Sydney Opera House

I have never been one to be impressed with something simply because others are.

The Sydney Opera House falls into this description. I must admit, I was disappointed.



There were certainly inspiring aspects, most notably the superior and advanced engineering involved in a structure of such an unconventional shape.




As a visual array of lines, I think it must be mesmerizing in two dimensions.

But in three, well it just looks messy.





The glorious white shell is tiles, which destroy the shape’s smooth lines with an inconsistent lattice work.



It certainly has optimal viewing distances. Looking at it up close, and seeing all the tiles has a certain visual appeal. Seeing it from afar, where the tiles are smoothed out to a perfect shell, is also appealing. But the distance where you see the structure and the tiles, well, made me want to caulk around the tiles to smooth it out.

And I am sorry, but I just can’t help but think it looks like a broken dinosaur egg.

I don’t think it is as awe inspiring today as it was when it was built. If instead, you look at it as a period piece of the 60’s, it is ground-breaking.

I want to revitalize it by using colors to accentuate its more dramatic contours.

Don’t get me wrong, I feel privileged to have seen it, right out side my bedroom window no less. But it is certainly not on my list of things to return to.



Stupid: When real life falls so short of expectation.


Cool: Adventurous architecture of the 60’s, even if I personally don’t think it stood the test of time.



Cool: Anything that melds engineering and art for the common goal of aesthetic pleasure.

New Zealand Fjords

Fjords are something that growing up in California, I had never heard of. I don’t think I even heard of them until I was in my late twenties and five days away from the Norwegian Fjords.

Fjords are extraordinary. If you are an outdoor enthusiast or a nature lover, fjords should be your Mecca; you should make a trip at least once in your life.

Technically they are salt water inlets carved by glaciers between mountains. (How blah.)

In reality they a stunning green or icy gray granite vertical contrasts hugging placid richly colored water. (Not so blah.)

I love the Norwegian Fjords. The air is amazingly clear and everything has a surreal crisp quality. The mountains are dauntingly high, many capped with snow and many with hard granite faces. The Norwegian Fjords, in my experience (which also includes the Chilean Fjords) are the most spectacular, but they are COLD even on the hottest summer day.

New Zealand’s Fjords have rounder lower mountains and are extraordinarily lush. Not nearly as extreme as Norway’s, New Zealand’s Fjords have one thing I think is a deal breaker. It gets warm in the summer. This changes it from a sight to be seen into a place to be experienced. It is alive with birds and pods of dolphins and kayakers were constantly passing the ship. (Kayaking the New Zealand Fjords has now found a spot on my list of things I want to go back and do.) It made me want to go out and climb a fjord.


Pictures:

Norwegian Fjords:


New Zealand’s Milford Sound



Kayakers in New Zealand’s Fjords (see little orange dot in water, that is a two person kayak)



Boat in New Zealand’s Fjord (That white dot toward the bottom is a boat that seats something like 250 people. That gives you an idea of the size of the fjords.)



Stupid: That California doesn’t have any Fjords.
Cool: Fjords… just generally.

What I learned/remembered in New Zealand?

One of New Zealand’s primary attractions is the Sky Tower.



At over 1000 feet high, the tower’s elevators, with glass floors, whiz you upward to the observation deck at alarming speeds all the while you look down as long as you dare.

It was at this point, rapidly being thrust upward, a sudden recollection jolted me.

I don’t like heights.

This was not a good time for this sudden recollection. Perhaps sometime before paying the $25 dollars to go up to the observation deck would have been a more fitting moment for this recollection. Or at least before getting into the elevator.

But no, I remembered as the bottom of the elevator shaft, clearly visible through the glass floor, dropped away beneath me, plummeted really.

Man if the sweat did not start pouring off me.

See, I had forgotten I don’t like heights. I know. It sounds crazy. But for a couple months I have been working in Century City, Los Angeles on the 15th floor. Elevators and heights had become somewhat routine.

Note to self, 15th floor not nearly as high as the observation deck of the Sky Tower.

And perhaps more importantly, in Century City, the elevators DO NOT have glass floors!

At the observation deck, (where I currently sit with an old fashion pad of paper to be transcribed later) you are surrounded by a panoramic view of Aukland. Or, if you are me, you get a place to sit and write, while casually avoiding the view.



And if you did not get enough of the glass floor in the elevator, there are plenty of glass floor panels available on the overhanging portion of the observation deck.

Maybe I will workup the guts to look down one of those.



At the moment, standing on glass which they ashore you is strong as concrete at 38 mm thick…. Is just not going to happen. (Let alone tap dancing hard on it like that freak over there is doing.)



To me, avoiding the view, the Sky Tower opens the question of why we build things just to be the tallest? (Anything not to think about how far down it is.) I chalk it up, simply, to men’s fundamental desire to say theirs is bigger.

The other question which strikes me is, why on earth do people scare themselves to death by coming up here and standing on the glass?

And I am not even going to consider the level of psychosis involved in bungee jumping off the building!

Stupid: Irrational fears.
Cool: The view from the Sky Tower.

Needless to say, I did not bungee jump off the tower.

Where Is Here?

I was in a deep sleep, dreaming, when I was pulled into a vague sleep.

In this very vague, foggy, nebulous, sleep entered the faintest thought, “Where am I?”

And slowly the thoughts starting drifting by.

Am I at my father’s house?

Mmmm, no.

Am I at my mother’s house.

No, not right either.

Am I at work?

Maybe, I work in a tall building… it could be windy.

No… mmm I am comfy, not curled over a desk.

Maybe I am in a car.

I am definitely moving.

But I am rocking back and forth kinda.

Damn alarm clock.

Could I be in a hammock?

No, I am rocking like on a boa….

SHIP! I am on my ship again!

I open my eyes and turn off the alarm clock.

But there is a smile on my face cause I happy to be here.

Stupid: Alarm clocks.
Cool: Sleep revealing how happy I am to be “home.”

(For those of you who don’t know, I quit ship life four months ago and started working in a building tall enough to sway in the wind. I did not expect to be back on a ship, and was nervous I had made the wrong decision by saying I would come back. Sleep revealed, it was the right choice.)

Here, by the way, is off the coast of New Zealand.

Mailbox (the old fashion kind)

You can tell what a person is up to by looking at their mail (you know that paper stuff deposited in a repository traditionally by your house). That is just a given.

In the last week my mail has been from Hilton, Marriot, American Airlines, United Airlines, Delta Airlines and Continental Airlines.

You have to understand… I am not omitting any mail. Literally all my mail was from airlines and hotels.

You think I travel much?

Stupid: The number of trees dying so travel related companies can offer me credit cards.
Cool: That I travel enough that this as a concern.