Walking through walls
On architecture, writing, and the invisible buildings in our minds.
I still walk the halls of the hotel from time to time.
My mind drifts, and I’m surprised to find myself in it; walking down the hallways, lingering in the wide stairwells, admiring the carefully-framed views from the charming porthole windows. I know it inside and out, from the rustic cedar shingles hugging the rooftop gables to the just-right bend in th…