The open-air spaces, soft colors, and diffused natural light at First Place Apartments in Phoenix and the Delores Project in Denver could transfer to almost any contemporary residential space. Their welcoming tones demonstrate a mass appeal. More important, though, those design elements also offer a lifeline to traumatized individuals trying to gain a foothold on life.

Like many other New Yorkers, I have spent more than three months holed up inside a tiny apartment. As much as I love my city, I can’t help but daydream about what it would be like to have my own home: specifically, my own historic home with plenty of period-specific details. That’s where the Cheap Old Houses Instagram account comes into the picture.

Like many other New Yorkers, I have spent more than three months holed up inside a tiny apartment. As much as I love my city, I can’t help but daydream about what it would be like to have my own home: specifically, my own historic home with plenty of period-specific details. That’s where the Cheap Old Houses Instagram account comes into the picture.

As much as Elizabeth Yuko loves her city, she can’t help but daydream about what it would be like to have her own home: specifically, her own historic home with plenty of period-specific details. That’s where the Cheap Old Houses Instagram account comes into the picture.

People are returning to work as Southern Nevada relaxes COVID-19 restrictions.

For the first time in modern civilization, much of the world’s populations were requested to stay at home and limit their contact with others. Requiring one’s home to satisfy each occupants’ work and recreational needs have likely affected their conceptualization of home. Has the home become a refuge to hide from the virus? Has it become a prison with the virus serving as the guard? Or, has the home become a haven where one can go about their life relatively unaffected?

FOR THE PAST month, I’ve woken up swaddled in butterfly bedding, feet dangling off the twin-size bed of my childhood. Blinking groggily at the furry furniture in the corner and magazine cutouts plastered on closet doors, I’ve fought the faint fear that perhaps I’m still in high school, the intervening six years merely an elaborate dream.

Not so long ago, when the world was still analog, architecture students came into college already having some experience building things. Previous generations took shop classes or tinkered in their parents’ garage. Today, students possess excellent computer skills, but they are less likely to have a tangible connection to the physical world, according to UNLV associate professor of architecture Eric Weber.