Saturday, March 17, 2007
A house I pass every morning No. 1
Every morning I pass a house with a peculiar aspect ratio. The ground floor splurges out in a bungalow style, while a small section at the back of the house rises up to make the building three storeys high. A bedroom should have a good view, a lounge should be spacious. It makes perfect sense, but looks odd.
Another strange thing about this house is the large Rodin statue in the porch. It's a writhing woman carved in white marble, almost life size, and clearly much too heavy to lift. She lies there, in ecstasy or agony, pushed into a corner like a prisoner, her sinuous lines an uncomfortable contrast with the exact white corners of the modern house.