I thank my camera for showing me the architecture of things.

All buildings: big or small, beautiful or ugly, are the spiritualisation of matter — Dean Cavanagh

My Fujifilm hangs around my neck like a talisman. A magic box that opens a portal to the spirits of the buildings. I notice the forms and the spaces and the way that they capture and bend my reactions.

Oooh, I like this.
Or.
Ohmygosh, is one fuggly¹ hunk of concrete.
I have a rudimentary mixed up comprehension of a few architectural styles. Piazzo. Art Nouveau. Brutalism. Scandinavian. Classical. Commercial.
I know what I like, but I know that I don’t know much.

I sense their intent. How many of the modern buildings seem to be built not to last. Fading and cracking and receding into a vibe of urban beige. How others hold within their rebar DNA something deeper that will last at least a little while.

1. Fucking ugly. ↩︎