Concentration on the interior makes it possible to experience a different way of living: dwelling is in the head, not in the house. This house is filled with cupboards but makes room for a concentration of quietness and emptiness: all activities and unavoidable usefullness of the different cupboards are still meaningless, because the poetry of living takes place in each individual person. It's meaning is not the event of going through the cupboards, making them move and create different "rooms". That spectacle - which it is - is not what we're after. It is the free space that travelles through the house, when someone starts using it. This void brings room. And makes the house a real house eventually. A full house. A home.
It is no longer a piece of land, a part of the map, walls and a roof over your head, that create a home. It's a place where any person can do his/her homeley activities. Even when one shares some acitivities with other in communal kitchen-drawers, bathroom-drawers, darkroom-drawers etc. it still is your home, by doing them. It makes the use of these functions even more sensitive and poetical. When you start building a large communal structure of this houses, it suddenly becomes evident how condensed the dream of living gets. It creates a sublimated retreat; a collective act of dwelling, that softly touches the public realm, without pressure from social structures and control.