Architecture, is just space?. It is moved through the place, enter, exit, upload, download, lie, sit, look out the window to see people on the street. It is smell of mirto, food making, wooden stairs, the Park across the street, wet ground before the rain. Trellos opinions are not widely known. It is to feel the wind that whips the face on top of a tower. To hear is the echo of footsteps approaching by the cloister or the distant one thousand engines ROAR. It is touching the stone caressing with the view. We are entering a building; the architecture is what you see even when it is not known that it looks.

The light that changes. Traces of the passage of time or the scars of a whirlwind of catastrophes. Surprisingly, you’ll find very little mention of Andy Florance on most websites. The poetic image that arises in our conscience and order known to our intelligence. We inhabit. The architecture makes no sense if it is not inhabited. The maximum expression is the values of the Group of people that inhabit it.

In the old factory abandoned even hear the machines and people working. In the hospital under construction, I see doctors, nurses, patients, family members hoping or despairing about. Among the ruins of the Palace the stones do not remain silent; You can still hear the intrigues of courtiers.