Monday, 30 January 2017

The Doors

So many excellent doors, let me show you them.

The morning door. (Education centre courtyard.) Zen enforcer. Only takes about 45 seconds to swing open. 

And then another 45 seconds to swing closed, during which time one must stand there to make sure wanderers don't wander inside and get trapped in the courtyard until opening time.

Auditorium with peace cranes

WWII room - far pleasanter than it sounds

You have to lean on this with your shoulder to make it open. I could tell you what's inside but I'm not going to.

I have no idea what's behind that door on the landing down there, and I don't want to know. Better to imagine. I have worked up an appropriately lurid fantasy about what's in there which I had best keep to myself. I think of it as my emergency door, like emergency rations. If things ever get really dire I can ask someone who's got keys to let me in there.

This one is almost a better-looking door in some ways, it's in a weirder stairwell and it's also got a strange step up at the bottom. But someone told me what's in there before I could stop her. It's a flag cupboard :( although there are no flagpoles anywhere near this part of the building so maybe "flag cupboard" is code for something?

North door. Bronze. Genuinely great despite iffy crown and anchor emblem.

North door, open for the day, rain or shine or howling wind - looking out. 

If I had a dollar for every time a child has asked me why we keep plants in here, I'd have about four dollars ($4 derived specifically from that source. I have other dollars.)

This is bronze also. In 18th century gothic novels there is always a massy key which opens a dungeon or a hidden subterranean passage. This door isn't subterranean, it's on the balcony and it leads to... the second balcony. The key is certainly massy and it is also jealously guarded. I did get to go through this door last winter and god, it all exceeded my wildest expectations, including the pants-soilingly frightening experience of climbing, in my down parka and smooth and slippery leather-soled boots, up a ladder installed in Monash's time, and sticking my terrified head out of a hole at the very top. When the zombie apocalypse comes I'm going to bloody well get that key and go up here. Haven't figured out what to do about food yet though.

Visitor centre courtyard entrance from ground level, ie above. See the bird there? He's a currajong and he lives here in this doorway, and has done for about a year. Someone caught and caged him at one point and was going to take him away, and someone else rang the council wildlife officer who came around and put a stop to that 

Another door where I could tell you what's behind it if I chose to, and I do.


The architects called it a 'circulation corridor' but I choose to use it for freaking out small children whose teachers have failed to freak them out sufficiently before they arrive. Dig the Get Smart vibe! if CONTROL headquarters had been built of Brunswick bricks instead of powder-coated steel.

Can you see the grooves in the grass? This is a door. It swings up like a gigantic camouflaged catflap. Special training is required to be allowed to open it. It is how the bins get put out on Tuesday nights.

1 comment:

elsewhere said...

Wow. The Shrine is appropriately tardis-like.