The Architect Who Built the Wind: An Epic of Memory and the Fourth Dimension of the Soul

Addressed to an architect who learned to begin everything with a line, the book asks who taught him to draw the emptiness that lives inside a human being, to measure longing or to place a door for escaping the past. It follows a trembling line on white paper that does not know it will become a wall sheltering a child's laughter and a man's old age, then space understood as the presence of what cannot be seen, a mother's voice in the kitchen and the smell of bread, and light that crosses a wall like a clock without hands. The house turns out to live inside us after it is demolished, the soul becomes another dimension, lived and never drawn, and the architect who knew how to read cracks in buildings finds no structural detail to repair the cracks within himself. Standing before fallen cities with no plan, he asks what deserves to be rebuilt, the walls or the relationships, and one day he stops drawing walls and draws an arrow for the direction of the wind, because architecture builds what happens between stones. At the end he draws a small house with a door, a window and a tree, writes that it is for himself, and the epilogue asks every architect never to forget the window.