The house of this evening

The series “The house of this evening” quotes Montale when describing a disorienting environment that is as uncomfortable as our existence, along with the safety of our lifestyle. Home, the emblem of hearth, is burning, crumbling, clearing out leaving us with the remnants of a mostly unattainable safety.

Just as the poem that makes a statement through the anomaly of its metrics, these “houses” are tall, overhanging and rickety. If you look closely enough, though, they’re like tiny poems made of bricks, escaping from the gloomy anonymity of suburban life, looming in the distance, with their bare nature exposed.

These houses, raised from the ground and sprouted with and from the tree, have a desired life beyond the Earth’s surface as their foundations. Their roots connect them to the ground, while their foliage consists of steady cities that created small, self-reliant urban areas.