I woke up thinking about a specific building problem, a complex dream. I was building a Cubist house and couldn't figure out exactly how the load was to be carried. One way or another, you have to carry the roof load down to the foundation; you can buttress, you can king-post, you can throw in some kickers, but you have to carry the weight. Otherwise the whole thing falls on your head. I built a roof in Utah, a hyperbolic paraboloid; concrete is an amazing product, if you can support it until it dries. Water is the issue, it's so goddamn heavy. My favorite way of building is to choose the high ground, so you controlled drainage, mound up the dirt as a form, then dig it out, after the pour. No windows, one door. Another alternative is to just build a barge, and when the water gets high you just float downstream. Build well-anchored flexible houses that bend with tornadoes. Yeah, I said to Michael, Peregrine hawks, they nest on top of the Masonic Lodge. As far as wether or not we could construe meaning, I'm at a loss. Twenty three days without a phone and then I lose power too. It's a beautiful cool day, just a light wind, and both the phone and power are out? Am I wrong to be paranoid? Ended up spending the entire day reading about what you might call "vernacular" architecture and building techniques. I love this stuff. Building with rammed earth, burlap bags dipped in cement slurry, clay blocks, bags of sand plastered on both sides (I saw one of these, a restaurant in Moab, Utah, very nice), bamboo reinforced concrete, wattle-and-daub, post and beam, the list is endless. Move to a new place and everything is different. What the first people anywhere do is determine what local resource can provide shelter, then grow enough grain to make whiskey. It's the American way. Corn is most easily transported as high-proof liquor. And as Bob D said, everyone wants to get stoned.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment