So I had a fun playing in France with my family over the Easter holidays. But I did do a LOT of work too.
In a place that has no internet, and outside fun activities are stopped by rain (we all like to say that we went on holiday and the sun shone every day... but 7 out of 10 days was rain), one is slightly pushed to get on with work.
A strange high point of the holiday, a breakthrough if you will, occurred after I had laid out the basic outlines of the 1 :20 section of my building. It was as tall as our bloody house, and took up a hideous amount of space and paper. I then got very angry about architecture and the creature I've become.... and burnt it in a moment of madness. (it was free, very cheap paper, and a very shoddy section - no worries bro.)
In that moment, of flame and heat, there was a moment where the knowledge of the definite destruction of work was a relief; a reminder that the elements are real. This opera house? Not real. Not even nearly.
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