I walked outside and heard the wind play a song with the leaves in waves. I heard the dead leaves crackle along the pavement too, reminding me life still stirs us after death. I heard the ice cream truck in the distance and the rushing wheels cut through the silence. I saw a reflection of clouds forming and unraveling in a puddle in the asphalt and dancing silvery leaves.
I attended a lecture yesterday at UM SoA by a principal at Studio Jean Nouvel. When I was walking I remembered what she said about the connection to life. That architecture must connect us with life and we must recapture the art of living.
I heard Spanish coming from the tv out of a neighbor’s open window. I thought how they knew of this need instinctively and looked at my dog who was also taking in the change of textures and smells below his naked paws and wondered how it would feel below my feet. I thought of how he knows the need to go outside and smell and see and feel and be a part of existence. I thought of how important it is to be alive, to be awake, to be connected to our environment. Not simply as a psychological exercise but for our own sanity and health and spiritual, intrinsic need, to belong somewhere. How important it is to be here, to be grounded in a place.
I wondered, naturally, if the interior can be freed in such a way. Can it be integrated as a continuation of this environment? Can it nurture the introspective world of the individual while connecting to the whole in a continuous experience so it is not an isolated moment but is rather a part of the whole, of the greater dialogue of existence?