If I were to arrive at a foreign country like Czech Republic, I don't have to speak Czech to understand the feeling of the local sensations through architecture. That is a kind of communication that no language can perform.

The dining room is a building; the bathroom is a building. If we scatter this single-program architecture inside of a domestic environment, we can link an interior urbanism in a way similar to a village or a township of tiny houses.

I think architecture could be understood as the construction of realities, or the construction of worlds. One of the reasons why architects are often attracted to philosophers, partially, has to do with making sense of the world around us as well as the making of worlds, and in our case, the realities we create can be as real as concrete. These kinds of ideas, of wild imagination, go into the question of how you make a world.

The moment you put something down on paper it forces you to organize and arrange these thoughts a little better.

The idea of morphology of languages is something that I'm really interested in. How does German turn to Dutch, and how does Dutch turn to Anglo-Saxon and eventually English? Morphology is actually taking place through things like Twitter or GChat today, where we're changing how things are spelled, and those spellings are accepted as standard now. Morphology happens over time. It's not necessarily a bad thing.

Every time I traveled to a new city, I would learn about local heroes I did not know about, and I would learn about their very impressive contribution to their cities.

The role of architecture, in terms of communication, is not going to drastically change either.