Nothing is certain – identity, order, structure; little truths dissolve in a nest of snakes. That is Dionysos’ gift (one of so many), the tangle of human complication – resulting in sweat, emotion, sex, fermentation, intoxication, everything that makes life worth something, and nothing that make it easy.
If by accident a blind person were an architect, what would this architecture look like, would it be different from the one we have – overwhelmed with the visual? We create the world according to our own notion about it, and this notion is defined by our perception of this world. Also, our perception is not objective, but is coloured by our ego, the mental and psychological construction ‘I’, which perceives. In this way architecture, like all other human activities, is not devoid of the chains of its own limitations due to prejudices, conventions and established habits. One of these great prejudices is, said in Nietzschean vocabulary, the Apollonian quality of architecture as a visual art of harmony, order and proportion.
 Ruby Sara: ‘Verse – Dionysos and the Word’, Devoted, Scarlet Imprint, 2008