Shelter from the snow

This morning, I didn’t want to think about architecture. I tried to — I racked my brain attempting to produce original, compelling ideas to share with you. I came up with false starts and wacky theories, and tried to find events in the world around me that I could somehow relate to design. But all my ideas simply fizzled and fell flat. None of my theories made sense, and none of it seemed to really matter.

And the snowstorm outside kept distracting me.

The snow streamed down in hypnotic rhythm. My room’s window sill reminded me of the proscenium arch used in a theater, framing my view of the white landscape so that it seemed to be some exotic other world disconnected from my reality.

I wanted to just hole up in the familiar surroundings of my own warm, cozy room and go back to sleep.

It was at that point that I realized that I was experiencing one of the most fundamental aspects of architecture. The building, for once, is shelter.