A post from the Facebook page Old World Zone about how property’s architecture or lack of, has become regressive, reads:
“This image is a stark reminder of how, in the shadows of the term ‘progressive,’ our architecture has become regressive.
Look at the ornate details, the harmonious flow, the sheer presence of The Singer Building, in New York. Built in 1908 and demolished in 1969 to make way for One Liberty Plaza (right).
Our ancestors weren’t afraid of beauty, of infusing their structures with soul. They understood the language of proportion, of light and shadow.
Now, we churn out glass-and-steel boxes, devoid of character, monuments to efficiency over artistry. We call it progress, but is it truly progress when we sacrifice the very elements that elevate our lives?
Think of all the old world architecture, not just native to western hemispher, but all across our realm. These weren’t just feats of engineering; they were expressions of a culture, a connection to the divine. They whispered stories in stone, sang of aspirations and dreams. Can you imagine our future defined by soulless cubes?
Our forefathers were masters not just of aesthetics, but of harness natural and aetheric way of living.
They harnessed natural elements, built structures that breathed with the earth, not against it. We, on the other hand, guzzle fossil fuels, choke our cities with smog, and call it development.
True progress isn’t about blindly chasing the new. It’s about learning from the wisdom of the past, about respecting the tapestry of history woven into every brick and beam. It’s about asking ourselves: are we building structures that will inspire future generations, or monuments to our own hubris?”
The regression in the progression of the property industry
A post from the Facebook page Old World Zone about how property’s architecture or lack of, has become regressive, reads:
“This image is a stark reminder of how, in the shadows of the term ‘progressive,’ our architecture has become regressive.
Look at the ornate details, the harmonious flow, the sheer presence of The Singer Building, in New York. Built in 1908 and demolished in 1969 to make way for One Liberty Plaza (right).
Our ancestors weren’t afraid of beauty, of infusing their structures with soul. They understood the language of proportion, of light and shadow.
Now, we churn out glass-and-steel boxes, devoid of character, monuments to efficiency over artistry. We call it progress, but is it truly progress when we sacrifice the very elements that elevate our lives?
Think of all the old world architecture, not just native to western hemispher, but all across our realm. These weren’t just feats of engineering; they were expressions of a culture, a connection to the divine. They whispered stories in stone, sang of aspirations and dreams. Can you imagine our future defined by soulless cubes?
Our forefathers were masters not just of aesthetics, but of harness natural and aetheric way of living.
They harnessed natural elements, built structures that breathed with the earth, not against it. We, on the other hand, guzzle fossil fuels, choke our cities with smog, and call it development.
True progress isn’t about blindly chasing the new. It’s about learning from the wisdom of the past, about respecting the tapestry of history woven into every brick and beam. It’s about asking ourselves: are we building structures that will inspire future generations, or monuments to our own hubris?”