I rant - therefore I am.

 

You found my 'Rant' page. If you take the time to read this, just remember- I wasted a whole lot more time writing this than you will reading it. So indulge; bear with me  a moment in my folly.

 

To me, there is no art higher than art in architecture. Therefore I am irked, when people use such inferior building methods and products.

 

Now I know that there is a time and place for cutting corners. But people (especially in our dear San Joaquin Valley are reallllllllly stuck in a rut. Here are a few experiences I have had:

 

In getting started in my business, I was prepared to do some work just for the exposure. I went to one Italian Restaurant, yeahh, in Visalia, and left my card at least THREE time. This guy's entry way looked like %#(%&! -- and I was going to do him an awesome job, JUST for the exposure. I was in such a giving mood!!! He just had to do one thing- JUST ONE THING- and that is return my phone call, which he didn't have the decency to do. With that little regard, I will cook my own Italian food, thankyou, and pass this guy up totally. I can picture him sucking his cigarettes as he stands underneath that nasty little entry way looking like a bullfrog waiting for the unsuspecting fly -- and think how beautiful I would have made it.

Another place: a well known architect in town, remodeling a building for his own office. AGAIN- I would have poured my heart out on his building- but he opted to spray it with yucko- I mean, stucco. I watched the guys spray it on. THEY DIDN'T EVEN REPAIR THE CRACKS - they just SPRAYED right over them !!! Well, it will last long enough for the stucco guys to get paid, and this prominent architect will move into his new slapped together office and start churning out cookie cutter house plans for all the people who are having little cookie cutter boxes built. Italian plaster obviously isn't for someone like him.

Then there's the pizza place with the most horrible façade on their building. I cannot describe how ugly it is. Some other sign evidently hung up there before, and totally scarred the building up. Then someone started painting it, and must have run out of paint before they finished, and were too lazy to go down to Standard Brands to get some more. So there is stands in the city of Visalia- THREE TIMES I have been in to plead with them that I could make it a work of art, and turn their Walls of Shame into Walls of Fame. But they have to care, and they obviously don't. They will continue to churn out their miserable pizzas, and never think twice about their ugly building. Three strikes and they are out. I will never set foot there again.

I takes time out and drive to Fresno, a house on the Bluffs. I meet an interior designer, and give the schpeeel. I RAVE about what I could do inside, on a groin vaulted ceiling. Off to the side, I see three sheetrock boards, with three different samples of pigeon poop... I mean, texture. Here's the scenario: the drywall contractor has given this homeowner their choices: do you want pigeon poop #1, or pigeon poop #2, or pigeon poop #3. This is so sad. It just shows how people get stuck in a rut, and that the contractor doesn't  deviate from the standard faire. People will build their dream house, and sit there and smile at the pigeon poop covered with latex paint. Ignorance is bliss.

And finally, there's the guy that knows it all. Seriously. He's an authority on anything you can mention.  Whatever you do, he does it better. And he doesn't beat around the bush telling you how much money he makes, and about his possessions. So he's building a house, it's a mansion, and it isn't going to cost him a thin dime because he does everything so inexpensive that all he has to do is leverage  favors out of his multitude of subjects. So I go to see his house he is building Now this is the same guy that built Ray Krok's house, (whales, whales - all I get are minnows!) or so he said. And he has built other mansions, and subdivisions. Hooray! I am going there to somehow hitchhike on his knowledge, I need some expertise to build my house. I begin to waiver, shall I become one of his 'subjects' in order to gain his knowledge and contacts? We shall pay him a visit and see. I drive up, and he is not there. A plumber is, so I walk in, and, yes, it really is impressive, mmmm, spacious. Cavernous, to be more exact. Cold. Don't get me wrong, it was nice, although if the other houses were 'cookie cutter' houses, this was the biggest cookie on the block. 12 or 15 foot high ceilings in the hallway. Aruuugh!! I got there too late!! It had already been sprayed with that ever present LATEX over pigeon poop! I knew for sure that he would flip over this Italian plaster, so I kick myself for not getting there sooner. Not that I wanted to 'sell him', I wanted him to have something that was going to bring some authenticity- some class- some distinction to his home. So for now, I leave. I return a few weeks later- this time HE"S there- I congratulate him on a suburb job, which of course he knew anyway, yet he proceeded to show me around. He has added some faux murals !! Glitz! No flat paint here, it was 100% authentic Glossy paint! Wow, sort of like SistineChapelsRUS. I am, well, uh, I told him about my love for frescos. He thought I was talking about the drink, Fresca... it was hard for me to believe with his worldly knowledge, he didn't know about frescos. Or authentic Italian plaster either, for that matter. After showing him some samples, he told me if it cost a fraction of what the going rate in Los Angeles was (which I told him) he wouldn't be interested. Slam dunk. He dismissed it from his mind so fast it made my head spin. I felt like the 98 lb weakling that got sand kicked in his face. I then proceeded to pick his brain about building sources for building materials, and other things I may glean from him, hey, I'm not proud - but it didn't take much to realize that to gain such knowledge I would have to bow and show him  fealty- total blind faith. Again, I know this is no place for me. I leave, never to return to see the completed project. So he can sit there and enjoy his glossy fakearoo magoos. Some things, if you cannot have the genuine article, why mess with it at all? Mirror mirror on the wall, whose the glitziest of them all???

 I have finally come to terms that Authentic Italian Plaster isn't for everyone. Yes, there are far more people in this world who couldn't care less- But there are those who do- Truly, it is  a pleasure to meet people who share with me the beauty of the art in architecture. It is for them that I will share my passion for art .

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