California at Larkin
You don’t need to be an objectum sexual or Ballardian protagonist to see the aesthetic sexuality inherent in some buildings. The way that line, mass, and shape converge into strangely provocative visual statements – totally hot. This, however, is not one of those buildings. Oh no, in keeping with my pretentious first sentence this is a Cronenbergian horror of the first order. There’s something off here. Something small and subtle that pricks at the subconscious. What could be causing this fairly generic example of post-earthquake architecture to feel so decidedly creepy and wrong?
