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- As an architect, I spend a spend a great deal of time in an intentional non-verbal place of visualization, a place of imagined slippages of form, texture and color. When someone walks up to me while in one of these frequent reveries and just starts talking to me, I find that I'm more apt to watch the lips move and hear the sounds, but without meaning, just form. I remember this happening when I was a child and my parents would try to wake me up in the morning by talking to me and I couldn't understand what they were saying at all, so completely foreign, as though I was still dreaming. I argued with my father that I was thinking without words as much as I was without them, but he told me it wasn't possible. My mother would just smile.
