Although I have never been particularly religious, I have always dreamed of designing a religious center someday—preferably, a Christian church. Not only is it the religion closest to my culture and the faith of many of my family members, but it is also the building typology for which I have amassed the most references over years of studying architectural history and visiting dozens of churches of all kinds.

However, my passion for cathedrals lies in the thrill of designing a space whose sole purpose is to evoke emotions. I have always felt it would be a true gift for an artist to be commissioned to create something with no other objective than that: to be art, to convey something to the viewer. In architecture, this is quite rare. We always have to contend with practicality—the ultimate purpose of each construction—whether it's as mundane as providing a roof to sleep under, hosting pottery workshops, or displaying the latest fashion in a boutique. We are bound by the infamous "utilitas," but if a space's sole objective were to penetrate the hearts of the faithful, all design strategies and mechanisms could focus solely on the essential.

We would strip away everything unnecessary and achieve a genuine conceptual minimalism—not as a decorative style but through the elimination of anything that does not serve the purpose of conveying. The result would be space as art and art for art’s sake, free to exist only by contending with gravity, like the Pantheon in Rome.

So, while I wait for some neighborhood parish to take a chance on a young architect without ecclesiastical experience, I am content with shoehorning a vaulted space—an overt nod to the central nave of a Romanesque church—into a small restaurant renovation project. Here, the priest is replaced by the chef, and the baptismal font by a marble sink. I hope that patrons feel at least a bit awestruck when they step inside for the first time, and that before they even taste the first tapa, they already have reasons to return. Just as an agnostic might feel upon entering a Gothic cathedral, momentarily forgetting their purpose for being there, captivated by the grandeur and verticality of its naves.