Windows that look both ways
From inside, a window is a view. From the street, it is the only part of a private life a building agrees to show.
From inside, a window is a view. From the street, it is the only part of a private life a building agrees to show.
From inside, a window is a view. From the street, it is the only part of a private life a building agrees to show.
After midnight the network changes character. Fewer lines, longer waits, and a city that finally shows how it is wired.
A grid does not make a page beautiful. It makes the next hundred pages possible, and that is the better gift.
A good sign is read in less than a second, by someone who is tired, late and does not speak the language.
Every floor plan lies a little. Stairs cannot: they show how a building really moves people from one level to the next.
Four minutes between trams, all day. The timetable is a design object, and it is printed at every stop.
Benches that face each other, chairs you can move: small decisions that decide whether a square is used.
Lead, ink and patience. A week in a print shop changes how you look at every letter on a screen.
I write about the built world: rooms, objects, type and the cities that hold them.
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