Evening, and the studio has gone quiet. A late sun slants across 14 sleeping architects and one sleeping parcel, a modest thing that arrived this morning containing a single pair of socks.
We have not yet decided what to make of it. It has a clean fold, a stable base and a surprising amount of ambition. Perhaps it will become a villa. Perhaps a boat. Perhaps it will stay a box, and the box will be enough. The great lesson of this practice is that a space need not be anything at all to be occupied entirely.
We climb in. We turn once. We close the door that is not a door. Good night.
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