Awhirl

As one approaches up the boulevard virus-abandoned, nothing, no glimpse, no prelude, no feat of imagination can prepare one for the wonder of this fusion of shapes, projections, facets; every step forward confirming the last, delight upon delight upon delight; every promise, beckoning. This is contemporary as it should be, form and function coalesced; finesse and poise in every line, angle, surface, and texture; staggering is its generosity of space and light; contradiction in its weight and weightlessness, yet comforting, still, in the integrity of that confluence. A fastness heaven-bound. Level seven, the threshold between then and now.

coproetr113