I’ve been thinking, reading, writing about houses lately (due to another, soon-to-be-blogged project.) Thinking about the way that the space around us shapes our sense of possibility and the ideas inside of the mind.
Then stepping outside this afternoon, post-rain, the strip of land alongside the creek very green, and bright in the sun that slanted at just the right angle between the clouds and the top of Mt. Sanitas, the soil dark and puddles swirling copper when I walked through them in my boots.
Most of our houses, our apartments, our offices and buildings—they are too box-y, too much involved with themselves and the people who made and live in them. The outside world is unpredictable and influences us, if we let it, will pull us quite naturally out of the minds that we occupy so much of the time.
Perhaps then, the best space would be one that invites in as much of the outside as possible. That does not shelter the live-r, but allows the elements (or at least the experience of the elements), into interior spaces.
What would it feel like to live this way?
“I should like my house to be similar to that of the ocean wind, all quivering with gulls.” ~ Georges Spyridaki
* That last photo, of the tent on the beach in Morocco, comes via Peggy Markel