Plans And Sections Of The Winchester House

...regarding a certain practice of the indoor wild, whereby homes--which are, out of long habit, avowedly definite--lose their drawn lines. The particular horror of squirrels in the ceiling, or a centipede in the kitchen, is the erosion of the drawn line.

Some designers work for grain, work for involution, work for involvement; work to make the sightline reel. No; a true grain may only be purchased through this surrender of control. You purchase it through leaving the last thing and nailing on the next. You can make a corpus this way; nail the feet to the legs, to the hip, to the guts, to the rib. A career like this is a blissful, evolving thing.

A wilderness of rooms is obtained through a surfeit of rooms. Which needn't be the same room each time, needn't be many rooms, only more rooms. Wilderness is only extent, passages and passages and passages. When the habit of building outlasts the habit of economy, these effects will be obtained.

There can be only so many glaring exits from the wild house. Only the long border. The way across the mountains and through the side of the checkpoint. A long border and your feet travelling along it.