I spent two weeks last winter in Reykjavík testing a workstation that had no monitor, no bezel, and almost no patience for the habits I brought from flat software. The draft of this essay hung at shoulder height while notes drifted behind it like pale instruments, each surface bending a little at the edge.
A room is not a desktop
The old metaphor asked us to stack documents until the most urgent one hid everything else. In a volumetric room, urgency has distance: the build log can hover near the floor, the live interview can glow near the north wall, and the sentence you are refusing to cut can remain exactly where your hand left it.