Architecture and war are not incompatible. Architecture is war. War is architecture.
I am at war with my times, with history, with all authority that resides in fixed and frightened forms. I am one of millions who do not fit in, who have no home, no family, no doctrine, no form place to call my own, no known beginning or end, no sacred or primordial site.
I declare war on all icons and finalities, on all histories that would chain me with my own falseness, my own pitiful fears. I know only moments, and lifetimes that are as moments, and forms that appear with infinite strength, then melt into air.
I am an architect, a constructor of worlds, a sensualist who worships the darkening sky. I cannot know your name, nor can you know mine.
Tomorrow, we begin together the construction of a city
