I love houses. Not because of their symbolism or whatever, but because there are so many fantastic variations on architecture that I can easily be entertained by looking at them. Since I live in the Northeast, there are a lot of different types of houses present, so whenever I find myself in a new town or neighborhood, I spend most of my time staring out the window, glancing from left to right, excitedly taking in shapes and colors.
Like everyone else, I used to make diagrams of my dream house when I was about nine. I’ve also had some really weird dreams about houses, and consequently have a lot of really fabulous ideas for the construction of my future abode (I probably won’t realize any of these, but it’s nice to imagine). Looking at new houses always inspires some additional design. Slowly compiling in my brain is a superhouse, assembled in various styles and shapes, stretching across a spectacularly forested property, lying above, upon, and below it. It will be spectacular.
Also, odds are I will never be an architect, so I just have to dream.