3D printed Android Renders
3D printed Android Renders
During the full moon of the 2nd month of the Lanna calendar, Thais celebrate the festival of Yi Peng. Thousands of floating lanterns are released over the Pacific Ocean as families celebrate the coming of a new year and buddhist monks gather to ensure that their good deeds are recognized as they move closer towards spiritual enlightenment.
Roughly 2 meters square and sewn from thin silk fabric, Khom Loi are created by the thousands in the days leading up to the festival. Fires are lighted at the base to provide lift, carrying them upward into prevailing winds. Over the course of a few hours, the sky becomes a spectacular display of lights traveling a one-way journey towards a vast and distant horizon.
The events of Friday, March 11, 2011, held us all captive with shock and grief. The Tōhoku earthquake and resulting tsunami were unlike anything we had ever witnessed. Cameras captured heartbreaking images of a wave of incomprehensible destruction. We learned quickly how unforgiving nature can be as it was revealed that close to 16,000 had people perished in a single day. The event is even more shocking when you consider the far more deadly Indian Ocean Tsunami that took more than 200,00 lives seven years prior. It is poetic to think of these lanterns as representing human souls lost in the wake of these tragedies. In reality, there are not nearly enough to account for the lives taken every year by natural and manmade disasters.
Yi Peng is a celebration of life and spirit, held in reverence to human kindness and the tradition of giving. The beauty of this event is only outdone by the goodwill and spirit for which it exists. It is a moment of belonging and a chance to wish for good fortune in the coming year.
Rumor has it that everyone in the town of Golden, Oregon died sometime in the mid-1800s. Miners had run to the neighboring Salmon River for more lucrative pursuits, leaving the settlement nearly abandoned. Chinese immigrants who had been hired to help squeeze wealth from ever-dwindling claims were no longer needed and also left behind. Without regional support, they fell on increasingly hard times. The story has it that malnourished and desperate from months of starvation, they resorted to feasting on poisonous lizards gathered from the nearby creek, an unfortunate and deadly decision.
It is impossible to verify some events in American settler history. Much of what we know comes to us as a patchwork of myth and folklore. Nobody knows exactly what happened to the Chinese population of this early mining town, but there is no question about the hardships they faced. In one of the most brutal injustices in the Northwest United States, and not far from the town of Golden, thirty-four Chinese gold miners were ambushed and killed by horse thieves and schoolboys from Wallowa County. Although the incident was investigated and suspects brought to trial, nobody was ever punished for the crime. Over time, this massacre, along with countless other injustices were swept into history and entirely forgotten.
Many believe Golden to be haunted, with sightings and ghost stories having been reported for decades. If you visit Golden, take the time to sit alone in the town church. Even if you don’t believe that malicious spirits occupy the places where people meet with untimely ends, it is hard not to feel the presence of the former residents. Baptisms, marriages, funerals, everything important that happens, happened here, taking place under the wooden cross that still stands above the pulpit.
We place the Wild West as ancient history in our minds, but this is all recent history. It was our own great-grandparents walking through saloon doors, riding horse-drawn carriages, and reading by candle-light. Golden had everything society demands, a schoolhouse, courthouse, post office, and general store. There was no alcohol here, however. This was a religious town that at one time was home to two churches and only 150 people. A dance hall was built outside the city limits, providing much-needed relief to hard-working miners. Stories tell of local women coming on party nights to chant away the evil spirits.
Walking through Golden helps humanize the past. Although styles and technology often change, the important things do not. This community lasted for only 80 years, appearing with the discovery of gold and vanishing in its absence. The last people to permanently reside here were at the turn of the century, but their legacy remains, with some tombstones in the small graveyard dating to modern times.
The American West is peppered with abandoned towns such as these. They stand as monuments to impermanence and our constant need to strive for a better life. Each has its own peculiar history, much of which has been rewritten or forgotten. Very few struck it rich. Many more suffered long winters, with nothing to show for their efforts.
The lure for easy money brought many to towns like Golden, but for most this was a difficult and unforgiving life.
High above the noise and frantic rnergy of Honolulu, a century-old banyan tree serves as the spiritual and structural backbone for a series of interconnected dwellings known as “The Treehouse.” Attached to the open lanai of a Japanese style home and looking down onto the beaches of Waikiki, this is a network of people focused on the future and living in harmony with their surroundings.
From the street, what looks to be a typical suburban home gives way to a structure that defies any sense and what we are accustomed. Visitors meet with familiar furnishings that transition seamlessly into a living jungle. There are no double-paned windows or plaster walls to offer protection. This is life in the raw, at the center of an unruly and electrified natural world. High above a tropical river, hand-crafted structures are strung together with vines and intuition, thin mosquito nets offering little comfort against strong winds and a teeming ecosystem. Here you are vulnerable, one amongst thousands of creatures out to survive the night.
This adventure requires the trust of a guide and whatever battery is left on your cell phone. There are several levels, some more sturdy than others, some only accessible to those who are athletic enough to reach them. It is up to the visitor how far this goes, every step over sixty feet in the air. When the night finally relents, a chorus of birds takes center stage, leaving those who stay relieved and thankful to be a part of the natural world.
The treehouse stands in opposition to a selfish and myopic society with those who come here dedicated to improving the environment and our communities. The dwellings, fishnets, rope bridges, everything that you encounter has been reclaimed from the ocean. At times, it is hard to distinguish where the recycling ends and the tree begins. There are no right angles here, only twisting stairways and relics of faded decades. Staying as nature’s guest leaves a lasting impression of conservation, making do with what we have and hope for the future.