…The efflux of the soul is happiness, here is happiness, I think it pervades the open air, waiting at all times, Now it flows unto us, we are rightly charged.
Here rises the fluid and attaching character,
The fluid and attaching character is the freshness and sweetness of man and woman…
Toward the fluid and attaching character exudes the sweat of the love of young and old, From it falls distill’d the charm that mocks beauty and attainments, Toward it heaves the shuddering longing ache of contact…
Song of the Open Road
BY WALT WHITMAN
Your opening sentence is the approach to your home – the path from public to private. It is more than a connection of our built environment to the earth. It is also a movement towards something more sacred than the shared space of the street. I believe it should reflect a shared agreement between man and nature. A progressive embrace of nature’s soft undulations, resonance, perfume, blush and luminescent shifts. It should be a place of stillness with only a ripple of movement – more of a beckoning to pause at each curve rather than a push to move on.
Take time to review your own path at home. What do you feel as you move closer to the sanctuary you call home? Does it reflect a connectedness to all things living? If not, if the presence of joy appears elusive, perhaps your path is one of pure possibility this Spring.
I have but one book from my undergraduate studies in the School of Architecture that I have kept close to me. My favorite pages are dog eared, referenced passages are highlighted in pink and the worn jacket is evidence of my admiration. It is called, A PATTERN LANGUAGE Towns – Buildings – Construction by the Center for Environmental Structure out of Berkeley, California.
It is a small, fat, red bound book that could easily be mistaken for a bible. I inherited a love of books from both my parents who have their own library legacy – one of facts and ideology and one of passion and adventure. Both my children who are
under twenty years of age already own more books than any other possession. It is no wonder then that I design more home libraries and library style built-ins than anything else. A passion for books runs in my blood and this particular book speaks to my heart.
A PATTERN LANGUAGE describes, or rather deconstructs, the sacred connection between our built environments, the natural one and the people who use them. It details deeply rooted archetypal patterns which foster spirit and joy from alcoves and paths to pools of light and from the smallest scale of one’s garden to the larger sense of space we call towns and cities.
I have a kindred understanding for this particular vernacular stemming from a time when I built forts and treehouses and explored walled villages in Europe as a child, when I ran retirement developments for the aging as a young adult to this current moment when I am building out a 4,000 sq ft home for a family in metamorphasis while designing five other interiors for couples looking to nurture a new facet of themselves. While it is an intuition more so than a cerebral one, A PATTERN LANGUAGE does a splendid job of breaking the causes of those feelings into timeless design specifics. I dedicate this year’s blogs to this book and the path of inspiration it has set before me.
Enjoy the new year and take the time to
discover your own sacred connection to place.