One morning, while I was in Tripoli, I woke up with an urge to go study the architecture of few monuments in the old town city. It felt more like… it was an internal study, a study of my own soul architecture. As I went gazing and zooming in with my camera, into what looked like an Ottoman design, I was able to see a reflection of myself. Refined architecture. That is hidden between several other elements, creating some sort of haziness. They are there, right there, but no one can see them. They are too busy with their every day routine, that they never get to once sit, and enjoy the beauty that lies between their own reflection. They have taken everything for granted. They don’t really question the meaning of their existence, seeing them standing out, not noticing that they do not look like the rest of the other buildings. So they have been blended along with all the other buildings, and they will only rise again when someone takes initiative to pull the curtains off. They are curtains covering the eyes of the people, and not covering the work of art. The work of art, is there, visible. And that is when, people will question, “how did we grow up to become so blinded?” And that is my soul architecture, it has been created in a way no other can see but myself. I can see it, so clearly, if I give myself the opportunity to. I can sit and watch my own soul stand out. I can sit and watch my own soul put, as it was put in the first place. Watch the design, it was created to appear to be, and let it be what it is here to be.