“aide-memoire”

For years, I have told myself that I am not an architect, that I don’t belong in this profession. I’ve distanced myself from it, convincing myself that I don’t like the business, that I shouldn’t care too much about the work I do. But I never stopped to ask myself—why?

Through my MA in Intercultural Practices, I’ve started peeling back the layers of my thinking, uncovering answers I hadn’t confronted before. These answers may shift over time, but for now, they help me understand why I have always felt different, misplaced, or disconnected in this field.

It’s not that I reject architecture. It’s that I struggle with the way it is often practiced.

In this industry, the focus easily shifts toward budgets, regulations, client expectations, and efficiency. These are all necessary aspects of the profession. Architecture is, after all, a business, and in the business world, money matters. But what often gets lost in the process is the fundamental reason we build in the first place.

Buildings shape experiences.
Spaces hold memories.
Cities live with what we create for generations.

This is not an attempt at enlightenment—just an observation, a reminder to myself. It’s easy to forget why we do what we do, to get caught up in the race, and to compromise creativity and purpose for practicality and profit. But I don’t want to forget.

I am not walking away from architecture. Instead, I am choosing to stand still within it—to practice in a way that aligns with my thinking, my values, and my way of seeing the world.

I don’t have all the answers. I am simply finding my own balance in a profession where the focus often shifts toward everything but the essence of what we create.

And for me, that balance starts with remembering.