We are unaccustomed to outdoors. Outdoors, out-of-doors, swinging doors. Maybe there is no distinction between in and out? We build outsized domiciles. It is a longer walk to the door. Why bother?
A tiny home says: yes, the living room is outside.
I remember the first observation my Bengali friend had after a drive from the St Louis airport into town (about two hours through the burbs). This observation came in the form of a question: where are all the people?
Sprawled out in two-dimensional mania? Ensconced in virtual irreality? Crushed by piles of information, hip-hopping into inexactitude? Nature deficit disorder: NDD.
It all comes down to this: The trees will tell you secrets that no one believes…