Architecture as Memory
In a timbered farmhouse, smoke-darkened rafters whispered of winters survived together. Hosts explained why doors are low, why tools hang near the hearth, and what blessings are traced over lintels. Every creak translated centuries into tonight’s lullaby.
Architecture as Memory
A riad’s courtyard cooled the day while elders recounted wedding songs echoing across tiles. The neighborhood hammam pulsed with weekly rhythms—care, cleansing, community. Weekends here taught that architecture choreographs care as much as it shelters bodies.
