I was having a conversation with a colleague about her thesis the other day. In short, it is an incredible endeavour to design housing in a third world country based on the distribution of water, helping those displaced by war and other causes from their vilalges begin a new life in the city. The whole thing makes perfect sense. It uses a practical system that could be implemented over time, helping people better their quality of life.
These are the kinds of theses that could change lives.
And then I think of mine and I try to figure out what the point of it is... besides to earn a degree and to explore photography as it pertains to the architectural world around me. What am I contributing? To the school.. to architecture as a profession... to Galt? It seems that most people at the school see a problem, research on how they're going to fix it, and spend the next year designing a possible solution - as they see it, trying to make the world better.
Why do I always decide that I am going to do something 'different'? I get some crazy-ass idea that I am going to spend a year-and-a-half taking photos and run with it. My thesis hasn't really even figured out if it's a research thesis or some sort of convoluted 'design' thesis.
Sometimes, I frustrate myself with my stubbornnes to cause trouble (mainly for myself) and go against the norm. (Clearly today is one of those days).
I am learning to continually remind mysel of Don's statment: It's like chocolate. The world doesn't need it, but would be poorer without it.
That'll have to do. My thesis is chocolate. It's too late to go questioning the entire purpose of my thesis now. Or my entire purpose at the school. I'll save that for therapy.
These are the kinds of theses that could change lives.
And then I think of mine and I try to figure out what the point of it is... besides to earn a degree and to explore photography as it pertains to the architectural world around me. What am I contributing? To the school.. to architecture as a profession... to Galt? It seems that most people at the school see a problem, research on how they're going to fix it, and spend the next year designing a possible solution - as they see it, trying to make the world better.
Why do I always decide that I am going to do something 'different'? I get some crazy-ass idea that I am going to spend a year-and-a-half taking photos and run with it. My thesis hasn't really even figured out if it's a research thesis or some sort of convoluted 'design' thesis.
Sometimes, I frustrate myself with my stubbornnes to cause trouble (mainly for myself) and go against the norm. (Clearly today is one of those days).
I am learning to continually remind mysel of Don's statment: It's like chocolate. The world doesn't need it, but would be poorer without it.
That'll have to do. My thesis is chocolate. It's too late to go questioning the entire purpose of my thesis now. Or my entire purpose at the school. I'll save that for therapy.
