Christopher Schooler
@scarymcleary
Christopher Schooler
architects are now taught to design houses, not homes, thus contributing to the uprooting that feeds into our growing inability to genuinely connect with the world. There is a “poetics of home”—linked to memory, emotions, dreams, identity, and intimacy—that functional architecture and “modern living” have foreclosed
Arturo Escobar • Designs for the Pluriverse: Radical Interdependence, Autonomy, and the Making of Worlds (New Ecologies for the Twenty-First Century)
“Into this wild Abyss
The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave—
Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire,
But all these in their pregnant causes mixed
Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight,
Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain
His dark materials to create more worlds,-- ”
“And I asked myself about the present:
how wide it was,
how deep it was,
how much was mine to keep.”
– Kurt Vonnegut, ‘Slaughterhouse-Five’
The Deepest Sighs, The Frankest Shadows - Gang of Youths
There's a sky full of lights
And none of them stars
But each white, silvery flicker's
A faithful reminder to us
Of a weight that's in youth
That makes a dick of us all
If it happened today
Then it's probably happened before
In a crowd unfamiliar
I just wanna touch a familiar face
And make friends at the
Blue Train Lines - Mount Kimbie, King Krule
Here's another thing
That threw up in my mind like the razor blade and her wrist locked
In a closet of Deep Space Nine
Deposit for a wasted life
I lost it with a sweepstakes sigh in another fucking fight
A junkie in a queue for the lavatory line
That's another lost sight
A stabbing of his eyes
Her veins are now po
“I do not want to believe that death is the gateway to another life. For me, it is a closed door. I do not say it is a step we must all take, but that it is a horrible and dirty adventure. Everything I am offered seeks to deliver man from the weight of his own life. But as I watch the great birds flying heavily through the sky at Djemila, it is pre
... See moreAlbert Camus - The Wind at Djemila
“The wind was fashioning me in the image of the burning nakedness around me. And its fugitive embrace gave me, a stone among stones, the solitude of a column or an olive tree in the summer sky.”
Albert Camus - The Winds of Djemila
“Here I understand what is meant by glory: the right to live without limits. There is only one love in this world. To clasp a woman’s body is also to hold in one’s arm this strange joy that descends from sky to sea. In a moment, when I throw myself down among the absinthe plants to bring their scent into my body, I shall know, appearances to the co
... See moreAlbert Camus - Nuptials at Tipasa, Page 73