Megastructures and Desire

Megalophillia, or the attraction to Big Things, I treat it as a fascination with large objects that should inspire fear with their sheer scale. Megalophobia has been a popular topic for years, but I never quite found images of large things scary – Moreso titillating.

With some exceptions.

As I have a fear of heights/falling, the idea of being on top of these large objects makes me feel a combination of excitement and dread, and I prefer to play in the fantasy of being safe in these scenarios rather than endangered, Standing on firm ground, looking up with awe at a grand constructed monstrosity. There is a firmness about looking out my window at the apartment building across from me, staring at the blue windows reflecting the sky. Within this building are families, individuals, possibly a few pets, all wrapped up in a series of layers. Concrete, metal support beams, columns, pipes, wires, ventilation systems, air conditioning, insulation, fibres. This building specifically Is new. I watched it be constructed from my bedroom window, I remember traveling past the once-vacant lot it now occupies. Before it existed, there were individual homes that had been left to rot in overgrown fields. Now, it is alive, but like a young child it does not know who it is yet, it has not become a source of nostalgia or familiarity for the community. But one day it will be. One day it will be regarded as the first home for some person. They will drive along its road and look at it, maybe even nudge the passenger with them and say, “Look, I used to live there.” And reflect for a moment on the life that has been imprinted within it. A building is the sum of its parts, and the soul of every person that once resided in it.

My favourite constructions are bridges, looming skyscrapers created with rock, and white-painted metal buildings you frequently find at seashore towns.

Artistic recreation by me

For the latter, I find them curious, especially when their otherwise clean surfaces are marred with rust stains from years of sea and rainwater. They appear well-kept, but time passes anyway and leaves permanent marks.

I also love highways, great concrete ribbons that twist and intersect. Curiosity drives this interest, as you watch cars and trucks travel this way and that. Where are they going? Who are they taking? The highway has seen so many people come and go, no matter the time of day. As much as I fear driving (moreso, I fear crashing), I see the detail behind cars infrastructure, I often wonder how we could improve it, make it safer and move inviting, while still allowing people to travel far.

A large construction is built to last. They require so many materials, it would be laughable to expect it to come down after a year, they are anticipated to be around for at least a decade, maybe more, becoming part of the landscape and identity of the larger organism (the city). That is another aspect I enjoy of Megalophilia. It is how these objects are a physical representation of time. You remember the day construction began, when suddenly a fence or crane appeared down your street, or just off a road you frequently travel. You watch as the scaffolding comes up almost overnight, and how it slowly comes away, to reveal the bones of the new thing being born. When its done, it has been years, you remember who you were when it started, and know who you are when it is finished. And now, there will be people who will arrive and never know how the land looked before it existed. But you will. Your life has been landmarked by a physical thing, it is worth cherishing.

One of the few large objects I am intimidated by are mountains. These being organic, the relationship is different (similar to my affection for clouds and sunrises.) And perhaps influenced by the lack of Mountains near me. When I do visit mountains, climb them, or otherwise see footage of them, It grips me with a sense of fear. Unlike the buildings, who had human hands behind them, these beings were formed by powers far beyond ours, most thousands (if not millions) of years ago, and will continue to exist long after. No one alive remembers a time before them, and you are a small fragment of their life. They are beautiful.

Sentience in objects is complicated. within my own mind I understand them to be a thing that entirely exists at the behest of another, but that does not prevent them from carrying an energy that effects and manipulates the feelings or actions of what is around them. A building with a perfect perch for a bird to sit is both a decision made by the bird, and an offering provided by the building itself. Generally, I view larger objects as being neutral observers of the world around them, with a leisurely fondness towards those who pay them close attention. I have rarely encountered a building or construct that was openly hostile to my presence. I have experienced some backrooms-like occurrences, which came with the sense of “you don’t belong here,” but that felt more like the building or room preferring to be alone, rather than openly hostile.

Some constructions love the attention. They know they were created with an artists hand, and want to be observed and enjoyed, the excitement that comes from another means care will be taken of them. These objects require human touch to keep them alive, to clean and maintain them, and if no one desires it, they will not be cared for. One object I encountered who seemed to be delighted by the attention, was in Spain.

Setas de Sevile, Plaza de la Encarnación, photos taken by me

At the very least, I was quite taken by its shape (it appeared as if it was layers of cardboard slotted together, very cool to look at). Interesting forms such as these are always exciting, they break up the monotony of an area, and inspire its visitors.

While my friends might not understand my love for large constructs, they do understand the awe, and as this feeling is a private one, I am happy with that.