Right now, I am surrounded by brutalism. Weird, spaceship-like buildings vomit themselves from the ground everywhere I look. I am staying in what should be termed the “Brutalist District” of this city.
I do not understand brutalism. I think I should climb into my Starship 007 or my x-wing fighter and blast it all to smithereens. It really is that ugly, all rock-laden concrete scored ickiness, mixed with Kermit the Frog.
After spending hours gawking at the Boston Public Library, brutalism is not what I wanted to come home to. Even if the view out of my window looks like Kermit.
Too Much is Just Enough: Architecture Lessons