In this way, large building projects of potentially major civic importance are delivered into the hands of competent but unimaginative firms. The assumption is: Anyone can do it. Just follow the guidelines.

This system is based upon the catastrophic misconception that architectural values can be objectively quantified. From this initial mistake, erroneous ideas accumulate: architecture is the production of images; discrimination among images is entirely a matter of taste; one person's taste is as good as another's; the most popular image (or as it usually works out, the least unpopular image) must be the best building.

But of course, architecture is not a matter of images. It is the relationship of visual and spatial perceptions to conceptual abstractions. Or as Frank Lloyd Wright once put it, ``Architecture is the scientific art of making structure express ideas.''


--``Don't Rebuild. Reimagine.'', The New York Times, September 8, 2002.





Embracing Light (Kings Canyon)

But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloister's pale,
And love the high embowèd roof,
With antic pillars massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim, religious light.

-John Milton (1608-1674),
Il Penseroso





Pilgrims (Kings Canyon)

There came at night into that lodging-place
Twenty-nine in a group
Of sundry people, by chance fallen
Into fellowship, and they were all pilgrims
Wanting to ride toward Canterbury.

-Geoffrey Chaucer (c.1340-1400),
The Canterbury Tales





Hermitage in the Mirror (Yosemite)

And thus invoke us, "You, whom reverend love
    Made one another's hermitage;
    You, to whom love was peace, that now is rage;
Who did the whole world's soul contract, and drove
        Into the glasses of your eyes
        (So made such mirrors, and such spies,
That they did all to you epitomize);
    Countries, towns, courts beg from above
    A pattern of your love."

-John Donne (1572-1631),
The Canonization





Weep No More (Yosemite)

Weep you no more, sad fountains;
    What need you flow so fast?

-Anonymous (c.1400-c.1600),
Weep You No More, Sad Fountains





Dancer (Yosemite)

O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?

-William Butler Yeats,
Among School Children, 1927





Waves Aflame (SF Bay)

The western wave was all aflame.
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge,
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, 1798





Secret Joy (Wallace Falls)

Thou joy'st in better marks, of soil, of air,
Of wood, of water; therein thou art fair.

-Ben Johnson (1572-1637),
To Penshurst





Burden (SF Bay)

For forty days and forty nights
    He wade thro red blude to the knee,
And he saw neither sun nor moon,
    But heard the roaring of the sea.

-Anonymous (c.1400-c.1600),
Thomas the Rhymer





Silent Night (Princeton)

Since she enjoys her long night's festival,
Let me prepare towards her, and let me call
This hour her Vigil, and her Eve, since this
Both the year's, and the day's deep midnight is.

-John Donne (1572-1631),
A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day,
Being the Shortest Day





Soul of Light (The Great Smoky Mountains)

Do but look on her eyes, they do light
    All that Love's world compriseth!
Do but look on her hair, it is bright
    As Love's star when it riseth!

-Ben Johnson (1572-1637),
The Triumph of Charis,
from A Celebration of Charis
in Ten Lyric Pieces





Flight of the Soul (The Great Smoky Mountains)

Here at the fountain's sliding foot,
Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root,
Casting the body's vest aside,
My soul into the boughs does glide;

-Andrew Marvell (1621-1678),
The Garden





Parallel Worlds (White Sands)

As lines, so loves, oblique may well
Themselves in every angle greet;
But ours so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.

-Andrew Marvell (1621-1678),
The Definition of Love





When Fair Things Are Fading Away (White Sands)

I'd be a butterfly; living a rover,
Dying when fair things are fading away!

-Thomas Haynes Bayly (1797-1839),
I'd Be Butterfly





Window of Dreams (Carlsbad)

I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me--who knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!

-Percy Bysshe Shelley,
The Indian Serenade, 1822





Let There Be Light (Carlsbad)

Let there be light.

-The Old Testament,
Genesis 1:1-3





A Lost Legend (Carlsbad)

She sigh'd for Agnes' dreams,
        sweetest of the year.
Asleep in lap of legends old.

-John Keats,
The Eve of St. Agnes, 1820





Cloud City (Rainier)

Even so my son one early morn did shine
With all-trimphant splendour on my brow;
But, out, alack! he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.

-William Shakespeare (1564-1616),
Full Many a Glorious Morning
Have I Seen
,
Sonnet XXXIII





Tears from Heaven (Rainier)

He gave to Mis'ry all he had, a tear,
He gained from Heav'n ('twas all he wished) a friend.

-Thomas Gray (1716-1771),
Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard,
The Epitaph





Dance of the Spirit (Rainier)

While all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white Moon-shine.

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge,
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, 1798





Wonder Land (Rainier)

I thou be'st borne to strange sights,
    Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
    Till age snow white hairs on thee.

-John Donne (1572-1631),
Go and Catch a Falling Star





Endless Night (Rainier)

And, as a vapor or a drop of rain,
    Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
    So when or you or I are made
    A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
    All love, all liking, all delight
    Lies drowned with us in endless night.

-Robert Herrick (1591-1673),
Corinna's Going a-Maying





Immortality (Rainier)

Lead me from the unreal to the real!
Lead me from darkness to light!
Lead me from death to immortality!

-The Upanishads (800-500 B.C.),
Brihadaranyaka Upanishad





Light and Motion (Rainier)

But thou wilt never more appear
Folded within my hemisphere:
Since both thy light and motion
Like a fled star is fall'n and gone;

-Henry King (1592-1669),
Exequy on His Wife





Fleeing Light (Rainier)

But, O! as to embrace me she inclined,
I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night.

-John Milton (1608-1674),
On His Deceased Wife







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