Doha

On the way to Casablanca, we stopped over in Doha, Qatar. The main airport was under construction and the present disembarkation system involved 15-minute bus-rides and different drop off points; colour coded with your boarding passes - blue for final destination, yellow for transit and purple for long transfer.
The transit lounge was abuzz with people looking for toilets, departure gates and duty free goods. (or for me; free wifi) The only highlight during my 4 hour layover was a pack of dates where someone had replaced their seeds with almonds - combining two of my favourite things.

My mind is in the gutter

Thinking through the details of our latest project has kept me away from my sketch book - so I am showing here the drawings from my other sketch book which I have for projects. I try and work things out  and then pass them on to my colleagues to CAD into construction drawings - it is a good habit to keep so that you have your ideas with you in one place.
Having said that, nothing beats sketching out design  solutions on the back of old blueprints with a colleague - I do better work in a team.

 

Waiting without fretting

I enjoy waiting in public places.

It means that I am not in the office nor at home which means that I am not drawing, talking, cleaning, weeding or any other the number of things that I do to occupy my time. It probably means that I have a book, or a sketchbook with me and a drink in front of me. Sometimes I read and when I am tired of reading - I sketch the people around me.

These are my companions at the IKEA waiting lounge where I was left for an hour with our purchases while the others dashed off for grocery shopping (Who shops for groceries for an hour?)

This woman was eating at the KLCC food court - she was eating very slowly so I thought that she was waiting for someone to join her, but it turns out that she was pre-occupied in some deep thought. Her chopsticks would sometimes stop with noodles dangling in mid flight. 

The guy at the departure certainly could not wait without fretting, I had difficulty drawing him in a single pose until he finally fell asleep. Unfortunately for him, we were to board the plane by then.

Building Bridges

My friends think that I drive my children too hard and force them to do too many chores. I do not agree. Chores are those tasks that you instruct someone to do while you stand and look, it is not a chore if you do the work with them.
I see physical labour as a way of bonding with my family.

Sean testing the ramp as Felicia looks on

the landing is formed by stacking 5x5 " belian posts - the ramp is simply held on place by its weight

we try to use as many of the things we have around the house as possible, or bought cheaply from the hardware store

That is what Sean and I were doing last week - building a bridge between father and son, between the garden and the pavillion. He is a good work partner. Usually I start first, by going into the garden and preparing the materials and he quietly joins me a few minutes later and stays until we are done for the afternoon.

What's been on my mind...

I have neglected my blog. The following are some excuses...

I have a lot on my plate recently, and even more on my mind - from the mundane to the spiritual. Should I re-plant the tomatoes? Am I mentoring my children adequately? Is my irritability caused by hormonal imbalance? and on top of that, there is work to keep me occupied.

the modular form of the office is offset by the rakish angle of the roof and screen. (washed with coffee)

This has been on my mind in the past weeks - an office building designed to be de-mountable after several years and used elsewhere. The modular building will be constructed in steel with panel cladding and flooring for re-useability - a series of stacked boxes sheltered with an over-sailing roof. The roof pitch is a gentle 5 degrees making it an ideal pedestrian 'ramp' to the top end of the roof.

view of the 'street' - bridges overhead connect the offices with the amenities.

Construction starts soon, I am looking forward to detailing in steel again.

Things are going swimmingly..

One afternoon last week, I stole away from work to take my father swimming. His memory is starting to wane. It is important for him to stay active and interactive; to have highlights and digressions from his daily routine of walks and arguments with my mom. I asked Sean to come along and we walked to the pool nearby - a newly completed but poorly executed sports complex where my father swam lengths while ten year old children practiced diving from the high platform.

Sean does not know it yet but this is a subtle plan to show him filial piety at work - after all, I want to taken for swims and movies when I grow old and my memory too, starts to wane.

Visiting Sara

On Sunday, I traveled to Kuala Lumpur with Sam to visit Sara at her National Service Camp in Rembau. This involves a one hour drive from KL International Airport to Seremban and then some more to a small town of Rembau where her camp was located.

I felt happy and relieved; happy because I am going to see my favourite daughter and relieved because recent events at work have taken a load off my shoulders. I brought my ear-phones and my sketchbook - expecting to watch an in-flight movie and the latter to practice drawing people.

There wasn't an in-flight movie so much time for sketching my travel companions.

This guy was a easy target - seated across the aisle and dozing after his in-flight meal

A new father struggling with his ten-month daughter while a teenager struggles with phone puzzle

We arrived at 11:30 a.m. and found Selinna already waiting in her new Volvo, which made easy work of the hour long trip. At the camp, young cadets ushered us to our seats in the huge dining hall, one young cadet even carried the bag of books and goodies we brought for Sara. We watched Sara striding into the hall in her full uniform and perfect posture - which sagged a bit when she saw her mother. She still cries when we meet - the separation is hard for all of us.

teary eyed still when we meet

we met at the dining hall

on the way home, Sam sends a few final messages to Sara before she returns her phone to the camp warden

Another month to go before we have her all to ourselves again....