Dear Architecture,
When she was seventeen, it was a very good year.
She saw the architect ahead of her that she wanted to become.
She was brilliant in her verbal and visual knowledge of Architecture as a thing of beauty.
She displayed her drawings and rendered them as the lifetime language of architects.
When she was seventeen.
When she was thirty-four, it was a very good year.
Architecture revealed her grandeur in physical construction and the time involved to build a single sheltering structure.
The clock Architecture runs by has no hands and holds no time, but she keeps pace with bricks and stones.
The rocks cut and laid by her spin the clock forward and back without a preference for either.
When she was thirty-four.
When she was fifty-one, it was a very good year.
The prime of her career was upon her, and Architecture once again showed her a new direction.
The clients and their demands changed Architecture and her beauty was aging rapidly.
As she grew older, she wondered if this was her end with Architecture.
When she was fifty-one.
When she was sixty-eight, it was a very good year.
The twilight she thought Architecture was in was truly her renaissance.
All, which had turned older and was once new, returned to a rebirth allowing light to shine directly upon her ageless facades.
The cycle Architecture takes on her trip with her is one with no plan or destination, just a path toward another lesson in her arsenal.
When she was sixty-eight.
When she was eighty-five, it was a very good year.
The pace of practice now was Architecture’s way of saying she was hurrying slowly.
The race toward invention came after the struggles of inspiration.
She was and is always a young lass with boundless energy to give at any age to others.
Her gifts are wrapped now in glass and conceal no longer any mysteries.
When she was eighty-five.
When she was one hundred two, it was a very good year.
A century had passed and Architecture with her wonders never lost a step.
Her speed and agility still blinded her daily, as the lights seem dimmed for the last time.
As the light fades for her, she makes one request, her first such demand in years of devoted service.
Her plea was simple, speak kindly of her, as she too will retire with her lifelong partner.
Till her next foundation is poured and she rebels.
It was a very good year.
Your Faithful Companion.
Location: N/A
T. Joseph Surjan - design scientist & writer
S. Hjelte Fumanelli - project architect & digital modeling
When she was seventeen, it was a very good year.
She saw the architect ahead of her that she wanted to become.
She was brilliant in her verbal and visual knowledge of Architecture as a thing of beauty.
She displayed her drawings and rendered them as the lifetime language of architects.
When she was seventeen.
When she was thirty-four, it was a very good year.
Architecture revealed her grandeur in physical construction and the time involved to build a single sheltering structure.
The clock Architecture runs by has no hands and holds no time, but she keeps pace with bricks and stones.
The rocks cut and laid by her spin the clock forward and back without a preference for either.
When she was thirty-four.
When she was fifty-one, it was a very good year.
The prime of her career was upon her, and Architecture once again showed her a new direction.
The clients and their demands changed Architecture and her beauty was aging rapidly.
As she grew older, she wondered if this was her end with Architecture.
When she was fifty-one.
When she was sixty-eight, it was a very good year.
The twilight she thought Architecture was in was truly her renaissance.
All, which had turned older and was once new, returned to a rebirth allowing light to shine directly upon her ageless facades.
The cycle Architecture takes on her trip with her is one with no plan or destination, just a path toward another lesson in her arsenal.
When she was sixty-eight.
When she was eighty-five, it was a very good year.
The pace of practice now was Architecture’s way of saying she was hurrying slowly.
The race toward invention came after the struggles of inspiration.
She was and is always a young lass with boundless energy to give at any age to others.
Her gifts are wrapped now in glass and conceal no longer any mysteries.
When she was eighty-five.
When she was one hundred two, it was a very good year.
A century had passed and Architecture with her wonders never lost a step.
Her speed and agility still blinded her daily, as the lights seem dimmed for the last time.
As the light fades for her, she makes one request, her first such demand in years of devoted service.
Her plea was simple, speak kindly of her, as she too will retire with her lifelong partner.
Till her next foundation is poured and she rebels.
It was a very good year.
Your Faithful Companion.
Location: N/A
T. Joseph Surjan - design scientist & writer
S. Hjelte Fumanelli - project architect & digital modeling