Its 3AM and I’ve never been so concentrated. Giant headphones to keep the noise of wooden models cracking out or of a student laughing nervously. I’ve built my own fortress in these four walls, a home away from home, a screen monitor slowly blinding me, and a mouse crippling my hand. One way or another you all know what I’m talking about: an all-nighter. Now I know we’ve all had this experience (some of us more than others) either writing eternal essays till dawn or soaking pieces of wood praying it bends just the right way. One all-nighter is more than enough, but we all know that’s just wishful thinking when going to college. We all have our own stories full of late night walks while its pouring rain because you just want to get home, rushing to the printer, computers shutting down, meltdowns, laughter, paper planes, and food. Yes, food.
Every time I knew there was an all-nighter coming. I would prepare for battle. Stock up on delicious and not nutritious food to get me through the night, morning, and the next whatever days I had coming my way. It would all start with a visit to the grocery store. It’s as if it was part of our project to analyze every item in the store. What would taste best at 4AM? What would help me click faster, think clearer, and comfort me best when everything would go down the drain, cause it would. I would always try to make it a point to buy some vegetables and hummus to trick my brain into thinking this was the food I was going to want at night. Wrong. I would buy it, take a bite, and then ignore it. How are carrots and hummus suppose to give me a big warm hug when I need it the most?! I have to confess I did go to school in Boulder so my snacks of choice would be seaweed, Qdoba burritos, and curly fries from the student center (and of course beer in a coffee cup).
I will never forget when my friend invented “chip chopsticks”. It was one of those nights where everyone was all cramped up in our studio working on models (I on the other hand was in the computer room I liked to call “the dungeon” since no matter the time, it was always pitch black). There were some chips on the table and she grabbed two pieces of leftover wood and used them as chopsticks to avoid getting her hands dirty (aka getting the model dirty). Genius! I still use that technic from time to time. I would always drink mate (I told you I went to school in Boulder), steal trail mix, make someone buy me food, had a constant love hate relationship with wasabi peas, shared my “weird” Mexican food/candy that everyone always hated, and would pretend I was a normal and functional human being the morning after (I wasn’t). Design is never done, there is always more work to be done, hence why studio culture is what it is, and how everyone at the end “enjoyed” that suffering. I will never forget it. And I will never forget those late nights and early mornings where everyone around you knew exactly how you felt.