I don’t know much about the aesthetic, art or philosophy of architecture. As with everything else on offer, there is some I love and some not so much, and (quite) a bit that is outright fugly.

I do know that architecture is (also) a commodity. It can be big business with design constrained by the physics of maximising rentable floor space. And it can be a sort of performative ego projection for the rich.

Yet sometimes, thankfully, architecture delivers more than the sum of its parts. Negative space, light, texture, surface and purpose combine much as the noetic qualities of words combine in a poem.

Ancient ruins. Luxury property. Public infrastructure. Humble abode.

It might be a purposeful project or an unexpected emergence, or simply the situated happenstance of an observant eye and an appreciative beholder.

With a camera.