Lifestyle // The Romanesque Romantic...or Don Juan de Stijl?

Architecture and romance maintain a curious and often tenuous rapport. One would expect, for example, that architects are tremendous lovers. After all, they work extensively with their strong but delicate hands. They have impeccable taste which has been cultivated through a broad and cultured education. They have an artistic sensibility and an appreciation for the sensuous qualities of form (body) and material (skin). And, of course, with an intimate knowledge of construction, they are handy to have around the house at all times of the day - or night. All these facts must have been considered when some Dutch academic journal recently listed "architect" as the world's sexiest profession. So not only are we (architects) great lovers, we're also the sexiest people. As if I didn't have enough already going for me, eh? Hardy har har...Tom-Cruise-lookalike my ass.

[House of the Century by Ant Farm. Is that a building or are you just excited to see me?]

Unfortunately for me, these qualities have not reversed to even a single degree my recent  fabulous failings in the world of love and romantic conquest. They should at least allow me to overcome my ice-cold first impressions, mumbling, constant looks of bitterness, anger, and/or consternation, and lack of emotional openness, right? Well, first I'd have to ask myself if it is even possible to live up to the standards set down by the egghead sociologists in Amsterdam or wherever and what possible misconceptions contribute to these illusory statements.

Problem [1]: People think architects are rich and make way more money ($$$$$) than they actually do ($). Woops. Doctors and lawyers aren't looking so bad now, are they? Young architects are especially light in the wallet. An expensive education isn't helping the matter.

Problem [2]: Architects' massive, earth-shattering egos do not reflect the reality of their mundane, wretched, often pointless existences. Correct. No argument there, although with my awesome powers of reasoning I could probably win.

Problem [3]: Architects work too damn much. Also correct. Which leads to the next point....

Problem [4]: Architects never meet anyone outside of their field because they work too damn much, and as a result the profession is diabolically incestuous. I've seen this process in action and also participated in it. It's unavoidable over the long term, but doesn't have to be permanent. An unfortunate side-effect that perpetuates this pattern of sexual interaction is...

Problem [5]: For all their education in the ways of the world, all architects ever talk about is architecture with other architects. This is the aspect of archi-love that I despise the most, especially when couples continue and marry and start their own practice together. Barf. I am sometimes so desperate for a refreshingly original conversation that I'll just tell everyone to shut up if talk of projects is initiated. I'd rather listen to silence. That really wins over the ladies, let me tell you. Speaking of ladies...

Problem [6]: Because many architects are very well-rounded, they come across as gay. True, but depends on where you live. For me, this is not such a problem because you can always find someone fruitier than you in LA. But living in the South this was a big issue that came up on more than one occasion. Didn't help that all my friends were gay, but they should have been busy hooking me up with their bottomless, never-ending posse of gorgeous female friends. But nope. What a disappointment. Oh, but who doesn't enjoy some fun with stereotypes? Which brings me to my last point:

Problem [7]: Architects may be sexy, and though the nature of their profession may suggest otherwise they are in fact notoriously poor lovers. Frank Lloyd Wright himself was an unscrupulous womanizer, who despite his 6 children with divorced wife Kitty, managed to find himself in numerous bouts of public and private personal turmoil with regards to his alleged affairs with ballerinas and so on. While some might argue that this constitutes as least sexual success, I have little to no interest in such rampant sexual escapades at this point in my life. Furthermore, Stanford White, of McKim, Meade and White, was murdered by the husband of a woman with whom he was having an affair. Brilliant! I can appreciate going down in a blaze of glory...

[This famous architect was brutally murdered for his deviant ways. Defies the odds that he was a devout Classicist, ba-da-boom. Our hero!]

There's something to be said, though for a more passionate approach. Ant Farm, whose phallic project is displayed above, were outspoken proponents of free-spirited love and play, no doubt a value instilled in them as they came of age in the hippie peace-love-pot-etc. movement. The more fluid forms of Baroque and Rococo, and even of recent parametric and bio-mimicry projects, suggest a sensual, sexual, organic, tactile response to the conditions of architecture. But for whom are these moves calculated? Certainly not for the architects themselves...and there's little satisfaction in designing sex for the enjoyment of others, right?  Is it some sort of perverse onanism subtly expressed in the design? Shudder...

Problem [8]: Architects are perverted.

In all seriousness, though, the more I define my own wishes through my experiences in the architectural profession, the more I find myself less and less able to navigate the search for a companion. I'm tempted to use some sort of architect-speak involving "parameters" and "variables" and "agents of sexuality" and "tectonic juxtaposition" (that last one doesn't even make any sense!), but since I just listed that sort of thing as a detrimental tool in the architect's lovebox, I'll put it in plainer terms: I know what I want, but I'm not sure it exists. And I've limited myself to such a degree that I'm completely closed off from everyone, which is not so compatible with my personality. 

I have persuaded myself that I need the following:

• A woman. Sorry to my homies waiting for a conversion a la Seinfeld, not happening. I like my team. Percentage of population eliminated: 50%
• A non-architect with a near opposite point of view who can provide stimulating conversation. Percentage of population eliminated: negligible. Percentage of people I know / hang out with: also negligible.
• A beautiful person, inside and out. An appreciation for beauty that develops through the study of imagery tends, I think, to allow a person (especially a superficial man, like myself) to see beauty in far more places than one might consider typical. I think. Shame on me if not.
• An aggressive lady that doesn't care if I'm quiet and is immune to my famously curmudgeonous first impression.

I'm incredibly hard on myself and this long dry spell of intimacy is really causing some emotional difficulty. So am I limiting myself too much? Are silly articles like this a complete waste of time or a refreshing dose of lighthearted brevity? Did you read this and scream, "Who gives a shit, whineface?" Do they detract from the credibility of the blog, or do they provide a window into my personality? Decide and comment, if you please...