Every so often the idea of design hits me in the chest like a medicine ball. The idea that every man-made thing we see — from the hinges on a van to the metal lining on a curb — was designed and built by someone to serve a specific purpose is confounding in its size. Further, every design implies history as every object is an improvement over an older less-efficient version of the same thing. Intent is something we experience in everything we see and touch — somehow this fascinates me.
Years from now, when I’m a famous architectural photographer or zoologist, I’ll have the rusty bottoms of trucks and vans to thank for teaching me to revel in designs that function in spite of entropy.