Doors are specifically human, and I think they are great. Mostly, from
what I see, doors are meant to keep out unwelcome company, meaning
invaders with violence in mind. Doors are meant to keep out thieves,
people and rodents and such. But in the past few hundred years man has
honed a fine sense of privacy. It is recent. There were few doors in
most buildings past times. Look at buildings, and even today the average
office floor, and see that privacy is rare. It's for individuals, and
communalists don't often notice a lack of privacy. I do, and its one
reason I notice doors. But it's only one reason I notice them.
Doors keep out invaders and rodents and the cold, but they are also,
sometimes, works of fine craftsmanship. Doors are sometimes carved and
made beautiful by the labour of skilled artisans and thinkers and poets.
I'm in downtown Lima looking at churches all day these days, where
privacy is at a minimum, churches being communal spaces for the masses,
doors being mostly for the mysteries of priests and officials.
I see one door daily that I like in particular. It's so high that I
can't get a good picture of it standing across the narrow street. I'll
try to do better from a different angle soon, but for now, let's look at
a few details of this door.
It's not solid wood, being bolted together.
And it is old, having been patched over and over, as we see here.
The interior is worm-eaten. This is a 500 years old door, give or take. I think of it as a prize of humanness.