Now I know why we (humans) like ruins so much:
In our skeleton of a workshop, I perceive the world around it as does a painter who looks at his model through a screen. Objects at distances from arm's length to stratospheric intangibility converse in my presence. The exposed frame salutes the neighboring garden's trees. A passing plane, caught in the crossbeams reveals his shape and turns a wing before moving on. The architecture building is held at a safe distance by a corner of pur shelter's frame. It can't assail us here with its too large forms and its moat of a sun-baked lawn.