Year: 2025

Some cities whisper. Others hum. And then there are those that crackle—alive, tangled, unpredictable, like the city never really stopped growing, just kept twisting around whatever stood in its way. These are the cities that don’t follow straight lines or logical grids. They spill. They fold. They forget where they…

So, you’ve stumbled upon a mysterious pocket watch tucked inside a crumbling book in the corner of a forgotten library wing. Naturally, you press the shiny button (because who wouldn’t?), and suddenly—whoosh—you’re a time traveler. But not just any time traveler. You’re an architectural time traveler. Your job? To flit…

“Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” It begins, as all great fairy tales do, with a wall. He doesn’t knock. He doesn’t ask. He just appears like a stencil-slinging ghost in the night, armed with spray cans and existential dread, and blesses the wall with a rat,…

Houses are not just houses. Not in horror films. They are breathing, watching, waiting. Their walls have ears, their floors whisper secrets, and their doorways always seem wider when you’re alone. The Conjuring. Insidious. These aren’t just stories about ghosts; they are stories about space—about how architecture itself conspires against…

“Every old building whispers a story—sometimes we listen, sometimes we drown it out with new walls and fresh paint.” There’s something almost tragic about an old building getting a makeover. It’s like seeing an aging movie star after a too-aggressive facelift—smoothed, stretched, unrecognizable. The wrinkles that once whispered secrets of…