The longevity of glass buildings

I like older buildings that are substantial and that are built to last, we still have many of these older buildings in Montreal. The new Science Hub on the Loyola Campus of Concordia University is a striking addition to the university, it is what students and faculty expect and want in a new building. There is no point in constructing an old fashioned brick and concrete building, it would be incongruous and inconsistent with a contemporary campus. It would also be prohibitive in terms of cost. So, my hesitancy regarding this new building is just my taste in architecture; however, I also question the future of the building in a post-pandemic world, I wonder if buildings like this will be needed. Furniture has been carried into the new science building, it's ready to be occupied, but I'm not sure if they'll have any students on-campus this year due to the pandemic. Everything is changing, not for the better but just changing. The Science Hub doesn't look like it was constructed to last; I suspect that in a hundred years, if this building is still standing, people will scratch their heads and say "what were they thinking?" But do we even want buildings to last? Or are buildings like Ikea furniture, they look good for a while, they're functional, but they're still just made of laminated particle board, future junk.  No one had the idea of built-in obsolescence when they were constructing our many older buildings in Montreal; these older buildings add much to the quality of life in this city, they give us a feeling of substance, workmanship, creativity, and our culture and history. This is not the case with the Science Hub building, it could be located in any large city, in Toronto or elsewhere. 

The Garden in early August

I never throw out any plants, I just begin a new area to garden, so I conserve what I have and increase it. I wanted a traditional cottage garden, a garden where my grandmother would feel at home if she could visit. I am not opposed to grass and lawns but it isn't at the top of my gardening priorities; last year I extended the perimeter of the garden and I plan to enlarge the garden as long as I have surplus plants or go out and buy more. I am now thinking of islands; for instance, where I have the bird bath which also has hostas and a hydrangea beside it. As for plants, free or a gift is always best for adding to the garden; I like an anecdote, the human element, to go with a new plant. A few years ago I found what might be hostas that I hadn't planted, a sumac appeared this year, and ground cover has migrated from a neighbour's yard. When I began this garden I decided to grow only perennial flowers, daisies, day lilies, irises, ornamental grass; I also have lilacs, raspberry canes, and roses left by the previous owner from twenty-five years ago. I have a few pots planted with annuals and I've had pots for many years; it's a good quick way to have a garden in places where otherwise there would be no garden. I like hanging baskets of flowers. I collect rain water and water and dead head flowers every day. Visiting gardens can be like looking at photos of someone's vacation, even I gave my mother's garden a more or less cursory visit, and she worked hard on that garden with plants that she had returned with from visiting relatives in Woodstock, ON; for instance, rhubarb from Ruth Laflare; now I wish I had some of her plants, they would mean a lot to me. This year has been exceptional, hot, rainy, and the garden has flourished. In the evening fire flies are everywhere, a few days ago the hummingbird moth appeared in the bee balm, honey bees in the cone flowers, big bumble bees and the occasional skunk passing through, and so on. And if you sit quietly there are birds in the bird bath, they have a great time splashing around, completely submerging themselves in water. When I open the gate I leave behind the noises of the street and I think to myself, this is like the Garden of Eden! 

The Garden in mid-July 2020

New Sculpture on Loyola Campus

The science hub, the new building on the Loyola Campus of Concordia University, includes a recently installed sculpture. I don't know the artist's name or what the sculpture is called (it hasn't been announced), but it is quite imposing and you get an idea of what it might mean when you approach it from a distance. It looks like a "rough beast", almost an invisible man not wrapped in gauze but in striations of aluminum. This is a formidable sculpture, as though an amorphous human body, one arm bent and protruding from the body making it look like it is slouching towards something; standing beside the sculpture it doesn't seem to be anything but a formless mass. I don't see any celebration of science in this sculpture assuming there should be considering it is located between two science buildings (literal me), it is more of a dystopian impression of the new soulless human being that has been manifesting for the last hundred years or so. The sculpture is hollow so you can step inside and looking up you see the blue sky, windows of the new building, and the endless and infinite universe over one's head. These shapes above one's head remind me of work done by Hans Arp, if I remember correctly. The sculpture is actually a very perceptive and accurate image of an aspect of our new world order, one that is both disturbing and disconcerting.

Now I remember what the sculpture reminds me of, it is the Golem from Jewish mythology; this seems appropriate considering the age in which we live. 

And now (09 October 2020) I know the artist's name, it is Marc-Antoine Cote. 

Walking to Meadowbrook Golf Course

I've deleted a rant and substituted the following more reasoned and watered down commentary: most of the trees on this stretch of Cote St. Luc Road have been cut down, this is the road that ends at Meadowbrook Golf Course. The town of Cote St. Luc is about as soulless a suburb as you can find so no wonder they've destroyed this last bit of country-like area; developers won't rest until they've built condos on every square inch of land. There were alternatives to cutting down trees in this area, the best would have been to just leave things as they were. I am not convinced by the signs warning people of falling trees, or if the branch of a tree did fall then does that warrant cutting down most of the trees in this area? Well, folks, we'll see if they plant a single tree for every tree they've cut down which is what they said was their plan.

Now compare the road as it was with my photographs of what it looks like now:

Here is Google Street View over a twelve year period, 2007 to 2019: https://www.google.com/maps/@45.4564534,-73.6684001,3a,75y,208.22h,94.22t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sY1druHKghkiV9eiUA42kKQ!2e0!5s20070901T000000!7i3328!8i1664

Here is the road today:

Crows in our backyard

The personality of crows

In other words, crows are sociable, independent, proud, and very intelligent.

Discarded Personal Shrines

The Indian philosopher J. Krishnamurti wrote that the only thing spiritual about shrines is the spirituality invested in them by believers; this would be disputed by the many true believers. As an experiment he suggested making a little shrine at home and placing flowers or candles in front of it everyday, also maybe say a few words or prayers, and soon this will become a habit and you will believe in the spirituality of the shrine and whatever it was made to represent. Walking by this same personal shrine, as pictured, I noticed that it has already been discarded by whoever made it; it has fallen into disrepair and someone has placed garbage on it. Whatever made it special has disappeared.

Not sure why anyone bothers with this "personal shrine", it's hidden in the middle of some bushes at the City Farm Garden at the Loyola Campus of Concordia University. I walked there yesterday and the shrine (as I've been calling it) has been further broken up... here it is: