Showing posts with label Carlos K. Quinones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carlos K. Quinones. Show all posts

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Carlos K. Quinones: Lost in Timeline

Thesis: The architecture that we use in our daily lives should change based on what we need from it.

Starting with the family unit, a young couple moves into a one bedroom house. If they have a baby, they need a room to function as a nursery, and the individual rooms to be just a bit bigger to accommodate the larger family. As the child grows, its individual room grows for it, as might the family spaces, and other spaces may follow (a bathroom, a study, etc). If the family grows further (the grandmother moves in, or the parents have more children), the house grows further, and as members leave, the house shrinks and changes to accommodate the smaller family. Additionally, should the family wish the house change in size or composition, then that too is doable. If the family would want the house to change as a result of their environment (such as those sunrises that the parents used to enjoy waking up to now annoy them as they want to get in more sleep on the weekends), then that is also possible.

Originally, I postulated about what I would want in a person residence for myself, and I thought that I may not want a lot of static furniture; a few pieces of furniture for things that would have permanence in my house would be there, such as bathroom and kitchen fixtures. However, main pieces of furniture in public spaces of the house, such as couches and tables, would rise out of the ground into the space, ready to use.

The first type of method I wanted to use to develop this dynamic furniture system was pneumatic pistons disguised as hexagonal tiles on the floor. As a need arose for furniture, preprogrammed arrays of pistons would come up slowly in the shape of digital furnishings. However, my inner germaphobe surfaced as I realized that I would be eating meals on tables that were once floor, and lounging in couches made of floor.

What made ferrofluids as the medium more feasible for this was the fact that as a liquid base, the surface would be able to absorb any dirt that it comes into contact with during transformations (the ferrofluid would remain hard and rigid whenever it is not in a transformative state), and metabolize it via a required filtration system. And working with a liquid medium also allowed for more ergonomic designs of furnishings to emerge from the base material well, rather than the Lego-like blockiness of the aforementioned floor-piston system.

My initial research in ferrofluids began as a research tangent while working on another project that I decided not to do for that week. As it was an extracurricular project, this was probably not entirely acceptable, but it wasn’t looked down upon because I was immediately able to relate it to the project that I was working on. We were working on furniture, starting with anthropomorphic connectivity studies, ultimately working towards the imposed structures of the furniture units being microcosms of structural systems for architectural constructs. I felt that ferrofluid described an ability to generate a structure from the natural phenomena of a magnetic field.

Soon after that, I was pontificating on moving on to magnetic liquid furniture within flexible membranes, as well as even entire structures held up by magnets and their fields. I theorized that it would be possible to hold entire buildings or portions of buildings up with magnetic fields, citing magnetic levitation trains as the existing precedent indicating that it was entirely possible to hold up tons of weight with magnetic fields.

March 12th, 2010.

After speaking with another professor (Professor Hernandez, on the 5th; I am recording this late), I was given another perspective on this project. Namely, I need to ask myself the question of how is this better than something else which may be far simpler? She conjectured that an inflatable structure (a la balloon structures) may be far more efficient and easier to build. My response to this criticism was that the space can change in shape and size as you needed it to; a balloon structure could not grow larger than a certain size, and it will require a minimum of inflation to even stay erect. My proposal involves developing a method in which a fluid medium can be inflated with air, formed and shaped by magnetic structures, and then hardened in some manner (which has yet to be determined).

During my talk with Professor Hernandez, she drew me to the obvious conclusion of how I may be able to accomplish the hardening. She made me recall a property of ferrofluids that I had previously thought solely a liability- the iron particulate, which would normally separate with the presence of a magnetic field or from Van der Waals forces, does not due to the inclusion of the surfactant in the solvent. If I can find a way to metabolize the surfactant, or remove it in some other manner, then the iron particulate would separate in the mixture. Then I might be able to affect the iron separately, perhaps creating a large iron or steel shell, much like was suggested to me by Professor Azaroff.

Project Map

1) Site research

a. Geography: where will this structure be placed? Land, sea, or air?

-At one point I thought it would be nice to place the structure underwater, actually. I haven’t started shopping around for land based locales, though.

2) Precedent identification and research

a. John Johansen liquid architecture series – he proposes that buildings grow like plants out of specially engineered seed units that know what they are going to form themselves into from specified materials commonly found in the ground, air, and water.

3) Directed studies and research

a. Frie Otto IL Series book 17: bubble structures

b. Ferrofluid synthesizing and experimentation. Working with the chemistry department with the permission and sagely guidance of Dr. Spellane, I most probably will be able to find a lab space and partner in order to synthesize the ferrofluid in a laboratory condition. Initially, the first type of ferrofluid I made last semester was from old VHS tapes; I stripped the tapes of their ferromagnetic coating, collected it, and combined it in a liquid solvent (corn oil or olive oil) and a mild surfactant (ascorbic acid, commonly known as vitamin c, in the form of sour salt).

i. Further research into how ferrofluids act based upon composition, as well as the presence of one or several magnetic fields, various types of directed magnetic fields, as well as within Hele-Shaw Cell, and postulation as to why the material acts the way it does.

4) Material research

a. Ferrofluids: the material research that started it all. A ferrofluid is a liquid (usually a natural one) acting as a solvent for fine iron particulate to be suspended in. A third compound (a surfactant) is usually added to prevent the separation of the iron particulate from the liquid solvent due to Van Der Waals or magnetic forces.

b. Hydrophobic materials like the lotus leaf: water beads on the surface of this leaf, and rolls right off. The water is forced into a minimum surface bead based on water surface tension, total mass, and gravity.

5) Application of program

6) Design

a. Utilize minimum surface modeling, surface tension, constant magnetic fields (not the kind that change rapidly, which are detrimental to living organisms if the organism is exposed to the field for a long period of time.

b. Delving into studies by Frei Otto and bubble structures, I would study how surface tension could create structure with wire constructs. From there, I would use the wire itself as a medium for a magnetic field, to create encapsulated spaces with the ferrofluids and magnetic fields.

7) Presentation

a. Video presentation of inspirational videos viewed during research phase.

Carlos K. Quinones: Ferrofluids in the Basement

Since not everyone got to see this last semester, and those that did were subjected to my disorganized, mad ramblings about this black goop I managed to get all over my hands, I am going to post it here, (hopefully) with a better narrative attached, so that everyone who cares can understand where I started from, and that I started off the project about a third of a semester ahead of some people. Sorry about that.


Anyways, I presented this slideshow to the
emergent scholar's (re)House members in the fall of 2009, after I decided not to do the directed research for that week (although, prior to that I was under the impression that I didn't even have time to do the project due to an upcoming space planning presentation, which was actually the next week due to some crazy Jewish Holiday).

Yes, I did make all these slides by myself.

The ultimate purpose of the (re)House project was to explore structure in a more roundabout way, by observing the structure of the human body and morphology, and to ultimately use that research to move forward into constructing multipurpose furniture constructs. However, I also saw the furniture's structural design to be a microcosm for the structure inherent of the built environment itself; as many architects would create design the furniture that would occupy the space, so could we (maybe).

At this point, I wanted to remind the group of classic types of structures, both rigid and flexible. They generally require that one force needs to act on another static object in order to hold it taught, rigid, or erect. However, these were the old ways, and something that I felt we should ultimately build upon, but not directly copy.








As I mentioned earlier, I felt that we should be considering new ways of not only encapsulating space, but also holding up buildings. The pictured balloon animal stands because it the forces pushing out of the balloon (air pressure) cause it to take a shape, and stand erect.

Likewise, the tensegrity structure (edited, 4/6/10 - CKQ) manages to maintain a shape via tension in the strings and on the poles, to hold itself fast and rigid. These were the types of structures I believed we were headed towards, if only because of the analogous connection that they had with components of the human body.

And here's where the ferrofluid came in. I originally saw it in a how-to video posted on Gizmodo.com, explaining (in layman's terms) the science and principles behind it. I immediately saw insurmountable potential in this substance: a fluid that becomes rigid in the presence of a magnetic field? My brain got a speeding ticket for going so fast after seeing this in action.

And the very thought of being able to make some at home? From materials recycled from dying technology that would line garbage dumps anyways? I already was postulating on how many problems I could solve with this one material, even though by doing so I created many more. Namely, where could I find the VHS tapes used to make this stuff?

Now, I had to tie this into what we were doing for the Emergent Environment (re)House Project. This page was merely to appease my supervisors, although it does provide a valid point: that the ferrofluid, which in the absence of a magnetic field (stimulus), collapses to a viscous state (relaxes). In the presence of a stimulus it flexes, much like how a muscle will flex when the nervous system sends an electrical signal to a rotary nerve.





From there, I started to postulate on uses for magnetic fields in structure. Originally, I thought it impossible for any built environment to be composed primarily of liquid. However, that is now the point of my final thesis project. Last semester, though, I was concerned with making it work, and I hamstringed my thought process by tying it to old methods of creating structure. These were my earlier attempts to combine magnets with structure.

The neodymium magnet assemblies (top right) posed a possibility for quick-assembling structures from pr-fabricated structural members that would lock onto each other and remain connected solely due to strong magnetic forces.

The image on the bottom left is a canopy-like structure, tied to the ground, with magnets embedded into the fabric. It would be tied down to another large, permanent magnet of the same charge, and the magnets would repel. As the magnets embedded in the canopy would be far lighter, and spread apart, and also woven into a fabric, they would lift up and hold the canopy over the space below, creating a hyperbolic tent-like structure below.

My final idea was a bit nutty (pictured bottom right), but was based on the premise in the previous example, but on a heavier scale, with solid building portions lifted into the air via similar magnetic charges. Originally, it felt like a major pipe dream, even while speaking about it to my audience, but Phillip Morgan and I later spoke on the subject and he brought up the subject of magnetic levitation trains, and how they weigh hundreds of tons, but float on a cushion of air, gliding along at hundreds of miles an hour. Suddenly, my ideas stopped being so crazy, but they remain expensive.

To once again dial it back to the need to make furniture, I postulated that the ferrofluid itself had the possibility for tons of different uses in a smaller scale (I remind you that a semester ago I felt very sure that I could not apply this to buildings).

Pictured on the top is a sketch of a person sitting on a glob of magnetically activated ferrofluid (within a soft, flowing membrane, of course). The middle image is of a table, held up by ferrofluid arcing from the ground upwards, carrying a tablet that could carry a load. The bottom image is of another glob of far more shapeless ferrofluid lifting up a person who is lounging on it in what may be the worst possible manner; very bad for ones back.

In my final slide, I speak of what I plan(ned) to do in the future, which is now. I've already spoken with Dr. Spellane, the head of the Chemistry department, and he seems very intrigued and may be able to procure me some lab time (as well as a partner, so as to make sure I don't blow my arm off in the lab).

My timeline may be better at explaining what I plan to do in the future, actually, especially now that it's apparently 3 in the morning and I am too exhausted to be witty anymore tonight.



Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Carlos K. Quinones: Unorganized thoughts on disaster relief, human need, and human comfort

There was this one time I was reading Game Informer (a videogame magazine) when I was 12. In this particular issue, there was a questionnaire about how “hardcore” of a gamer the reader could call themselves, much like those self tests one would find in some insipid women’s lifestyle magazines (such as Cosmopolitan). I distinctly remember one of the questions from the survey (as I did complete it, of course), which read “have you ever ignored chest pains to continue playing a videogame?” I think I answered “yes,” but that may have been me just padding the answers with questions I could get away with lying on for a higher score.
Thinking back on this, and the concepts of how it relates to human need or human comfort, I start to wonder how one would go about defining needs. Could one lump a desire into the category of needs? Going by that logic, the question was really asking the reader if they would ignore something that causes discomfort (and should be somewhat troubling) in order to fulfill a “need.” Obviously, chest pains are uncomfortable, but is ignoring them can lead to further problems, and should be a clear indicator of a need (to see a physician), which probably should supersede the need to gratify oneself. And, given the pro-videogame bias of the magazine, they were probably hoping that most people who answered could honestly say they ignored chest pains to play video games.
Human need, I believe, should be considered more important than human comfort, primarily because need refers to something that is required to survive. Food and clean water is a need, as without chemical energy and nutrients, the body cannot function or renew/repair itself. Shelter is a need, as protection from the elements and outside forces can not only cause ill health but also lead to stresses. Arguably, there are other things that humans need (such as other people, love, and the like).
Human comfort, I feel, should be secondary to need. However, discomfort can be an indicator that a need has arisen (as in the example above, in this case being a possible heart, lung, or stomach problem). People can derive comfort from different things, making it difficult to define comfort that can fit every person; needs, however, are generally the same with everyone. Someone may find it very comforting to eat a fresh durian fruit, whereas many people would think that the mere odor that the fruit itself emits is positively rancid (myself included; I feel that it smells like ripe burning tires). An even better example is relaxing at the end of a long day with a beer and listening to The Eagles, as more people can relate to that than a reference to a fruit that they may never even see.
Now, in a disaster situation, human need and human comfort shift in priority; comfort gets escalated on the hierarchy of things you would want to deal with, as the unfulfillment of basic needs is making those affected increasingly uncomfortable. The homes that the victims used to have, and may have had for generations, which may have been all that they did have to call their own, may have been destroyed, along with everything that the victims held dear. Family members may have been trapped in those collapsed structures, which would cause even more distress. And possessions, while fleeting, are a prime example of something that people desire, and that which may bring them comfort. To see all of them burn in a fire, or be crushed in a landslide, is incredibly painful for the individual. To see it happen to an entire nation, as with the nation of Haiti, is a horrible sight to behold, not only for those there, but to the entire world to see.
In such a situation, the people may be hungry, worried, tired; they may need to be comforted in addition to having basic needs fulfilled. Part of the work in a relief effort for such a situation entails counseling to those grieving, as well as seeing workers trying to dig people out of the ruins of such a disaster; it gives hope to the victims that maybe they may see family members caught in the rubble come out alive and well. Anything that can be done for the wellbeing of the people caught in the tragedy is attempted, even if it may be only in vain.

What is Living Matter?

Protons, electrons, and neutrons are the base components of the elements. What makes each element different is the number of protons and electrons that it carries; neutrons, with the neutral charge, merely add bulk to the individual atom, and do not contribute to the total charge of the atom (which should remain neutral). What differentiates the different elements is how many total protons are contained in the nucleus, all of which are incredibly difficult to separate, thereby making it such that for all intents and purposes a molecule of any particular element will not be broken apart (even though we can through nuclear reactions in fusion and fission chambers, allowing us to even create new elements, all of which thus far being very unstable and radioactive).

The model of the atom developed by Niels Bohr suggests that the protons and neutrons comprise the dense(r) nucleus, and the electrons orbit around the nucleus in an outer matrix of sets of 8 (with the first set being composed of only 2 electrons), and any others not able to form a set of 8, known as the valence electrons (the electrons that can be readily bonded to other molecules, and which will actively try to do so).

Elements, and the molecular bonds that they form, can be individually seperated down to their separate molecules, and also reconfigured and joined, by a chemical manner. This usually has no effect on the individual elemental molecules other than perhaps the loss (or more commonly the sharing) of a few valence electrons. Chemical means can be as simple as introducing an appropriate solvent, heating, cooling, or even exposure to a reactive element, whereupon the exposure causes a reaction due to a ready availability of free flowing valence electrons in both base elements or molecular bonds as both attempt to form an outer ring of 8 valence electrons, even if this means sharing with another molecule.

The combination of certain particular elements (most notably carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and hydrogen), form the basic building blocks for more complex materials such as lipids, proteins, and vitamins. Furthermore, those particles go on to form amino acids, cell walls, mitochondria, deoxyribonucleic acid, and other essential, larger components, which are just a few of the components of the individual cells that form the bones, organs, fluids, whole beings, and Voltron.

Now, in order to constitute living matter, does the subject itself need to carry a pulse? The individual protozoa may have some issue with that statement, as it itself isn’t reliant on a circulatory system as large as a humans is, or a central heart. There are perhaps even smaller forms of life than that, with virii being smaller than your typical cell, although whether we do classify them as living is still up for debate within the scientific community and are mostly viewed as alien life forms that exist solely to cease. My high school biology textbook defined living as something that currently is, or at one time has been alive, meaning that the plastic keyboard that I am typing on, made from plastics derived from oil, which was created from decaying plant and animal matter sitting under pressure in the earth’s crust for millions of years, is technically living.

Ultimately, what’s living or not is hard to declare in concrete. Western science may try to quantify the phenomena we witness on a daily basis, but clearly cannot explain everything, nor does it claim to give definitive answers; all scientific declarations are merely categorized as “theory,” as most cannot be proven, and established facts may change as new technologies are developed. Hell, Pluto’s no longer a planet, but merely a stray asteroid entering and exiting orbit around our sun, as a member of space debris surrounding our solar system known as the Kuiper Belt. And I sure as hell hope that the definition of “living” from my biology textbook is no longer used (not that it matters; the severely underfunded public school system will most probably need to use those old books for at least another 15 more years).

So how can I define a living matter on the basis I have set out; that we know close to nothing about everything? Unfortunately, I believe it remains situational, and a blanket statement cannot simply answer this question. However, you as the reader will want one, so here it is: anything that can be affected by anything enough to change, and which is capable of continuous change for as long as the subject can before it ultimately breaks down, should be considered living matter. And as answers go, leaving it nearly as confusing as the question itself means I must have answered it properly, to the best of my abilities.