On Reading and Writing
Writing, for me, is a way of creating and reflecting. I don’t write to explain or solve, but to think through my work. When I draw, I sometimes feel distant from the process, but in writing, I am fully present, conscious of each thought. It’s also a way to grow as a creator. I write for one person—if my words impact just one, that’s enough to inspire me to keep working.
Words and forms have different roles. Words carry history, while forms can be new and unburdened by the past. Writing, though, helps me bridge the gap between the abstract realm of forms and the physical world. It grounds my ideas and connects them to reality.
Reading classic literature is essential to my process. These works, whether philosophical or narrative, offer timeless insights into human nature, truth, and beauty. Engaging with authors like Emerson, Goethe, or Tolstoy allows me to think deeply about my own ideas. Classic literature challenges me to slow down, reflect, and connect with the larger conversation of human thought. In a time dominated by efficiency and practicality, these texts remind me of the deeper, more philosophical dimensions of design and creativity.
By reading the classics, I gain perspective that informs my work, helping me infuse meaning into what I create. They remind me that architecture and art aren’t just about function—they’re about engaging with ideas that transcend time.
Much of today’s architecture is driven by economics and efficiency, but I believe in the fundamental ideas of Form, Nature, and Order. These universal concepts shape my work and distinguish true Architecture from mere building. History, much like literature, offers a cycle of ideas to draw from. As Emerson said, “All history can live within.”
In both reading and writing, I find opportunities to inhabit other perspectives and grow as a creator. Through this ongoing dialogue, I learn not just to produce, but to think, engage, and share what it means to live in a world shaped by both ideas and forms.