The Sun That Wasn't in the Drawings

I watched the draftsman present the drawings for Whakahā. They point at the renderings. The contractor nodded. Everyone looked at the drawings.

I didn't look at the drawings. Well not in that way.

I pull the walls, the windows, the whole structure down with my eyes first. Bare foundations at the foot of the mountain. I zoom out. From above, I can see how it all connects together. The house, the river running past. Where the islands from the river need to make their way into the garden. The mountain holds the frame. Then I zoom back in.

I watch what they don't see. The way the entry forces people into the wrong rooms first. I watched the sun move a full year of seasons in a single second to catch how the light won't reach the reading corner as they have designed it.

I look at the doors. The doors, each of them, they stack back the wrong way.

Then I'm back, watching them watch me takes notes. I'm documenting the gap between what they designed and who will actually move through this space.

Then I redesign it, in real time. I plot the movement paths. The entry comes left, I flip the doors. I'm designing for my six month old daughter who will run through them chasing her older brothers in a few years. She will run from inside to catch them outside.

Then I'm back to watch their faces shift from "here is the answer" to "oh we see what she sees"

Almost three years later - capturing the redesigned renovation. It's not really a renovation. It's conduction made visible. Movement, light and love paths.

Maddy runs directly to the reading corner and jumps on the beanbag. Millions of tiny dust specks float through the air in the streaming sun. The sun that didn't exist in their drawings.