You Think That Guy's in the Band?

          Three years ago some friends were coming into town for a weekend-long music festival, and there were other concerts around town capitalizing on the crowd.  My best friend and I go into a bar adjoining the music hall; we've always understood each other deeply though I have long considered him more connective & social than myself.  I'm feeling out of place, my self-consciousness playing its usual tricks of having me believe I am sticking out as an obvious square in a dimly-lit room full of talent-possessing, love-making, interpersonally-adept people.
          As we get toward the back of the crowded bar I see this tall, thin-as-a-wire guy - who looks as young as we are - with an intensely asymmetrical haircut sitting rakishly in a booth with two very "alternative" styled, patently attractive girls on him.
          I tapped my friend and said, "You think that guy's in the band?"  My friend turned to me, looked me straight in the eyes with amusement and how damn enjoyable the universe is, and in a moment of unrestrained brilliance said something that changed my life:
          "Everyone in the room is in the band."

Designing to Contain Your Shit

It's impossible for some architects to stay away from interior design, for hopefully obvious reasons.  And why should they?  The two are complements...isn't it keen for a good racer to also be a good mechanic?

In designing interiors I'm trying to arrange, or even barely fit, my shit articulately into a space that some other fool designed poorly for the purpose.  In architecture, I'm designing a space to adequately, seamlessly, sans constraint nor exaggeration, fit my shit.

And if you think, in either case, "shit" means personal belongings, you are mistaken.