06/09/2023	Moscone Center,San Francisco
Playing Architect
As I sit here writing on the floor of the Moscone Center, the humming sounds of the 2023 American Institute of Architecture are grabbing my ears. It’s hard to think here, even harder to stop licking the roof of my mouth after I burned it this morning. Why was I rushing out of the house to be here? For starters, I missed the first day of the Expo; for finishers, I was debating on even going. I am no Architect, no professional in the field, just a San Francisco resident who got in for free this year. Nothing beats free, although my Dad used to tell me, “There’s nothing free in this world, and you’ll pay some way.” The price I paid, playing Architect for the day. It’s a bit depressing, I could have done it. Even seeing an old high school friend at the end and asking her, “Is it true, can someone be an Architect and not even go to school?” Yes, it’s true. It’s also true we grow up wanting to be one thing, and life picks a different journey for us entirely. Nevertheless, I stumbled upon exhibits, installations, and sales floors in the hall. Answering the same questions over again, “No, I am not an Architect, but a writer interested in this world you call your own.” While here, I talked with playground designers, office furniture remanufactures, and even discussed how baby changing stations might look like in the future. I was free to roam and roam I did. I talked about stainless-steel bathtubs with a business broker from Nebraska, and I learned how fire retardant wood can be treated for a two-hour burn. After a while, I didn’t feel like an outsider, rather like I was in a world of my own. As a kid, I grew up going to random open houses and appreciating the non-cookie-cutter homes down the block. In high school, I used to drive through the Eichler neighborhoods in Santa Clara County imagining what a life might be like on the inside. I loved building things, and on the property we owned in the South Bay I fostered a love for the wide-open space. Nonetheless I am here, quite shy, and still figuring out the why. What’s this all meant out to be? Our daily habits and the dealing of these things. Is it not a requisite of life to adore great function and do more than merely survive? Seriously, the only thing saving me are my glasses, leather backpack, and black hat. Indicating, I must have some sense of design. But I don’t. Not one bit. It’s just my Instagram is blanketed with DIYs and spaces I’d love to be in. Heck, I even saw a magician, a puppy petting zoo, and a publishing company inspiring everyone alike. By the way, I have a whole new look on the term “coffee-table-book”, it’s a whole world, and it's only a coaster away. The door was open, and I walked right in. The last hours of the Expo are remaining, but it feels amazing finding solitude here. After today, Architecture doesn’t seem so far away. It makes up our existence as a whole, and to be present, wherever it is, is powerful. It’s a place devoted toward learning, building, and collaborating. A place to mindfully listen and, dare I say, feel the essence of a space. I am proud of I went today. I put aside my fears of a false identity and walked hand in hand with insecurities. Building codes. What is the difference between those? Bravery. I was brave today and again, I am proud of myself. The world of Architecture ought to be proud of itself as well; a welcoming, warm, and thoughtful world.