I am finally home after my epic journey full of exciting research experiences, and realizing this sorry site needs a lot of updating.  How does one balance the doing and the telling? As you can see, I’m not so active on the self-promo side, but I’m committed to working on it!  Stay tuned…

Looking for info on Vuzik? Check out what little I have so far under “Academic Work.”

My trip consisted first of a 20 day visit to Tokyo, where I worked at the University of Electro-Communications to conduct a user study of my interface, Vuzik, with its co-creator, Dr. Junko Ichino.  During my stay, I presented my research to the Media Lab at UEC, Chofu, as well at the  Research Institute of Electrical Communication at
Tohoku University under the direction of Dr. Yoshifumi Kitamura, in Sendai.  A brief break week in Vancouver included research discussions with Dr. Nicolas d’Alessandro of the MAGIC Lab at University of British Columbia.  Last stop was the CNMAT Max/MSP Summer Workshop at the University of California at Berkeley where I probably doubled my chops  in and appreciation Max/MSP, the object-oriented audio-programming language I used to create Vuzik.

So many new epiphanies and rich experiences to synthesize and process, and so many great people I met along the way.

For those wondering, this photograph is from Xenakis and Le Corbusier’s Polytopes, a multidisciplinary experiment for 2 expos in the 1970s, combining music, architecture, and engineering.

• Arch
• Articulation
• Balance
• Colour
• Composition
• Contrast
• Density
• Depth
• Development
• Dynamics
• Energy
• Flow
• Form
• Foundation
• Function
• Genre
• Harmony
• Height
• Line
• Minimalism
• Motif or motive
• Movement
• Ornamentation
• Pattern
• Phrase
• Pitch
• Process
• Proportion
• Repetition
• Rhythm
• Sequence
• Shape
• Space
• Structure
• Style
• Symbol
• Texture
• Theme
• Transparency
• Unity
• Variation
• Volume

The NWC commission emphasized the creation of a Calgary or Alberta inspired piece. At the time the commission was announced to me, it was Summer 2008. News mentions of the Calgary Tower’s 40th birthday started percolating into ideas in my mind as I recalled older photographs of the Tower and how shocked I was to see how its urban surroundings had changed around it. The fast-forwarded image of the city core morphing, changing, growing, and rising around the stoic, immovable tower was an irresistible image in my head, and it gradually eased its way into my musical brainstorming as I searched for an inspirational spark to start my piece. It could work, but how to translate this visual phenomenon into an aural one?

In my typical plodding fashion, I explored a variety of ideas. Many times I was in danger of feeding the aesthetics to the concept lion, i.e. allowing faithfulness to the abstract concept to overrule aesthetic decisions. Typically this seems to happen when a piece of mine is inspired by something extra-musical, and some day I must devote some study into how to avoid this. In the end, I milked the Tower for drops of inspiration in efforts to overcome the horrible blankness that sometimes comes in that stage of creating something from nothing. Along with ponderings about the tower, I researched sounds I liked, listened to music that the musicians said they liked to play, and endeavored to learn more about the instruments I chose that are so unlike my own, the oboe, which were in this case nearly all except perhaps the saxophone.
I devoted more attention to form in this piece that I had in some previous pieces. Form to me seemed most closely linked with architecture in this case. Uniquely in this case, the architectural phenomenon of cityscape transformation had the added dimension of time and change that usually differentiates music and architecture. As I wanted to reflect the changing cityscape that surrounded the unchanging Tower, I chose a passacaglia structure for my form. Experts can’t even agree about the exact definition of a passacaglia and how it differs from similar forms like a chaconne, but the consensus among composers who wrote them seems to be that it involves a continuous theme being repeated while variations happen over top of it. Technically, Pachelbel’s Canon in D was one of these. So, to oversimplify my music translation, the Tower inspired a passacaglia theme that repeated over and over, while variations occurred surrounding it. The 63-second ride in the elevator to the top of the Tower inspired the length of the theme. This proved to be the most major concept-lion feeding, and a frustrating hole that I inadvertently trapped myself in as soon as I made that seemingly innocent decision. I was suddenly bound to make all variations fit neatly into 63 seconds, no matter how they developed. Also, for the passacaglia theme to be present but not dominating (as it would get rather boring hearing the same theme repeatedly ad nauseum…hmm, other musicians don’t do this, do they?), I made its rate of change fairly slow so that the more active variations have less competition. To stay true to the passacaglia concept, the theme had to remain essentially the same, at least in pace, notes, and rhythms. Its tempo was 60 beats to the quarter note, but I couldn’t have the variations always at that tempo or else they would always be slow, or the rhythms would get extremely complex to create the faster rate of change. The only solution I saw at the time was to have tempos that were easy multiples of 60, (quarter=120 so that the passacaglia theme could stay the same but the variation parts be legible and simple enough to read. This need for contrast between the two, and the restricted tempo conversion, seemed to inspire some pretty unrealistically fast passages in the variations, I admit. Despite feeling restricted, I thoroughly enjoyed trying to invent the variations with the challenge of harmonizing with a steady passacaglia theme, and thinking of gestures and material that was idiomatic to the performers’ instruments and tastes.

Towers and cities and elevator rides aside, the piece was eventually created as an aural experience independent from its program notes. I tried to push it from the concept nest and let it fly on its own, but listeners can be the judge of whether I achieved this. One triumph for me was hearing the pianist say that she assumed I was also a pianist when we were discussing how to play some of the more demanding parts. Truthfully I am a piano klutz and had always struggled to write piano pieces since it was often difficult for me to conceive of the interaction and capabilities of two independent hands, so I guess my research must have helped.

Composing a piece and then hearing it is terrifying and elating at the same time. You know all its weaknesses and imperfections, and if it is the first time you are hearing it there may be even more of them than you thought, but you can’t help but be amazed at how more glorious certain parts sound than you ever imagined in your head. And it’s like your child, and hearing it before you reminds you of all that you put into raising it.

You can listen to it here:

Thunder on Ice

When I first heard the Challenge, I wasn’t sure I’d enter it, let alone enter several themes or spend much time on it. I have a higher priority composition commission to complete by December for the Rubbing Stone Ensemble and New Works Calgary’s anniversary concert that I was preparing to tackle, and so didn’t think I’d have much time. Surprisingly, I found that writing an anthem for the general public was a great warm up exercise for my other piece. Not only is it throwing me back into the ups and downs of composing, but it has encouraged me to think critically and objectively about two valuable aspects of communication in music: what constitutes a good melody, and what universal qualities in a tune will reach a wide audience. I knew that the successful anthem would have to have a strong, catchy theme with universal appeal, one that is memorable and “hummable”. Also, it had to have a lot of energy and drive, with the ability to escalate excitement in the listener and grab their attention. My first attempt tried for both of these things. Of course, to win everyone over, its rendition and orchestration also needed to sound great too in order to win over the public (even though CBC will most likely re-arrange and record it with real instruments), and this was a difficulty for me not having the proper studio technology, nor the money to hire a brass and drum band. I still hear it as big, full brassy sounds and driving drums in my head, and hope that at least the tune comes across. Now, onto attempt two and three…

Imagine how much money and resources could be saved if homes took advantage of the free energy sources of sunlight, wind, and other natural phenomenon around them. Am I starting to sound eco-geeky? I recently watched a documentary entitled “Building with Awareness: The Construction of a Hybrid Home” that followed a home designer in the process of building his straw-bale adobe home in New Mexico, and thought it outlined some energy-smart and resourceful home design features that could be easy to incorporate in most homes. I should clarify that I do not support environmentalism and I believe that man, and his progress, is as natural and rightful as the other animals that inhabit Earth. But in our quest to gain greater and more intelligent control of our environment, and to live sustainably so as to flourish for a long time, I think it is logical to seek the most value for the least resources, energy and money. Here are a few home design ideas for energy efficiency and aesthetics that I gleaned from “Building with Awareness” which would be easy to incorporate in most homes but are not always used on today’s building scene.

Shrink It Down

• A concept that might be hard for some to swallow is building a home no larger than you really need, but incorporating design and aesthetic features that would fulfill the requirements for which extra square footage would otherwise be compensating. Obviously, a smaller house uses less heat, electricity and resources, so savings would be found there. Some ideas for making a smaller house more comfortable are the following:
  • To visually open up smaller spaces, the designer could direct the eye to the outdoors and ensure plenty of natural light through strategically placed windows on at least two sides of every room.
  • Two spaces, each too small on their own, can be softly divided by a short wall so that the overall area feels bigger.
  • In order to define two distinct living areas in one space, part of the floor in one section could be raised or lowered, a technique often found in Japanese design. The raised part also provides a valuable storage area underneath the floor.

Passive Heating and Cooling

• The documentary said that more than half the heating needs of the home they built could be supplied by the sun alone. Being cognizant of where and when sunlight covers a house in designing and orienting the house can make a huge difference to the heating and cooling of the house without the help of natural gas, electricity, or air conditioning. Though the use of passive solar systems usually does not meant that mechanical methods of heating and cooling are completely eliminated, it will mean that the size or energy usage of the traditional mechanical method will be reduced.
  • Ensuring the majority of the windows face South will allow the most sunlight into the home, especially in winter months. Conversely, North facing windows will only serve to drain the home of heat in cold weather, so windows on that side should be kept small and to minimal, only what is necessary for natural light and cross ventilation. Another option is to have the roof slope downward from the South side to the North side, to eliminate the size of the North wall and thus heat loss, and promote heat gain on the South side.
  • Darker and more massive walls and floors will convert light energy to heat energy. This material is called Thermal Mass, and this process is referred to as Direct Gain. Adobe walls and concrete floors are especially suited to this. Heavy materials such like these will slowly warm up and absorb heat all day long and release it at night. An advancement on this system is to incorporate convention with the thermal mass storage where the sunlight heats a thermal storage wall which heats a confined space full of air, which then is circulated into the adjacent room. Alternatively, the sunlight could heat a liquid such as water in pipes, which will then circulate and distribute its heat throughout the home. See this good link about Passive Solar Heating and Cooling.
  • Thermal mass works in favor of cooling the house as well. In summer, opening windows at night will cool down the thermal mass. In morning, the windows are shut to keep out the heat of the day. The thermal mass will absorb excess heat during the day.
  • Any glass in the West and East sides of the home will allow the late afternoon summer sun to overheat the inside of the house, so windows should be kept to a minimum here unless the wall could be shaded by some means.
  • Two openings on opposite ends of the ceiling create cross-ventilation to eliminate trapped heat.
  • Place rooms to which heat isn’t as important on the North side like storage areas, utility room, etc.
  • One of my favorite design features is the roof overhang. In winter, the sunlight comes in at an acute angle, just below the overhang of the roof, which will assist in heating the house. In summer, the overhang blocks direct sun from entering the house, thereby keeping the house cooler.

Miscellaneous other design features:

• Radiant heating is one of the more efficient methods of heating because it puts the heat where you want it, at the floor. Forced air tends to sent heat to the ceiling right away.
• Situating rooms or appliances that use hot water close together will ensure a short distance for hot water to travel and thus less heat lost. For example, the mechanical room with the hot water tank/in floor heating tanks could be placed directly adjacent to the bathroom and kitchen sink.
• Rain water could be collected from the roof to meet some or all of the home’s water needs. The documentary suggests a metal roof because it is durable and won’t contaminate the rain water collected like asphalt shingles would.
• As windows play an important role in passive heating and cooling, choosing the right windows which have a higher or even positive energy rating is essential. Likewise with the insulation of the outside walls and roof.

Here’s a thought I had, and maybe someone could tell me if it would work. Could outdoor mirrors be situated outside and angled to reflect sunlight onto sides of the house that would usually receive less, like those tanning mirrors? They could be covered up in summer.

There are so many possibilities for resource-smart design that most are probably yet to be invented.

Photo source: The Laetz House in Michigan http://www.urbanoptions.org/RenewableEnergy/SolarSpaceHeatingPassive.htm

Crow Epistemology is a term coined by Ayn Rand in Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology that refers to the principle that human beings can only deal perceptually with five or six units simultaneously. The “Crow” label refers to a a psychological experiment where two people went into the woods, and the crows would go into hiding until both people came out, even one at a time. If three people went into the woods, the crows would wait in hiding until three people came out. If five people went into the woods, however, the crows would mistakenly come out of hiding when only four people came of the woods, because the number of individual units they can identify has been exceeded.

Humans are the same way, but we create concepts to deal with a group of units too large in number for our brains to grasp individually. If we see two pine trees and a maple tree, we can identify them as such, but if we see 30 oak trees, 500 pine trees, 10 maple trees, and 200 larches, we would identify it as a forest. In other words, we can integrate an unlimited number of units into one easily manageable unit, whereby we actually expand our range of consciousness beyond the crow.

What does this have to do with music?

A piece of music sounding for a listener may contain an almost unlimited number of elements: multiple instruments, many simultaneous pitches, many motives and themes that come and go, many layers of “melodies” or important lines weaving in and out of each other. Of all those elements, what the listener actually perceives and can integrate is quite a different matter. In remembering the crow, and the human mind’s need to reduce many individual units into a minimal number of concepts, we can understand that the listener may only perceive and grasp a relatively small number of elements out of the many elements in the piece of music. This would mean that possibly much of the composer’s carefully chosen and slaved-over creation could be lost! You may ask as I did why the listener could not integrate the many individual elements into a few graspable concepts while they are listening, and so far I have concluded that it is the lapse of time that frustrates this process in the case of music. Unlike a painting where all items are there simultaneously and will not disappear, musical elements exist over a set period of time -they come and go. Especially dependent on the listener’s musical training and aural memory, he may only be conscious of the current moment in music, and possibly, but more limitedly, what just happened before this moment and some recollection of past moments if they reoccur again to jog their memory. This phenomenon is at its worst when musical communication is probably its most crucial: when a listener only hears the unfamiliar piece of music once, for the first time.

How does the composer salvage all the hard work he put into those many elements and ensure they aren’t lost on the listener? How does he convey the complex emotions and ideas he set out to communicate and avoid dumbing down his creation to only a few elements just so the crow can grasp it all?

In short, the extent to which the composer pre-integrates all the elements of a musical piece for the average listener is the extent to which that listener will grasp all the elements on the first and only listening. The composer needs to group all those many elements into fewer easily graspable packages; she needs to connect similar things, make contrasting things seem obviously different, emphasize relationships and logically bridge one moment to the next. I would say that the composer needs to simplify the elements, except that you are not necessarily removing anything, and that this kind of simplification implies the most complex integration process on the part of the composer. In terms of what this would literally mean in a piece of art music, I can think of some specific techniques off the top of my head or principles to keep in mind:

• Repeating a key motive or melody in a prominent way several times will ensure it is remembered and isolated as an integrated, important “package.”, The reason being is that, firstly, frequency in a work of art usually equals importance, and the amount of time spent on something in a piece of music also does the same.
• Timbre can be the tone color of one register of an instrument, one instrument in its entire range, or a combination of more than one instrument. It contributes to the emotional quality of the line that the instrument (s) is playing, and thus can be used to represent a certain emotion or help reinforce prominence in a key motive or melody. Isolating particular timbres as being significant and having them reocurr in key places help the listener more easily identify them and perceive them as important.
• The number of different active lines, or melodies, that a listener can perceive simultaneously is probably even more limited than the crow’s perception of physical objects. It is probably limited to two on the first listening, maybe three or four on repeated listenings or if the listener is musically educated. Too many simultaneous melodies or active lines has a way of collapsing into just an overall harmonic progression, or, more often, a texture. If these melodies are all significant, the composer needs to remember they will not be perceived as such if too many other significant or active lines are happening at the same time.

I’ll stop there for now since further ideas might require a more complete treatise on how to compose, which I’m not prepared to write. I will mention, though, a possibly unexpected musical example which I think does a masterful job of integrating many musical elements into crow-sized bites. I actually developed the motivation to think further on Crow Epistemology and music when I was listening to Igor Stravinsky’s Le Sacre du Printemps, or The Rite of Spring, on the radio. Whatever one may say about the sense of life of the piece, it very expertly presents many very complex, shockingly unusual elements, possibly quite unlike others we might be familiar with, in such a way that the average listener can follow the basic form of the piece and recognize important moments. To the average listener, and thinking back to when I first heard the piece before I had any musical education, the piece sounds very modern, very dissonant, very avant garde. It was surprising for me, and perhaps for others, to learn that this piece was composed in 1913; this was only 20 years after Tchaikovsky wrote The Nutcracker, Suite, 15 years before Ravel’s Bolero and 27 years before Rachmaninoff wrote his Symphonic Dances. But it had sounded to me more like music of the 1980s in terms of its tonality and unusual melodies. Now, having studied music history, and music composition, I can see how it actually employs the ancient integration techniques that helped music of the Romantic, Baroque, and Classical eras be so accessible to the average listener compared to much of the more modern music since 1950 or so. Again off the top of my head, some of the ways I noticed that Stravinsky integrates his material is the following:

• He repeats important motives or themes, and presents them without too many other competing active lines playing simultaneously.
• He uses certain unique timbres in key spots, usually tied to a certain melody, like a painter carefully only using the color red in key significant spots. For example, his use of the high E-flat Clarinet parallel in 2 or 3 octaves with the low Alto Flute on a very contrastingly serene melody makes a very unique, open and haunting sound. When he plays this melody with this timbre again, we remember it right away even though we had only heard it once, and recognize this return as significant.
• Though his melodies at first seem complex and intricate, they are integrated by being composed of little cells of the same material. The opening of the work does this, where the high bassoon line presents a melody, and cells or pieces of this melody are then repeated in varied form, but always keeping the same basic “shape.” Think of a crystal that is composed of mini versions of itself. I think this technique, and other applications of this principle elsewhere in music, has strong ties to the principles of organic architecture, which will definitely be a topic of study and discussion for me later on.

Further study of the piece will reveal much more and would clarify some of these points, so I will stop there until I have that chance. There are many other, perhaps better examples of musical pieces that feature masterful integration of many complex elements, but I specifically was inspired by this one because a) its successful integration actually allows our brains to accept and understand these shockingly different and new elements he presents where we might otherwise be utterly confused, and b) it seems to have the dissonance, outrageous extremes, and fresh outlook than many modern-day composers are trying to achieve, but the difference is that Stravinsky integrated all the elements into graspable packages whereas many avant garde composers today do not.

An aside: Another interesting related topic that will no doubt bring me to the keyboard again in the future is how minding the Crow Epistemology relates to architecture. How many visual elements can be recognized by the viewer and how does the architect integrate them all to ensure they will be? “Theme and Variation” in architecture (not sure what the architectural design term for it is – can anyone help?) will most certainly have a place in this discussion.

So, in my quest for clearer compositions where all the essential elements are perceived by the listener, I am going to strive in my music not to forget the crow, lest he forget me.

[A Disclaimer to my composer and philosopher comrades: I admit that not all my ideas or concepts here are fully formed, but this blog is my pensieve of thoughts that I will be continually examining and verifying in my lifelong study of music, architecture, and creativity.]

“Improvisation, composition, writing, painting, theater, invention, all creative acts are forms of play, the starting place of creativity in the human growth cycle, and one of the great primal life functions. Without play, learning and evolution are impossible. Play is the taproot from which original art springs; it is the raw stuff that the artist channels and organizes with all his learning and technique. Technique itself springs from play, because we can acquire technique only by the practice of practice, by persistently experimenting and playing with our tools and testing their limits and resistances. Creative work is play; it is free speculation using the materials of one’s chosen form. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves. Artists play with color and space. Musicians play with sound and silence. Eros plays with lovers. Gods play with the universe. Children play with everything they can get their hands on.”

I have always felt that play is closely tied with creation. To give birth to a concept, art work, or invention that has never been before, to essentially reinvent the world, takes a kind of unobstructed exploration of ideas and a freedom in your thinking and experiments that is the mastered realm of the fearless child. This seems especially true in the first stage of creation, when you are starting with “nothing” and taking that first step into “something.” Many people may know this stage in more formal settings as “brainstorming,” where you ideally let loose a wide, uncurtailed range of ideas and allow them to freely flow from one to the next, and at this point treat them all as equally valid. Again ideally, you will not censor or judge yourself here, but let even the wild, seemingly impossible, or ridiculous be considered. This is where you are generating for yourself the raw materials from which you construct your creation, and the more exploratory and plentiful they are, the more options and choices you have and more the possibilities that you may discover something excitingly innovative. Only once you have milked this stage for all the value you can glean from it are you ready to undergo the essential creative process of selection.

Children let their ideas and explorations flow uninhibited, unashamed, and un-self-consciously. As they grow older, they are impressed upon with many messages about what is not allowed, what is practical, what is comfortable, what is accepted, and they may start to censor themselves as soon as ideas arise in their heads. They become more aware of how their play might be ridiculed by others and may either try to hide it, or adopt those ridiculing voices inside their own heads and snuff out that exploratory spirit. If adults can keep that spirit of play alive and untainted past their childhood, I think we would find that we would have no boundaries for what we can accomplish. We would dare to look at ideas and ourselves in new ways to discover their truths, try new things never done before to seek better methods, question everything, and embrace innovation. There would be less of a focus on what is accepted or conventional and how we can fit into it, and more of a focus on seeking to find what is true, right, beautiful, different, new, better.

I thought I would start with a topic a little more “close to home.” In January of 2006 I couldn’t resist purchasing the unique, striking geodesic dome home pictured above. Since I was young I was fascinated by geodesic domes, and when our real estate agent took us to this “golf ball home” as a joke, I felt like this was the chance I had been waiting for. After seeing box house after boring box house, this one was like a breath of fresh air. I was willing to overlook some of its dilapidation in favor of the open lofty space inside and the bright skylights.

This “Buckyball” shaped home was built in 1971, which would likely place it as too early to have been built with one of the geodesic dome kits you can easily order nowadays. The builder/owner was evidently somewhat an amateur and appeared to have built it crudely from scratch, though with some innovative features. It is a 1070 square foot bi-level split with no basement, featuring 2 bathrooms, 2 bedrooms, and one small office room. The upper level is an open area that includes a small kitchen and living area, with a closed off bathroom/laundry room. The lower level is smaller than the upper due to the high profile shape of the dome, and the 3 rooms and bathroom are rather aesthetically arranged surrounding and opening into a hexagon-shaped “hallway” in the center of the level. Most windows are custom hexagon shapes, and all cabinetry is custom made to conform to the multitude of angles in the walls.

I continue to wonder, as I did before I bought this house, why dome homes are not more common. Given the number of “tourists” slowly driving by our house and taking photographs, and the occasional dome-featuring article in print media, and the sustainable building movement, I would think there would be a small but devoted niche market. For those unfamiliar with the proposed benefits of dome homes, here are some of the common ones:

• The rounded interior space promotes convection of heat and therefore better heating distribution efficiency than conventional homes that have many right-angled ceiling corners to trap heat.
• Less building material is needed per square foot of living space.
• The exterior skeleton structure is self supporting, meaning that interior walls are not necessary for structural support and so a wide variety of floor plans are possible.
• The shape minimizes wind drag and the structure of the skeleton, normally composed of triangles, is very strong, so it can withstand more abuse from the elements without sustaining damage. This has been proven in areas devastated by storms and heavy winds, such as the Katrina-torn New Orleans. http://www.monolithic.com/domenews/2005/katrina.html http://www.metrotimes.com/editorial/story.asp?id=8200

I recognize that in spite of these benefits, many people prefer their home to be indistinguishable from their neighbor’s or would feel more comfortable in a home shape to which they are more accustomed and would thus not choose a dome for purely aesthetic reasons. This aside, there are many valid difficulties in building and living in a dome home that largely stem from its uniqueness. Some of the challenges I perceive that must be, and can relatively easily be, overcome are listed here:

• Square or rectangular furniture cannot be placed in a dome space in a conventional way, such as pushing them against the exterior wall, due to the angles of the walls. The decorator will need to be creative in furniture arrangement, and some elements may need to be custom made. Some dome builders have minimized the difficulty of walls that slope inward by having the dome structure sit on erect walls. See the first dome featured on the Natural Spaces Domes homepage at http://www.naturalspacesdomes.com
• To ensure the home is sealed against water and drafts, the designer and builder needs to treat the entire exterior like it is a roof, not sides and a roof. The entire outer surface will be exposed to rain and snow in the same intensity as the average roof. Thus, all windows must be raised and sealed in the same way skylights are in conventional homes, so water is channeled around the window. Roofing material must be applied to the entire dome, unless a type of overhang is sheltering a part of the lower half.
• I have never built a dome, but my interpolation of that process is that it may be difficult to get the right lengths and types of building materials. Lumber is cut in standard shapes and sizes for box homes, which means that if it is to be used for a dome home it will need to be custom cut. Windows of a design that is integrated with the dome home will likely have to be custom ordered as well. Perhaps an even greater challenge will be finding a contractor capable and willing to build an unconventional home, but many dome home owners self-contract their homes. Dome home kit companies today design their kits to try to alleviate these challenges, and some of the bigger ones sell specialized materials for their kits.

I’ll conclude this discussion on dome homes here but will undoubtedly touch on it again. Though I believe there are many possible new and better home designs than the cookie-cutter milk carton shapes so prevalent everywhere, the dome home is a beautiful and easily accessible design that is here now and waiting for those adventurous and discriminating enough to think outside the box.