The industrialized world has tried to approximate paradise in its suburbs, with luxe, calme, volupté, cul-de-sacs, cable television and two-car garages, and it has produced a soft ennui that shades over into despair and a decay of the soul suggesting that Paradise is already a gulag. Countless desperate teenagers will tell you so. For paradise does

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But I also love the way that buildings are — they’re these huge structures that we have accepted as the places we go in to get what we need, or to sleep, or to work, or whatever. They’re also these huge towering structures. I think of them as if they’re creatures; they’re other kinds of beings. Sometimes we don’t even touch them. I’m interested in ... See more

Cocooned in metal, hurtling down the time highway, we become spectators rather than participants in the world around us. The landscape blurs into the background as scenery, rather than a crucial, living, breathing part of our existence. Our focus narrows to what’s ahead of us, to what needs to get done.

This speed and insulation creates an emotional... See more