An addition is born.

As the title of this post suggests, we designers often think of projects as our "little children". From the moment we meet with a client until the day a line on paper become a wall in space, we love them and nurture them as we would a child. And like children, they require all our attention, keep us up at night, and in no way can fend for themselves. But, each step in the process is another step closer to becoming the freestanding project that lives in the world contributing to society independent of it's creators.

As the say goes, "It takes a village...". You know the rest. This saying also applies to a fledgeling design project. There are the parent architects, the cousin interns, the aunt structural engineer and the cranky great grandfather contractor that hates the entire family on principle.
In the coming months I (and my wonderful intern Lisa) am working on an addition to a house for a lovely couple with two children of their own. My little creation will help this family live a life with a bit more elbow room. Seemingly a simple problem, there are many things to consider. The first order of business on the proverbial design table is scale and form.

In the photos above a soldier row of models sits obediently waiting to be tested in context.

There is also never a shortage of drawings, lovingly crafted by hand to ensure the relationship between parent and child is as direct as it can be.
I love the design process and the idea that I can create something from almost nothing, take care to delicately help it evolve and grow, and then see it standing in the world on it's own foundation.