I live near a large office park. Most of the office buildings are drab eyesores architected according to a utilitarian aesthetic commonly associated with Stalinist Russia. Consider the building below, a temple to some colorless and infertile god of the post-industrial economy. How can creativity flourish in such a sterile, soulless place? Perhaps all the workers are menial clerks who need to be discouraged from introducing unwanted creativity into their ledgers and spreadsheets.
This building's green windows offer a faint improvement.
Only slightly better is this building with green windows and a few extraneous semicircles at the penthouse level.
Such buildings make one wish to flee to the sanctuary of mountain forests.