A time when time was not Darkness cannot say: “I precede the coming light”, but there is a sense in which light can say, “Darkness preceded me”. Doubtless there is an event, X, in the future, by reference to which we may say that we are at present in a category of Not-X, but until X occurs, the category of Not-X is without reality. Only X can give reality to Not-X; that is to say, Not-Being depends for its reality upon Being. In this way we may faintly see how the creation of Time may be said automatically to create a time when Time was not, and how the Being of God can be said to create a Not-Being that is not God. Dorothy Sayers, The Mind of the Maker darknesslighttimebeing
Thin ice Today the 'depth of our being' stands on thin ice. Juhani Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin: Architecture and the Senses coldbeing
The utter nothingness of being Everything written symbols can say has already passed by. They are like tracks left by animals. That is why the masters of meditation refuse to accept that writings are final. The aim is to reach true being by means of those tracks, those letters, those signs - but reality itself is not a sign, and it leaves no tracks. It doesn’t come to us by way of letters or words. We can go toward it, by following those words and letters back to what they came from. But so long as we are preoccupied with symbols, theories and opinions, we will fail to reach the principle. "But when we give up symbols and opinions, aren’t we left in the utter nothingness of being?" Yes. Kimura Kyūho, On the Mysteries of Swordsmanship The Elements of Typographic Style zenmeaningsymbolsbeingreality
What will be has always been A Quote by Louis Kahn understandinggroup.com Ruins, Rub-outs, and Trash timebeing
revisiting architectural blogging An Article by Alan Jacobs blog.ayjay.org I have appropriated from Brian Eno and others the distinction between architecture and gardening, and have described my blog as a kind of garden. But lately I’ve been revisiting the architecture/gardening distinction and I have come to think that there is something architectural about writing a blog, or can be – but not in the sense of a typical architectural project, which is designed in advanced and built to specifications. Rather, writing a blog over a period of years is something like building the Watts Towers. Simon Rodi didn’t have a plan, didn’t even have a purpose: he just started building. His work was sustained and extended by bricolage, the acquisition and deployment of found objects – and not just any objects, but objects that the world had discarded as useless, as filth. You put something in here, then something else, you discover, fits there … over time you get something big and with a discernible shape. Not the regular shape envisioned in architectural drawings, but nevertheless something that can be pleasing or at least interesting to look at – an organic and irregular shape. A geometry of irregular forms. architectureblogginggardens