jeffrey + upstairsloft

Since the start of January (coincidentally around New Year’s) I pretty much gave up coffee. Coffee, for lack of a better term, fucked me up for the last 2 years—having been heavily dependent on coffee to keep me going from the 2nd semester of my lower division courses into my 1st semester of my senior year. I had about a total of 4 cups of coffee since.

Specifically, coffee upset my stomach and for the first few weeks of dealing without coffee, I had nasty headaches. To alleviate this, I started drinking all sorts of teas and it helped. I love tea. It allows me to contemplate and just relax while consuming my needed dose of caffeine. I probably wouldn’t mind chewing on some tea leaves if I didn’t fear further yellowing my teeth. Anyhow, I’m debating whether or not to pick up my coffee habit.

I feel much better now and my body doesn’t give in to nasty reactions and it does give me a quicker jolt than consuming several cups of tea. Well, I guess each of them have their different purposes. I’m more of a tea person now but I will brew a cup of mud if I have to.

Home isn’t home and where I’ve been living for the past three years was never home. I’ve never called the Sac place “home.” Home always referred to Milpitas where family and friends reside. After living at home for the last few weeks, I’ve realized many things. Home is not the same. I am stuck somewhere between two cliffs, hanging mid-air.

One friend is in working in LA for the summer. The other friend, well, his commitment to all things planned lacks entirely. It’s hard to move forward on things living at home. I have less control of my workflow; when my wheels are turning, it’s often interrupted by the slightest of things, but interrupted nonetheless. In Sacramento, I had the luxury of space, time and control of my environment to not let anything distract me. My attention span is as faithful as a sexually active Catholic priest. I cannot wait for the next step. I’m dying to live in SF or NY. I’m ready.

In other news, I didn’t land a gig at Chen Design but I was informed that they will consider me for the Fall position since they hired only one of five people they interviewed after expecting to hire two. So yes, change of plans on their behalf and plus I have travel plans for the better part of August. So, the adventure continues when I get back. But honestly, it was an awesome experience to be interviewed by Max Spector, who in many respects is a great designer. Rob and I were granted interviews and made up almost half the list of people who were interviewed. That’s pretty dope.

Technically, there is a huge gap between me and those younger than me in my family. Mentally, we are about the same age. Any cousin, even up to 14 years younger than me, does not refer to me as “Kuya Jeff.” As for me, cousins who are even a year older than me are referred to as “Ate” or “Kuya.” My nieces and nephews intermittently refer to me as “Uncle Jeff.” This goes to show how the kids younger than me know I am at their level. The only people who call me Kuya or Uncle Jeff is one nephew, who is the realest kid I know, my brother, and all of Kate’s and Jun’s younger cousins. But sometimes kids cross lines and treat me too much like I am their age–but that’s the snobby lot. My group in the family ranges from 10 years old to 21 years old. I’m 24.

If regular television program weren’t bad enough, imagine third world television programs. Hokey effects, no subtance. It’s basically a rip off of already shitty american tv. Sometimes it’s a bit amusing, but for the most part, it’s annoying as hell. An example of this is any television program on TFC, The Filipino Channel. I want to blow my brains out. Why can’t all tv programs be as good as Avatar?

In 3 hours, I will embark on a forgotten journey. In the past three years, I have not lived at home for over 6 days. I will be living at home for the next 3 weeks. I have family visiting us from the Philippines—I’m stoked about that. It will be interesting and way awkward to live at home for so long. I have a tighter design workflow in Sac, a place I can claim as my own. I can play the guitar at 4 in the morning and get pretty loud.

Tomorrow at 3, I have an interview with Chen Design Associates, based out of San Francisco. I have been seriously jocking them since 2003 and tomorrow I have an interview for an internship position. That’s pretty crazy. 6 days after Portfolio Day Rapefest, I have an interview. That’ll be reassuring. I sure learned a whole lot of shit since then. Plus, I’m designing a gallery show for press 120 miles away with a deadline a month away. That presents a new set of challenges. This month will be very interesting.

Today I reconnected with what I think is the most beautiful shit I’ve heard in a while. In high school, Jun and I established a strong relationship with our english teacher, Mr. Maples. We ended up spending the rest of our three years hanging out with him at lunch and meeting up with him to shop for Jun’s guitar outside of school. I give credit to this experience for finding the introvert in me, but it was the last time I did some serious soul searching. About 8 years later, I’ve reconnected with music he introduced me to. Now I am on a musical binge to listen to as much Hayden as I can. I’m going to re-rip my Pixies CDs. I’m gonna buy Hayden’s CDs on amazon and I’m gonna re-think what the hell happened in the past two years because I have no idea what the fuck is going on. I kinda lost myself.

Hayden – My Parents House
Dynamite Walls

I swallowed bricks today to digest the feedback I got from the AIGA San Francisco Portfolio Review. Having been insecure throughout design school, my insecurities were somewhat remedied when I was awarded Best Portfolio at the Spring Show. I was offered awesome feedback and received a fair amount of compliments but nothing punches a person square in the the face like the head of a studio I highly respect makes no other comment but suggestions to edit my work. He just kept pulling threads until my sweater unraveled.

It was all valid feedback but he tore it up. He was the only person to take all my insecurities, all the things I am aware of myself as a designer and poured acid on my wounds. He did, on the other hand, have great things to say to Rob—who I share a similar body of work. I left the portfolio review bruised, wiser, but heavily bruised from a pretty severe beat down.

I received great advice to take critiques with a grain of salt but that’s like me telling somebody not to think of the color purple. (purple. purple. purple. purple). The thought keeps lingering. This is my second year attending the Portfolio Day and I experienced a fair share of beat downs and pick-me-ups but this was brutal. Those familiar with my work were shocked to hear me categorized with the assumed 99& of people whose portfolio he reviews do not display a great sense of type. I was a part of that 99%. I’m no type aficionado just yet, but I aspire to be. I know. I know. I’m making the guy sound like a douche but he really isn’t. He just knew what to say to get me stirred up in this slur of thoughts.

Kate, however, walked out of Portfolio Day with a bright smile. She walked out a champ. They loved her. I’m proud as hell and she got what she deserved. I was over intellectual, uninteresting and apparently not quite fit. One Week out of college is purgatory.

Another question lingers. Do I pursue my knack for intellectualizing design and breaking down the process of problem solving and bore the living daylights out of the studios I aspire to work with? Or do I unleash my raw passion and intuition of designing on instinct? Apparently my work comes off as sterile and sometimes playful. My descriptions and delineation of a process seem to bore the hell out of some people who have beautiful designs that solve problems. I on the other hand, am an odd and unsettled mixture of this this awkwardly dressed dude with a solid portfolio who over-intellectualizes his work. Where the hell is my place?