
This is a story about communication. The exchange of messages has always been a part of evolution. And the goal has always been to correctly determine their value and content. There have always been those who wanted to disrupt such communication for their own benefit, to block or falsify messages. This was, is, and certainly will not be limited to human existence. This is the story of communication within a community. And it is the story of communication among the people who participate in this community, among themselves and with others. And it is a story about communication with known communication partners in the here and now. And it is a story about communication with other communities, with guests who drop by as if by chance, and with communication partners whom one cannot possibly know, whose language one does not speak, and whose environment one cannot describe. Thus, it is also a story about communication across time and space. And then, of course, there is also forgetting.

When parents want to explain the world to their children, they resort to the means of communication. At first, we rely on scents and body language; later, facial expressions, speech, and eventually writing become essential. New forms are added: sound, music, photos, videos. Again and again, all the senses are engaged to receive the message, and then all cells are challenged to decode it. The bee, returning to the hive, advertises the new location where there is plenty of pollen to collect. The grandmother tells her daughter where the best mushrooms in the forest can be found. The hunter indicates it with a flicker of his eyes: Further to the left! The press release from one’s own government, the news from alternative media, the gossip at the bakery, the overturned trash can, the graffiti on the wall, the honking car—everywhere, communication is perceived and processed. And then, of course, there is also forgetting.

Modern societies are characterized by the fact that the effort required for decoding is increasing for each individual participant. It’s not just that the quantity of communication options is increasing, nor is it just that the demands on paying attention, listening, and being mindful of these pronouncements are also increasing. It’s becoming increasingly important to dedicate more processing time to decoding them. Beyond the question of the message’s content, further questions arise: Who sent this message? Who triggered this message? What are the aims of the trigger and the sender? What does it mean for me if I believe the message—without verifying it? What consequences would it have for me if this message were true? What was once known as the location of mushrooms in the forest is now becoming media competence. It’s essential for survival. And, as always, the man in the middle must not be neglected. A German chancellor once put it so aptly: “We cannot determine what happens. Our task is to determine what it means!” Communication is not value-free. Communication is propaganda, always. Even omission can lead to misuse: “The foreign national had pulled a knife… (in self-defense).” Repetition aids manipulation. And what exactly is a foreign national? In ancient Rome, a citizen was a free person who was allowed to carry weapons in public. And then, of course, there is also forgetting.

The act itself is a form of communication. Architecture creates reality. One must then submit to it, or tear the whole thing down. Extending an invitation and cooking dinner are forms of communication, as is having cooked oneself or inviting someone to a bar. As social beings, we are inclined toward all these forms of communication. It seems that we want to reassure ourselves of our own existence by communicating with others and then calculating our own value, our position, and our sense of purpose from their reactions. The baby in the stroller smiles at you. You smile back. Communication is contagious, and it’s a joy to dominate it. The baby smiles even more.
Whether the war was a beautiful one or a Gallic one, we don’t know. But the victor writes history, and if necessary, rewrites it. Then he often commissions a book. “Do good and talk about it,” a politician once said. But what is good, and for whom, and at what cost to others? And then, of course, there is also forgetting.

In our community, it’s noticeable that we rarely hold plenary sessions. Visitors find this strange. We don’t look for a formal framework to start a conversation. We’re always in dialogue anyway. Ants are always in dialogue, too. How should one imagine a plenary session among ants? Today is our plenary session. We have to participate. It’s about nonviolent communication. That’s important! Will you come along? It’s voluntary! We live sustainably, don’t shop at the supermarket, eat our homegrown vegetables, and don’t use pesticides or herbicides. We don’t fly. We travel by public bus or train. We are essentially self-sufficient. Saying or writing all of this is communication. But what does that mean? What is the value of this communication, based on the assumption of what the sender intends to achieve by describing and communicating all of this in this way? And then, of course, there is also forgetting.

We invite people to observe our coexistence in the community. Children learn by watching. They later experiment by imitating. Demonstrating doesn’t count. A child immediately recognizes whether an action is performed because the person acting is striving for the result and sees this action as meaningful in order to achieve the goal. If something is done simply to show that it can be done, it’s about power and the attempt to exert influence. That is the beginning of the end… of communication. The cave paintings in the area around Cervera del Maestre are written communication. They were addressed to the young hunters and served as a basis for planning strategy and hunting success. Today, one would use PowerPoint or a smartphone. When we visit these places today and marvel at how well-preserved the artifacts are, we establish a relationship that doesn’t arise objectively from the fact that we can recognize these drawings. We weren’t the intended audience. This communication wasn’t meant for us. We weren’t part of the observation. Sometimes we even assume communication where none exists. And then, of course, there is also forgetting.

The Americans were—perhaps—the first on the moon. They planted a flag. The Spanish had done the same in Central America centuries earlier. They aren’t exactly being praised for it. Will the same be true for the USA in the future? To interpret the planting of a nation’s flag as taking possession is interpretation. And interpretation is the subjective processing of information. And possession is not the same as ownership. Sometimes we communicate with ourselves or with avatars. We pick up a doll and explain our distress to it. We talk to the car and say: Please, start now! We send probes into space knowing that they will leave our own solar system. We attach tablets to these probes, with signs, symbols and graphs, organized in such a way that we believe they might be decipherable, allowing conclusions to be drawn about our existence and the origin of these probes. We choose gold as the material for these tablets. It is chemically inert. And it will last, perhaps. And then, of course, there is also forgetting.

My physics teacher was a fan of nuclear power, seeing it as the solution to all problems surrounding energy security and supply. I asked him: If we label the waste as harmful to humans, what do we write on the barrels we store in the salt dome for the next 1.5 million years? In 2027, we – as a community – will celebrate an anniversary. We will have been active in this village of Cervera del Maestre for 40 years. We have rebuilt houses there as well, we have created gardens, we have invited people to social events, and within our modest means, we have organized, funded, and fostered culture. With the La Osa Mayor project, we are building a symbol of humanity in community life. This is architecture, and therefore it is also communication. On the one hand, we communicate with each other within the community about this topic. On the other hand, we invite people to participate and create this place. On the one hand, we accept donations to carry out the project. On the other hand, we grant the usufruct of the La Osa Mayor patio to the community of people who live in this village and who visit it. And then, of course, there is also forgetting.

The most lasting and powerful form of communication is action. When I lay a stone, the message of the act becomes one with the act itself, and the laid stone is the lasting confirmation of that message. Children hear what their parents say and they watch what their parents do. In the end, what matters is what they do. Tomorrow’s children will visit La Osa Mayor. They will walk through a gate, see a garden, enjoy being together with others, and look at the walls with all their stones. They will wonder why this building exists, when and how it was built, by whom and with what intention, what message these builders had in mind. They will search the niches with their eyes, touch the stones of the facade, and ask the others in the patio. They may return and discover new things and clues. Some things may seem obvious, some unclear, some may remain hidden. And then, of course, there is also forgetting.

Some of these future visitors will feel the desire to have been there back then – during the construction. They will imagine what it must have been like for those who created this place, for future generations they couldn’t know, with whom they couldn’t communicate directly, and whom they couldn’t reward for building this patio. And there are those who read this article. They can still come to the Vineyard Road, to the mountain village in the Maestrazgo, to the land of the Celt-Iberians and all their descendants. They can lend a hand, help build and shape, become active, and communicate. And then, of course, there is also forgetting.






































































