Did you ever build forts as a child? I did. It was a place for me to hide, a place to call my own, a place to nap, a place to make a mess, and a place to foster my love of architecture.
If it turns out that I’m still building them now what does that say? That I’m childish? That my idea of architecture is childish?
No need to worry yourself about the fact that my “fort” is really nothing more than some buckets stacked into basically a pyramid. It served it’s purposes: to keep my sister’s out; and to show my dad that the number of 5-gallon buckets he has stacked in our garage has reached a level of ridiculousness so severe that the only possible way he could make use of all of them is to let his young adult son use them to build structures in his backyard.
But the fort was only the first of two displays meant to prove to my father that he owns and stores more buckets than can possibly be used in any normal manner. Just so we’re clear, my dad is not a painter. So there really is no legitimate reason for all of this bucket collecting.
The inspiration for my second structure was one of those champagne pyramids that you sometimes see at nice banquets or galas. For comparison’s sake, here’s a picture.
The only problem with my exhibits was that by the end of building them I was having so much fun that I asked my dad if he could get any more buckets so I could build even greater designs. If he gets some, I’m sure you’ll know.
…Still No Job