And now my meandering takes me
to that composition glimpsed from
the SS115, scattered around, inside
and on top of that rocky porous
tuff, that aromatic hill.
Olive, almond and citrus trees
alongside bushes of local caper
and thyme, engaged in their battle
to conquer the travertine ground
as the six senses take over.

RP02 Seen from the road, the
architecture suggests one storey,
no glass, no house, but rather a
composition of fragmented elements
as tightly knit as the cogs and
gears of a clock yet stretching out
to touch each boundary.
Twenty-five stone blocks of 2.4
metres in height compose the suspended
pre-compressed beam, anchored here
at one point to the earth. A curved
concrete wall drags the land back
to make space for a courtyard that
opens onto the landscape.
Although the space beneath the
thin concrete roof is filled with
a pleasant breeze and shade, the
seemingly single-storey glass house
extends its roots out through the
plot in search of cooler temperatures
and privacy.
A concrete pipe to reach the
underground car park: down I go. Up a
peaceful blue tube I scamper and from
the glass living room, the bifurcated
tube is revealed.
I descend once more into the dark
and towards the silent underground
rooms.
Now embraced in warm colour.
Walls bend and fold, light flows in.
Dynamic and arrogant, this
disorientating tube. With no
hesitation whatsoever it penetrates
and violently breaks into the three
sections, imposing entrances and
generating hierarchies.
Crossing a bedroom, I reach a garden
and step out again onto the hillside.
A one-lane steel pool suspended in
the stone beam floats before me, and
I swim in it.
No more can that massive rough
stone beam be separated from that
hybrid flute-like pool as it morphs
into a polyhedral stair, nor can the
pool ever dry out lest the desire to
collapse and tip over.
Surrendered to oddness, I return
to my wanderings.