As my studies in Copenhagen are rapidly coming to an end, I have been trying harder and harder to appreciate the city. I have been so caught up in studies that I haven't had the time to actually enjoy the town. Now that may be an excuse since there are any number of my fellow architects who have been going out constantly and doing all sorts of cultural activities but I guess I just get so caught in my work that everything else just falls away. On the bright side, my work took a wonderful jump forward this semester. Under the guidance of my professor Courtney Coyne-Jenson (whose CV reads like a bowl of alphabet soup) I really moved forward in my work and I find it entertaining to look back at the first project I ever undertook at KU: a pavillion. At the time I thought I knew everything and I suppose the best part of any education is that moment when you've learned enough to know that you know nothing. At times it feels like a martial art. You study for years and years and years to achieve your black belt and only then does your study begin. To this point, I have been learning the proper moves and techniques (and continue to do so) but it will be a lifelong pursuit to truly master this craft. And I look forward to it very much.
After this semester I have added a few more moves to my bag of tricks, mostly in the realm of presentation which needed work. Again, looking back at last spring, I am almost embarassed by my boards. But that is the wonder of learning isn't it. To look back upon something that was once a point of pride with humor and a little condescension.
anyway, that was a digression. The point of this post was to talk about these last few days. On Tuesday night I went and saw Gogol Bordello play for free in front of the city hall here in downtown Copenhagen. Now if you have never been to a Gogol Bordello concert, I believe that you should. Especially for free, out of doors, in the snow and sleet. First off, I have never seen such a high energy show in all my life. Gogol Bordello, which can only be classified as Romanian Immigrant Punk is a collection of musicians from all over the world. The front man is on an acoustic guitar and looks like a gypsy (and is for my bet.) The violin player is in his early 60's with a grey ponytail and an ever present beret. There's an accordian player, a rastafarian bassist, the list goes on. They are incredible. After jumping and dancing for 2 hours, and you do jump and dance, the energy at these concerts is through the roof, we headed to the Architecture and Design end of year party. I was pretty well off by the time we arrived there, however the mood was high and everyone was looking to celebrate. The party took place at this basement bar that occupies the same building as some of the A&D studios called the Australian Bar. Although there is nothing australian about it, the allure is the tuesday night specials of 10 kroner beers and well shots. Everyone was taking advantage.
It was about one a.m. when I left the bar. And the party was in full swing. Now I know it is not like me to leave a party at it's apex but after getting into a Michael Jackson Dance Off with a stranger (ironically enough not to Michael Jackson music) and attempting my 360 spin to full splits move, I realized that there was going to be no more dancing or even standing that night without a great deal of pain. It seems I am no longer as flexible as I once was and managed to pull my left hamstring pretty fierce. I took a c ab home to the tune of 30 dollars but at least I didn't have to wait for the bus.
Yesterday was easy: I photographed my model from this project and moved out of studio. Shopped for xmas gifts and relaxed in my room.
Today I have been doing laundry and getting ready to pack. I have to go to the post office and mail home my keyboard (which will not be cheap) and my drawings from the first project.
Tomorrow I have an exam and my first weekend night out on Copenhagen, and coincidentally enough my last night in Copenhagen. Saturday to London and Sunday to St. Louis.
It feels so very weird. I feel like it was not so long ago I was in Ireland on the boat with my Dublin friends. It doesn't seem like 6 months since I was lost in the dorm, trying to find out where my room was with the bowling ball spinning in the pit of my stomach.
The time has sped by and I cannot but help to think that I wish I had done more.
But isn't that the curse of every good experience?
I wonder if I'll keep posting once I am home?
TW