My brother, the architect, is lousy company for the first couple of minutes at a restaurant. As I’m commenting on menu items and beginning my complicated routine in picking something, his eyes are wondering everywhere. No, he’s not looking at women walking by, nor is he’s looking at food being placed on the table beside us (though I might be).
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Bites of Dallas: Finding my “Appetite for Architecture”
March 2, 2011
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