So now you know as much as I do.
I documented anything with scaffolding, she goes on, from tiny shop window renovations to annihilated city blocks, the numbering system based on location, date and time of day. In the early years, I included weather conditions as well: temperature, wind direction, humidity, dew point … but, oh my dear! That was far too cumbersome, so I stopped. My wanderings through the city brought to mind that every boy of a certain generation who had a Meccano set would try to build a crane on the living room floor, getting it to lift little things over here and put them down over there. The romance of engineering persists no matter how many planes explode or bridges fall. In the stand-off between cranes and water, scaffolding is the interlocutor, the sweetener, the mediator, satisfying a longing for structure on the one hand and love of transience on the other.
And here’s the letter. I’ve read it so many times, and I’m still wondering …
This is what she writes:
“By the time you see this, the city we knew will be gone; a rich, multi-course meal now a dry biscuit.
And our ideals? Who can say ….
My survey of construction projects began, she continues, using an unobtrusive pen camera with which I could also make notes.
Transience was all. Transience was all …
On Site review 24
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