Complexity & Contradiction.
Cave. The first studio apartment. Roof, walls. A single window and door combo. Your place. Sleep, cook, think. What more?
Houses haven’t changed much. Where there is space, we add more rooms. Where there isn’t, we manage with less. They adapt.
Progress means complexity. We have all this stuff. Often marketed for convenience. To save us time, space and money. It makes our lives better. Apparently.
But ditch it all. Go camping. Open fire. Nature. Nothing better.
Walls used to be solid stone. Or mud. Now they’re nine layers deep. Breather membranes. Vapour barriers. Insulation. Layered complexity. Warm, though.
Toilets. OK. A massive cave upgrade. And showers.
Your standard Victorian house still works. Yes, they are a bit dark. Like the cave. We crave light. But the fundamentals are good. Especially when the layers of trend and progress are stripped.
It’s the character.
“Modern houses are just boxes.” You often hear.
Funny.
All that progress. Or is it just reduction? Either way, it strips out the things we love. But adds what we don’t see. Like nine-layered walls.
We live in a reductionist world. Less is more said the Modernists. Less is a bore said Venturi.
We’d all like a bigger cave. But it’s expensive, right?
Well. Yes. But compare:
Take a new car. Three square metres of space. £30K. Parked doing nothing 95% of the time.
Transform your cave. Make it yours. Always used. Not parked. Twenty-five square metres. £80K.
Makes you think. Doesn’t it?
Back to those wall layers.
Yes they keep us warm. Saving energy. But embodied carbon?
How about we consider the energy to make the layers versus local stone or mud. Just turn up the heating and live with your cave made from the ground beneath. Terre noire.
In the round. It might be better.
For you and the planet.
What happened to ten-foot ceilings? It’s become a uniform seven feet six. Always flat.
Plastic floors, made to look like wood. LVT, they call it. Weird.
Plastics everywhere. It’s good for pipes and covering wires.
Clean lines. Boring? Complexity is charm. Beams exposed. Stone walls. Low ceilings, high ceilings. French doors. Glazing bars framing views. Yeah, more to paint. I know.
Low maintenance is the dream. Only because we’re too busy.
A real fire is everyone’s dream.
Well, it’s mine anyway. Finding logs. Splitting. Seasoning. Crackle. Lovely.
Front doors are overlooked. As is beauty. A door is a cave upgrade. Celebrate it.
Windows. Simple. High cills are a no. We all know that. Walls of glass misunderstand what windows are for. A low cill is a place for things. A threshold to the outside. A place to sit.
Roofs. Often overlooked. But buildings with charm have a roof you notice. A big roof with variety. Steep. Overhangs. Keeps the sun out, rain away.
The contradiction?
It’s the complexity we can see, touch, feel versus the kind we’re told is simple.
Systems hiding systems. All in the name of ease.
Where’s this heading?
A picture forms. A home, built on the ground, from the ground. Around a fire. Big roof. Ceilings with variety. Thick walls. Stone.
Rooms for this, and that. Low cills. Thick curtains. Cosy. Not plastic. A door that says welcome, and keep out.
Built to last. Built to adapt.
My dream home?
This Week’s Links:
The kitchen peninsula: a more collaborative version of the kitchen island.
The best morning drink. Orange juice, an egg and honey. A family tradition.
How to make perfect scrambled eggs.
A black cabin in Ontario.
Main Image credit: Fire. Stone. A place to sit. (MidJourney)
