If I had my own house, I’d scribble on its walls. Perhaps the walls
will be made of glass backed by white paper so that I can paint and
draw on it, washing off old work and doodling on new work. Perhaps
they will be enormous whiteboards or blackboards set into the walls,
with colored markers or chalk everywhere. I want to surround myself
with ideas, mindmaps, little sketches, notes. I want a house that
changes every day, a house that lets me be creative.

(Got that insight after reading about the real use of white ceilings
as set out in
On_Lying_In_Bed.txt)