Posteado por: Es Cau | junio 7, 2012


I am currently on a diploma course in sustainable architecture that is teaching me to establish the foundations and is also leading me to reflect on certain philosophies of everyday life.

The closeness of nature, its contemplation from a distance and my involvement in it from a standpoint of respect is something that has always interested me, so at a certain prescient moment in my life I decided to create a “sustainable” refuge for myself in an isolated spot that the web of civilization had not reached and, fortunately, has still not entirely breached.

Indeed, writing, dreaming, thinking and contemplating is much more viable and comforting there; the vista opens up before me in all its glory and the dark, transparent night encloses me within its palms until it fills me with the warm suspicion of a universe full of artful devices; the wind, sometimes finite and sometimes infinitely constant, gives me the feeling that we are living immersed in a liquid that we still need to learn how to float and swim in, and the relentless crashing of the waves positions me geographically and reminds me that I am a child of the coast, of transparent, pixelated seas, of barefoot footsteps sinking into the sandy shore, and the Mediterranean light that envelops you like a shawl.

There is nothing better than regarding movement from the quiet and restful pause of distance; it allows us to evaluate, from a perspective of common sense and sanity, the portents of the future and the deeds of the past.

This sustainable architecture full of photovoltaic and wind energy helps me to loosen the bonds and demands of our culture, to float and let myself be carried away, to evaluate from a distance and submit to my heart. Other cultures are beginning to interest me more, precisely because they are more introspective, more focused on man in terms of the universe of his existence.

Architecture has determined a great deal of my personal life, much more than my professional life, and now its formulas for survival are also leading me in the quest for a sustainable life. Sustainable in the sense of personal acceptance, of appraising goals achieved, unreached or still pending, of unravelling the tangle of mistakes and achievements that the daily routine ends up becoming, of reconciling the need for personal expression with marriage and children, discovering worlds that offer us better opportunities for personal realization or the chance to listen to the deliriums of our conscience when petrified by a premature farewell.

Just stop.

Stop and breathe.

Breathe and look at yourself.

Look at yourself from within.

The universe is inside us.

I suppose this is what maturity brings: a letting-go of the moorings of certain self-imposed demands and an increased focus on what really comforts you, not the conveniences of everyday life. Indeed, maturity is the fruit that is about to drop, the wisdom of one’s own self before departing, the discovery that those unspoken truths that you hold but don’t enjoy are for others or other cultures, part of their realities.

Opening your eyes leads you to silent contemplation, and the more I open them the closer I am to sustainability and the vernacular, that architecture which brings us closer to what we are and not what we want to be, thenceforth to grow with solutions that exalt us for our ability to complement the environment, without the absurd impositions of impertinent and destructive architecture that is nothing more than personal egos fighting against the more primary logic of common sense.

The same thing occurs with lives dragged along by the current; they are not sustainable in time, they lack common sense and we end up struggling to survive in a world of demands that we have imposed upon ourselves. This is society today, with its narrow outlook, cloistering its masses in a river of needs and detaching people from their ability to believe in themselves, to make their lives a sustainable and mind-enriching process.

In Tibet I discovered that the richness of its cultural spirit is perfectly reflected in its architecture, and both of them complement each other on a common path, where the creativity of spaces is generated by man’s inner need, and the end result is magnificent, vernacular and at the same time avant-garde architecture, when avant-garde means firstly considering the spirit and then the ego, and ends up generating its own unique aesthetic, an equilibrium that endures and is not subject to the comings and goings of fashions or trends.

Perhaps this isolation is the ultimate solution for self-exclusion and remaining true to oneself, for fleeing this globalization that drags down the individualities of every culture to a common pit and ends up turning them into caricatures, ignoring the hundreds of years that shaped their existence.

Maybe, just maybe, Tibet may end up being a door I have to open.

From behind comes the sky.



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