Once in a while it can be quite rewarding to feel dwarfed. By history, a life-hanging event, or maybe just the familiar spectacle of the sky on a starry night. It keeps your ego in check and makes all those self-absorbed, insignificant doubts and fears go away, so you can focus on more constructive things.

The architectural photography of New York-based artist Christoph Morlinghaus is the kind of majestically epic art that makes your petty problems disappear in an instant. His vast compositions that feature buildings, which will in all likelihood be here when you and I are gone, are a brutal yet reassuring reminder of the pointlessness of getting yourself all worked up over nothing. It puts you in your place. Moreover, in the hands of Morlinghaus, architecture is not sterile and monolithic but spins a narrative, which is somehow spirited and mysterious – perhaps even organically seductive. I mean, look at it. Don’t you just want to take your clothes off and run around his photos while pumping your fist and hollering like a randy viking? I know I do. In fact, that’s what I’m doing, right now, while typing this.