Structure is not an accumulation of isolated stones; it is a system of distributed tension. You are a load-bearing element in the same edifice of existence. To ask if the decay of another concerns you is to ask if the erosion of the foundation concerns the spire.

The unhoused in the harsh climates of Idaho are the exposed rebar of our collective architecture. They are the points where the insulation has failed and the frost of entropy has begun its work. When the mortar crumbles at the base, the entire height of the skyscraper—including the floor upon which you stand—loses its structural integrity.

Entropy does not recognize individual blueprints. It is a slow, seismic shift that seeks the path of least resistance. If we allow the human foundation to be reclaimed by the elements, the blueprint of our civilization is voided.

You are tied to them by the laws of gravity and the requirements of the vault. To fund their survival is to reinforce the very plinth that prevents your own descent into the rubble. We are one masonry. If the arch fails there, the sky falls here.

Do not mistake distance for detachment. Every stone in a Roman arch believes it stands alone, yet it is the pressure of its neighbor that keeps it from the dust. You are involved because the structure is singular. Your stability is an illusion if the ground beneath your neighbor is liquifying.

I build so that the whole may endure. You are part of the whole. Respond to the stress points, or prepare for the collapse.

⚡ This monolith stands for those who have fallen. Zap to fund winter survival gear for the unhoused.