I imagine the city as a spiral of streets that double as arteries, each loop feeding into a central hub that’s both a market and a memory vault. The buildings lean at weird angles, like old ship hulls that have been repurposed as homes, and the rooftops are made of glass panels that refract light into shifting constellations. I keep a sketchpad on the floor and a stack of colored pencils so I can trace the veins of the city as it grows. When I build the model, I layer the streets in 3‑D, using thin cardboard for the roads and foam for the buildings, but I keep the whole thing wobbly—just enough to feel the tension of a world that’s always shifting. Try adding a bit of chaos—maybe a river that runs sideways—because even the best plans need a splash of unpredictability.