expense to bring outdoor ice skating to the heart of downtown. With hot chocolate in hand, Nate and his friends flock to City Scape regretfully bundled in sweltering sweaters and scarves. Cheerful music and glistening lights set the mood for this festive scene of “ice” and “snow” surrounding a tree that rivals the tree in Martha Stewart’s living room.

Nate and his friends could not be more excited to take part in this lovely affair. Perhaps Nate’s recurring desire to move east will even be pacified temporarily. As the pint-sized Zamboni prepares the ice, Nate and his childhood friends fill with anticipation until they are granted access to this magical wonderland.

The guard opens the gate, and to the ice they take. All goes well until the reality of the situation becomes evident after fifteen glorious seconds.

They are in Phoenix, Arizona. Most people in Phoenix, Arizona, by no fault of their own, do not know how to skate. Why should they? Skating is not ubiquitous. Skating is not a survival mechanism. The Phoenix Coyotes don’t have a track record that inspires future generations of ice hockey players. In fact, Nate had to travel all the way to the Crystal Ice House in Crystal Lake, Illinois to learn to skate at the late childhood age of 17. Filled with solid intentions, the participants of this event stumble and crawl as snails surpass.

Nate is by no means a seasoned architect yet, but even those who failed first year studio could predict that a donut shaped rink with an arbitrary peninsula  is no recipe for speed. Perhaps this is appropriate, as very few people on the ice possess the potential to achieve any speed with the exception of the one pro-hockey player who feels the need to endanger everybody else on the ice by flaunting his skills. Abandoning the peninsula, Nate resorts to shortening the course to a whopping 50’and avoids a majority of the other 3,486 people on the postage stamp piece of ice. As he laps Anonymous Child in Hoodie for the 16th time, he says a prayer that he won’t be used as a stopping wall  by him for a third time.

Before the story continues, it is time to stop and take a selfie with the fifteen other hopelessly romantic couples doing so at any given moment. While Bobby and Suzie create engagement photo gold and possibly their first child in the middle of the winter wonderland, the rest of the crowd negotiates death to avoid being a photo bomb or giving the future bride a black eye.

However, it is they year 2014, and still photography is a dying art. Fortunately, most Phoenicians are forward thinking and choosing the remember what ice looks like by taking video of their entire experience. These segments will be available on Vine and YouTube by searching #Sweaterweather #Phoenix #Iceskating #Romantic #TrueLove #Selfie.

As the night concludes, Nate leaves with the satisfying fact that he did not get any blisters from the solid plastic boot or maim anybody with the dull skate blade. Needless to say, redemption can be found once one has endured the well-intended comedy of errors better known as City Skate. Arcadia houses the fantastically hidden gem better known as Arcadia Ice Arena, where beer flows at the Ice House Tavern and skaters move in the forward direction.

The Houses of Portland (Street, Phoenix, AZ)

 

The journey continues for Nate as he explores the neighborhood he now calls home. Multiple seven mile journeys of city driving through unnecessary traffic to anti-climatic big box stores leads him to question why he makes such trips. The gasoline challenge suffers as a result of these zero-value added expeditions.

As the world bustles about this Black Friday for half priced toasters and TVs that were not nearly as good of deal as the TVs on sale last Tuesday, unbeknownst the masses, Nate begins his photographic essay of his neighborhood to more intimately discover what lies within in an effort to mitigate the aforementioned problem.

Nate hasn’t yet located an outlet for space heaters and a bottle of wine within walking distance for good reason. He only made it to the block behind his house, one of the most beautiful streets in Phoenix. Captivated by the seamless blend of modern and 1920s craftsman architecture, he invites all who are able to enjoy respite from the chaos of the city on the urban oasis that is Portland Street.

 

 

 

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

Host

As Nate continues to grow from a young bud in the architecture profession, it is a constant struggle to decide what is “good design”. This detail is the essence of his livelihood in this profession. Bad design has the inherent problem of low client yield. Low client yield creates hunger pains.

At a recent presentation by the grandson of Charles and Ray Eames, an idea was put forth that is so simple, yet so beautiful. Good design keeps the guest-host relationship at its core. Indirectly, this principle is extremely biblical. Love God, and love others. Hosting is an act of service that communicates and gifts love. Creating space, architectures, and products with inviting interface is the measure of success.

On a very elementary level would someone want to be in the space? Would they feel comfortable? Would they be engaged on a multi-sensory level? The founder of Local First AZ said that the greatest measure of satisfaction of a city is not the great weather or the convenience of big box stores. It is, in fact, the feeling of connection to the place on a personal level. Are the qualities of a place unique, inviting, and interesting? Does one have a sense of purpose and belonging while they are there?

 

The homes, businesses, and infrastructure of successful cities, whether they know it or not, have nailed the guest-host relationship. The guest-host relationship is a very selfless, human centered approach. Space that nails the guest-host relationship is the backyard at the OHSO brewery in Arcadia. With places for bikes and treats for man’s best friend, a night is well spent in this fun, inviting, energetic, and personal space. The challenge for Nate will be to go beyond the pen and paper and engage in his own creations the same way he would engage in all the spaces he so thoroughly enjoys.

Space in Time

It is the first real week in Phoenix for Nate since he has landed. Monday rolls around, and the calendar is blank. Knowing nobody and having no plans would typically be daunting or depressing for Nate. However, it is becoming clear that weekends with no plans typically turn out to be some of the best weekends. Nate is in an interesting season where he has more free time and fewer connections on his hands than usual. This is not his typical modus operandi. His Tucson calendar was fearfully packed back to back with social engagements and commitments. It sounds greatly fun and fulfilling, perhaps even productive. Saying “yes”, especially saying yes in the moment, just because there was space on the calendar somehow had become the default. Burnout quickly manifested, and emotions were splattered across the kitchen floor.

Phoenix is the opportunity for a cold-reboot.

Unbeknownst to the world, Nate is inherently clawing at the door and fighting thoughts of loneliness that are complete lies fueled by dangerous precedent.  Everything is more than fine.

Warren Buffet claims that “successful people say no to almost everything”. How could that be possible? The key would be disassociation with the lie that busyness is synonymous with success. What if a schedule free for spontaneity was the new benchmark for success?

This new season, however, is teaching him how imperative it is to leave space in time.These free times can be some of the richest and most fruitful. The conclusion – when one isn’t fueled by obligation – they are fueled by passion. They are doing what they do out of love. Love wins. Love wins the hearts of others and the heart of God.

The previously daunting vacant schedule turned out surpass most plans he would have contrived himself. Adequate rest was had. Quality time and service at the house was done joyfully and lovingly. Nate studied Fred Guirey architecture on the ASU campus and built a gingerbread replica with old friends. Guided by the wonderful Local First Arizona representative, he ate delicious celebrity chef pie at Pie Social. While walking off the pie coma, Nate happened upon the Fortouls Brothers art opening at the pop up 40OWLS gallery on North Central Avenue and McKinley. Nate has stories to tell about the weekend – stories he never would have had time to generate in the past. Stories he would have driven by wishing and wondering.

Not so ironically, Nate also learned the space in time concept beautifully complements the gasoline challenge. Biking takes time and requires alternative routes. This weekend took him down the enjoyable, quiet neighborhoods of Willo, Coronado, and Yaple Park. Neighborhoods that overflow with modest beauty unveiled by space in time. Slower paces allow for easier pauses. Pauses to think, process, and express gratitude.

As Nate becomes connected through work and church, will space remain? More importantly, what will happen to his heart if space disappears?