Writing here in the third person: in this reflective piece, I emphasize the importance of pausing to consider the motivations and beneficiaries of my efforts. By taking a moment to intentionally reflect, I aim to ensure my actions are aligned with my goals and values. This underscores a commitment to thoughtful, step-by-step progress rather than rushing forward without purpose. Or something like that.
In the summer of 1990, before starting architecture school, I watched the British documentary series "Architecture at the Crossroads," sparking a vocational and intense interest in this strange thing called architecture. This wasn't a burning emotional love, but rather an appreciation for a discipline I could bring into my world—a world of complex yet fascinating puzzles that influenced people's everyday lives.
The documentary portrayed architecture as a social endeavor, turning mundane built environments into compositions that spoke a physical language of form, repetition, pattern, materiality, and space. Particularly impactful was the episode on Japanese houses, with Hiroshi Hara's Awazu house standing out for its astonishingly literal and symmetrical design, vastly different from my suburban Australian upbringing, evoking a sense of open-ended possibility.