housing tract

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William Krisel, a pioneering architect who brought his vision of modernism to Southern California tract housing, died Monday at age 92.

Tract housing often implies cookie-cutter. But in Palm Springs, Krisel varied homes’ rooflines, paint schemes, and setbacks from the street so no two tract homes next to each other looked the same — despite all having one basic floorplan. He also popularized the “butterfly” roof.

His homes featured open floorplans and clerestory windows to bring in even more light.

William Krisel, Architect Who Helped Define California Modernism, Dies At 92

Photos: Darren Bradley/Courtesy of Darren Bradley and Julius Shulman photography archive. The Getty Research Institute, 2004.R.10

Living That No-Neighbor Life

@braedens | AO3everybody probably knows by now that ace!Derek is my favorite thing, so bless you for giving me an excuse to write more of it ^u^

by @clotpolesonly

“So the real estate agent makes the assumption that their marriage involves sex. Most people do! Derek sees it on his face the second Stiles decides to be a dick about it this time, but he knows better than to think he can stop it. All he can do is pinch the bridge of his nose and brace himself as the bright, false smile lights up his beloved husband’s face.”


The first place was an apartment and it was too cramped. The second was a duplex but wasn’t nearly nice enough for the price. The third was a tract house that may or may not have been the set of a horror movie in the past, or if it hadn’t then it was missing its chance. By the fourth place, Derek was starting to lose faith in their frazzled but determinedly perky real estate agent.

“This next one is a real zinger,” she said after each flop. “Best of the bunch! I’ve been fighting people off with a stick!”

Stiles had snorted the first two times she’d said it, laughed outright the third, and by now he had resorted to mocking her under his breath and shooting exasperated looks at Derek.

Derek could handle the perkiness if he had to—that sort of attitude tended to deflate when it ran into his natural stoicism anyway, at least after a while—but Stiles’ tendency towards earnest-sounding sarcasm just added fuel to her fire when she didn’t recognize that it was sarcasm. She took it at face value and genuinely thought that he was as excited as she was.

With this mistaken camaraderie in mind, she seemed to have taken Stiles as more of a new friend than a client she needed to be professional with. She kept whispering asides to him conspiratorially, thinking Derek couldn’t hear her, which made the both of them roll their eyes as soon as she turned away to espouse the virtues of the newest property.

It was never anything bad or mean-spirited, at least. Just gossipy.

“No worrying about landlords here, no sir! Only so many times you can lie about the dog before you lose your mind, am I right?”

“The owner says these are the original floors, but between you and me? Definitely repanelled. Twice!”

“Hell of a catch you got with this one, kid. Hubba-hubba!”

That last one was a little cringe-worthy, but it was far from the first time Derek had overheard comments like that about himself. He was used to it, and even Stiles had taken that one on the chin with a smile and a “Yup, he’s all mine!”

But then they reached the seventh place on the agent’s never-ending list. It was a gorgeous two-storey house with an open floor plan, a backyard that bordered a small strip of woods, and an isolation that drove the price down where they could afford it without dipping into the Hale insurance money. Derek was smiling almost as soon as he got out of the car, seeing wide windows perfectly positioned to let in the kind of light he would need for his painting. Stiles bumped his shoulder on the way up the drive and took off to explore as soon as the agent got the door open.

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anonymous asked:

Hellooo👋🏾 , so I was thinking about building up newcrest and I want the world to be cohesive and not just random architectural styles placed everywhere , so my question is how do you keep your building style and your worlds so consistent and cohesive ? Do you just know what the features are for your style of architecture , or do you always look at references or something else ? And also would you have like a recommendation for which architectural style would fit for newcrest ?

Hi Anon! I feel like the only consistent world I’ve done has been Newlyn Hills/Newcrest - everything else is a bit of a mess! XD There are so many styles of architecture I like and things I want to attempt to build, that it can be tough to keep things cohesive. But I think if I tried to do an entire world in one style, I’d get bored pretty quickly. Jumping around a bit keeps things interesting. :)

Newlyn Hills was kind of a compromise in that regard - instead of deciding on a style for the whole world, I picked a style for each neighborhood. I tried to choose styles that I am familiar with and that I enjoy building (Craftsman, Victorian, and whatever you would call downtown - Small City Main Street?). Those styles allow for some variation - if you look at the Victorians in Newlyn Hills, they’re all fairly different from one another. Each one was inspired by a different picture that I found on the web. And yet they’re all Victorians that would have been built around the same time.

I think that’s part of the key to consistency - imagine how the neighborhood was developed. Pick a time period and look for houses from that era. They don’t have to be the same exact style (unless you want to emulate tract housing! :), but should be a similar size and shape. For example, you don’t want a three-story Victorian next to a one-story bungalow (well, you might, but if you’re going for cohesiveness, they may look a little odd together!).

More under the cut!

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Finding my way Home

The second of my @mores2sl contributions. This story is a modern AU and is rated M for mature subject matter, sexual situations and coarse language. Reader discretion is advised. Also available on AO3 and FFnet.


Originally posted by stupidteletubbie

It’s past eight when I finally make it to the Hob. The gang is crowded around our usual table, and already it’s littered with bottles and glasses. We have a standing date, drinks and pool every Friday night at six-thirty, but I seldom make it on time. I love my job, but my boss is kind of an asshole and I end up staying late more often than not.

Even from the door I can see that Annie is perched in Finnick’s lap. I thought that when they got married last year the PDAs would stop, but marriage seems to have intensified their need to touch each other. Johanna is beside Finn, and probably stealing swigs of his beer when his attention is diverted. Cressida, Jo’s girlfriend, and Thresh, my neighbour, have their heads bent in serious conversation. And, saving me a seat on the aisle, is my best friend in the world. Peeta.

Every time I see him my chest tightens, just a little. I’m so damned lucky to have him in my life.

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they say heartbreak tastes like acid rain
& cold fries & neat vodka.

ours burned a forest fire in our throats.
ours disintegrates us.

i was always your Panorama-girl, your Bird’s-Eye View girl, reshaping your stars, undoing your abstract disaster, always bubblegum stuck to your flannel sleeve.

i drive the Ford pick-up - my bleary-eyed monstrosity, home. pass bogs and tract houses and trailers and rest stops. cheap diners & cheap thrills, a boy with bloodshot eyes on the side of the road, angel face and demon breath.
i close my eyes & he dissapears.

your blue-petalled stare and my Harley Quinn fantasy, pig tails & plum lipstick, knuckles that thirst for blood & feet that chafe for you & wine, wine, wine. / chasing glowing cars along with the ignition roar of the Thursday night wild-flyers, you dig up your Boy Scouts trophy from when you were twelve, i circle the pond; hellish hyena / wanderlusting girl with her prismatic lies.

now all i think about is last summer and a battlefield of raindrops and the pearly whites of eyes and you and you and you.

now it’s all wisps of memories floating away from us: sugar-coated skies, butter fingers & carnival lights, a silent unhinged melody played out by shaking felt-pen inked fingers, watching Buffy re-runs on your couch, tangled thighs & lip-syncing between the pressing heat of candlelight, memorising the soft chorus of your bumping heartbeat, retelling stories of all your muddy glory.

they say heartbreak tastes like black blood
& cough drops & 4 am air.

—  The Taste of Heartbreak // j.r

EDIT: We’ve kept the static exterior posted above, but just below the cut, the animated version is included to view the other wonderful features of the homes on the market now.

Our digital enchantment team has brought the animated life of Witch Weekly on joomag.com to our tumblr as well! Check out the advert for Accio Real Estate Firm: from country cottages, to hidden row houses, to unplottable housing tracts, they’ll find the home of your dreams for you!

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When you think of tract homes, you think of houses that look the same: the same color scheme, the same style; homes that form two uninteresting walls on either side of a suburban street. That might be the case today, but nearly 60 years ago — at a time when “real” architects wouldn’t touch tract homes — one architect did everything he could to break the monotony. His name is William Krisel, and he’s being honored by a place whose look he helped define — Palm Springs, Calif.

The minute you see Krisel’s homes, you’re taken back to another era. They have distinctive angled roofs, high windows and desert color schemes with pops of rich gold or vibrant blue. They also have lots of glass and elegantly simple lines, a signature of all the houses in the city’s Twin Palms tract neighborhood. One of those homes belongs to Heidi Creighton, and she knows just what she has. She says it’s “a Krisel-designed home, and it would be classified as a Model A-3 sunflap flat-roof tract house.”

Meet The Architect Who Helped Bring Modernism To The Masses

Photos: Darren Bradley/Courtesy of Darren Bradley

This Women’s History Month, the National Museum of Women in the Arts wants to know: Can you name five women artists? Learn more about their #5WomenArtists campaign, and follow the hashtag all month long. 


This image is part of Martha Rosler’s House Beautiful series, which combines clippings from the home decor magazine with images of the Vietnam War. 

 
[Martha Rosler. Tract House Soldier from the series House Beautiful: Bringing the War Home. c. 1967-72. The Museum of Modern Art, New York. © c. 1967-72 Martha Rosler]

Soft

When you were a kid, I’m sure this happened to you at least once: you were lost in a crowd, small and bewildered in a sea of giants. Suddenly, you saw your dad—relieved, you jogged to catch up to him and squeezed his hand. But when he turned around, a stranger’s face stared down at you instead. You spent a few seconds drenched in freezing panic before your real father ran over and hurried you away. You forgot about the stranger and that half-second of terror almost instantly.

Most kids forget, just like they forget the other minor horrors that make up childhood—the barking dogs, trips to the dentist, bikes crashing into bushes. I wish I could forget, and I wish that what happened to me when I was a kid was just a stupid thing I could laugh about. My girlfriend Sarah would tell me to not even write this, to let what’s in the past stay in the past. But I need to get this all down. I need to remember.

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anonymous asked:

What about the relationship between architectural style, climate, and practicality? Where I live in south-east Queensland, Australia, the architecture of traditional Queenslander houses is very different stylistically from "traditional" American houses, but they're beautiful and also designed well for the hot, humid climate, especially in a pre-airconditioning world. Many new tract houses seem imported from america, and totally unsuited to the climate, relying on air-conditioning. Thoughts?

What’s the same about Queenslander houses is also true of southern plantation houses in the United States- the porch was a big deal because you could be outside and still sheltered from the sweltering heat. Plantation houses also have tons of doors and windows so you could open them all up and get a cross breeze flowing through your house. Pretty efficient.

Super-Science Fiction, October 1959.

Cover by EMSH.

Ed Emshwiller (1925-900 was an illustrator whose work was ubiquitous in pulp science fiction magazines and paperbacks from the early 1950s to mid 1960s.

Surprisingly, he lived and worked in tract-housing suburb Levittown on Long Island–the polar opposite of the exotic, alien worlds he depicted on his canvases. He used his family and suburban neighbors as models for his otherworldly scenes.

In later life, he was a pioneer of digital animation.