This is the story of Mnemosyne, the story of a ritual, the story of an oracle, and the story of a building in Cervera del Maestre, La Osa Mayor, the backyard of humanity. Above all, it is the story of people. It is the story of building, of living, of civic life in a society constantly threatened by violence and war, a story of remaining human in times of inhumanity.

Memory is nourished by the assertions of the senses and of people. Like it’s descendants morality and ethics, it should be constantly and fundamentally questioned.

As with every story, there is a story before the story. It is the story of the people who lived before on the street Las Parras in the mountain village of Cervera del Maestre. They built the houses, maintained them, used them. They bore children and worked to feed their families. In their free time, they played bowling, sometimes, somehow. Rare were the moments when the beauty of this simplicity was documented. Memory begins when one perceives the moment and becomes aware of its beauty.

At the beginning of April, we invited people again to join the project of LOM. They came and helped to secure the building’s facade and decorate the backyard of humanity with a portal. For this purpose, 42 mosaics were created. Fired clay tiles form the base of these small mosaics.

As the old house structure crumbled, a large pile of rubble, building materials, waste, and earth accumulated. Wooden doors, beams, and other organic material decomposed over the years. This debris was systematically removed. Waste was sorted, and recyclables such as metal and glass were separated (and later recycled). Many building materials were also found in the debris. Almost the entire facade of La Osa Mayor consists of clay tiles that previously formed the walls and ceilings of the house. Now they are part of the facade.

As a social art project, La Osa Mayor is always a magnet for people. They want to reorient themselves, explore different value systems and simply enjoy the little things in life. Experiencing personal happiness in community environments is more intense. This is part of the project in the open garden of La Osa Mayor as it is as well in our living community. And it’s only natural that this feeling arises during the creative process itself.

An open art project brings together people from different hemispheres of the world. The shared desire to work on a large, collaborative project builds bridges and breaks down language barriers. Understanding the materials is incredibly helpful in grasping the moment and its meaning.

From the outset, one goal of this project was to create space for people. This includes the space for spending time in the patio. But it also encompasses the spaces in the niches and corners, the platforms and chambers, that will be available to visitors. How often do people stand in the streets of the town, looking at the facades and wondering what the interiors of these buildings look like? La Osa Mayor will foster this desire to connect with the place where one is. There should always be something new to discover.

La Osa Mayor lies on the road of the vineyards. In the past, wine was also fermented in large, bulbous bottles. Many farmers had a few vines at the edge of their fields. Grapes were dried into raisins or placed in these glass containers.

Forgetting is the prerequisite for remembering.

The green bottle on the facade is a reminder of this tradition. In the mornings and evenings, it captures the sunlight and casts a soft glow inside one of the numerous chambers.

Almost twenty years ago, we opened the gallery in CASAdelDRAGON. Visitors saw many works by contemporary artists from all over the world in rotating exhibitions. While some guests inquired about the stories behind the artworks, the true art lovers—and potential buyers—were rather quiet and didn’t want to know much about the pieces themselves. They found resonance in contemplating the art with their own personal stories. These stories had long resided within them, and the artwork brought them to the surface anew. We want to approach this particular stone in the same way. It has its own story, and that story is far more than just our own. It’s the potential for all the stories of the viewers. Here, too, it’s important to leave space, space for the stories of others.

Construction site logistics is a recurring challenge. On the one hand, the workspace must not be cluttered with materials, while on the other hand, the distance to the installation site should be short. Furthermore, delivery, preparation, and final use as building material must be constantly coordinated. Often, only a very small number of people work on the construction site each week from Monday to Friday. In such cases, it’s crucial that all materials have been stacked as high as possible for easy access. This is another reason why every space in the facade is frequently used as temporary storage.

Those who bomb girls’ schools or student dormitories, or who tacitly condone bombing, shouldn’t be surprised that a “lost generation” feels “lost.” How can one find their way in a world that is currently disintegrating and populated by people who are driving, supporting, accepting, or ignoring this deconstruction? Where is the support, the courage to gain clarity about one’s abilities and goals? When Dilan secures the scaffolding on the facade, it’s informal learning. But it’s much more than that. It’s the beginning of self-empowerment, of securing and developing one’s living space. In the photograph, it’s just a moment. But it’s history, connected to this building, for a long time to come.

Human development is linked to the desire to expand one’s senses and physical capabilities. The search for, construction of, and use of tools has always been an expression of the will to create. In the creative process, the visible result is what ultimately remains. The tools disappear from the scene of the action, and thus the question arises: How could this have been built like that?

The facade underscores the significance of this place. Only people themselves can celebrate humanity. And they cannot be forced to do so. It is a free, perhaps spontaneous act. And it is certainly an act that will continually reinvent itself and its expression in the times to come.

If we are to make ourselves equal to others, we should probably start with forgetting.

Just as the dragon of CASAdelDRAGON gazes northward over the oranges and the power of water in the earth as an allegory, so this facade welcomes the visitor and draws their attention to the fact that something significant is possible if the visitor is ready for it. The height suggests the magnitude of the moment.

Every Saturday morning we erected the scaffolding, which is four meters high and three meters wide. And every Saturday or Sunday evening we dismantled it again so as not to block the street during the week. After the first mosaics were in place, we found it challenging to have to wait another week before we could gain again height to continue the work.

This week we spent more time working on the inner part of the facade, salvaging building materials from the rubble and preparing them for the coming weekend. It’s truly a very satisfying and peaceful task to be able to build such a Gothic arch in such a place.

Repression imprisons, forgetting liberates.

And it’s a great privilege to be able to use such old building materials. Stones that were once part of the Cervera del Maestre castle complex found their way into the Osa Mayor building, and a few hundred years later they were lost in the rubble of the ruins. Now they are returning to the light of day, gleaming in the morning sun. An old cycle is ending, a new one is beginning.

The statics of a stone arch depend on the keystone. It connects the two sides and distributes the forces evenly. When the roof truss of a house is completed, it’s a cause for celebration. We always celebrated when we could lay one of these keystones. The Japanese loquat in the patio La Osa Mayor looks on, hinting at the beauty of this project when the plants and animals will populate the backyard.

Francesca is painting the old wooden beams. They came from a demolition on the same street. The 250-year-old beams were given to us just when we needed a technical solution for connecting the facade above the balcony exit. The beams are extremely strong. Woodworm has no chance in the hard heartwood. The coat of oil protects the wood from moisture penetration.

Days earlier, we had built a support for the beams. This support also consists of clay tiles salvaged from the ruin’s rubble. The interior was filled with “Roman concrete” to distribute the load evenly across the surface.

Our neighbors had told us about an old woman who often went out onto her balcony to watch the children playing in the street. The lintel above the balcony had collapsed. We had endured this wound in the facade for a long time, and it was a great joy to restore this connection.

Every small construction phase requires a solid technical solution for the facade’s structural integrity. But every small phase also offers the chance for a new and interesting detail, another sign of appreciation for the project, a gift to the village, to its people. After screwing a layer of sheathing between the beams, we were able to seal the surface with the paper from old mortar bags.

We poured sand onto the paper and formed a small hill. This reminds me of another story. As a little boy, I discovered how to make my sandcastles on the playground more durable. I got some cement from the nearby construction sites, mixed it with the sand, and moistened it. I was delighted with the quality of my creations, but the other children’s parents weren’t so pleased.

Anyone who shakes the dust off their clothes before entering my house might as well put their memory aside.

We stuck stones from the riverbed into the sand. This, too, is a reference to water, which permeates us as human beings and, as a medium, holds our memories.

By the end of May 2026, it was already possible to see where the Osa Mayor’s journey would lead. Thirty-three small mosaics had found their place in the facade, and the upper arch was complete with its keystone. Morning and evening, the sun shone into the street, bathing the facade in a special light. We are grateful to be a part of it. We are grateful to be part of this story. And we perceive it as our own story, a story of humanity.

Mnemosyne is the daughter of Heaven (Uranus) and Earth (Gaia). She is the goddess of time and the goddess of memory. She bore Zeus the nine muses, conceived during nine nights of love. Mnemosyne is also the guardian of the oracle of the underworld. In this oracle, a ritual is offered to the supplicant.

According to Pausanias, the priests do not lead the supplicant directly to the oracle, but instead to two nearby springs. There, he must drink the water from the springs. He first drinks the water of Lethe, the water of forgetfulness. Thus, he forgets everything he knows and has thought about until now. He becomes empty for the next step. Then he drinks the water of Mnemosyne, the water of memory. This allows him to remember everything. The priests then seat him on Mnemosyne’s chair, which stands near the sanctuary, and question him while he sits there about everything he has seen or experienced. The priests hand the petitioner over to Tyche and Daimon Agathon. Later, his relatives care for him until he regains his senses.

The common good is common resource.

In La Osa Mayor, there will one day be two fountains commemorating Mnemosyne and her oracle. Whoever passes through the entrance of La Osa Mayor accepts that they will become equal to all who have passed through it before them. This also includes letting go of one’s own memories to make room for shared remembrance.

Anyone who can look the children of their time in the eye without shame or fear is doing something right. That is the motivation.

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.

This is a story about – and a little surprise for – Yuki. It’s also a story about Martin, Peter, Jady, Luciano, and all the other helpers who gather every Saturday in the Patio La Osa Mayor. It’s the story of a movement of people with the goal of making something happen. It is a story about the progress in a social space.

If you want something to become reality, feel what you will feel when it becomes reality. Juan Petry

This is a story for you if you no longer believe that your government has your best interests at heart, not now, not before, and not in the future. It is a story for you if you don’t wait for solutions, but take action yourself and feel the power within you to make a difference. It is a story for you if you can give without expectation and without worrying about your own gain. It is a story that many before you have written, and you are invited to become a part of it, whether as a silent observer or an active participant.

Many years ago, I was invited to Timișoara in Romania. A sculptor friend showed me the people and the natural surroundings. Among other things, we visited a monastery in the mountains. The monastery was under construction, in the 21st century! Every evening, after a hard day’s work in the fields, the farmers from the village came and worked on the building for two or three hours. Everything was made by hand, just as it had been hundreds of years before. The farmers sang songs and were joyful. They knew they would have to do this for decades to complete the monastery buildings. Time somehow didn’t matter. The farmers received no wages. At the end of their work, they were given a hot meal and walked back to their village. This had been going on for several years, and it would continue for many more. I found this dedication to a cause very remarkable and was deeply impressed. The connection between the people and their joy was palpable.

The idea of ​​creating a patio where people are equal, where humanity has ample space to flourish, likely originated in this observation of these happy people back then in Romania.

La Osa Mayor (LOM) will be a patio in the old quarter of Cervera del Maestre, where the houses were predominantly built from the rubble of the fortress after the Moors were expelled.

In this patio, we will build an open kitchen that will welcome visitors. Everyone who steps through the portal into the patio accepts one rule: Here, we are all equal! Just like at Epicurus’ garden gate, we can meet as equals among equals. That is what truly defines this social space.

Even during the construction phase, volunteers arrive and bring food or drinks, sharing these offerings with everyone else who has come that day to help build this patio. And so it will continue later on. One person brings wine, another water, one brings salad, another bread. It always comes together to create a special experience: the shared brunch after physical labor.

The vertical orientation of Gothic architecture is rich in symbolism. The striving for height and elevation were expressions of spiritual orientation. The facade of the La Osa Mayor is dominated by the four-part arch of the main portal. Everyone who looks at this entrance experiences a special feeling as they pass through these arches. And that is precisely the intention.

People from many countries have contributed to this facade. And many more will follow. Unlike the monastery in Romania, these people often don’t know each other and have never met before. They come together through the power of the idea of ​​building such a social space. Often, one of the helpers continues a task that another had started weeks before.

La Osa Mayor was a house on the street Las Parras, inhabited until about 1970, most recently by a single woman who often stood on the balcony watching the children play in the street. After that, the building fell into disrepair. First, cracks appeared in the roof, then water seeped in and destroyed the individual floors. The wet, termite-eaten beams ends could no longer bear the weight, and the building collapsed from within. Ivy spread, tearing down parts of the facade with its own weight. In the rubble, we found a remarkable stone. It was intricately carved and shaped like a house. Like many stones in the houses of the street Las Parras, this stone had likely been incorporated into the castle over 1000 years earlier. We gave this stone a place of honor on the facade, thus establishing a connection to the history of the village—then a town. History constantly opens and closes its circles. The stone, once a symbol of a military installation, becomes a structural element of the facade of a social space. This is reminiscent of “swords into plowshares” and this transformation is a recurring and necessary one.

Houses like this one were typically inhabited by poor families with many children in earlier times. The choice of building materials for the walls, the wooden beams above the entrance doors, and the simple tiles under the balconies all offer insights into the builders’ living conditions. Often, these ordinary people didn’t even have glass windows in their shops. A simple wooden shed sufficed. Those who had to perform many hours of hard fieldwork each day wanted dark rooms and were content with very little light. One of these wooden sheds is incorporated into the facade of La Osa Mayor. It was also found in the rubble within the building and restored using simple methods.

On the one hand, natural stone houses are very durable and robust. The mixture of natural stone, clay, loam, and lime provides both strength and flexibility. Natural stone houses don’t simply break apart or collapse. The stones can move within the walls, thus relieving tension over the years. A modern concrete wall would hold until it cracks. Then it would no longer be able to support anything.

On the other hand, a natural stone house requires regular maintenance. The clay plaster on the exterior is protected by a layer of lime. This needs to be repaired periodically. At La Osa Mayor, this hadn’t been done for over 55 years. In some places, the stones in the lower part of the facade are only loosely stacked on top of each other. The plaster is missing in many places, and with it, a secure bond between the stones.

One day, our neighbor Martin stopped by. He listened to the story and the vision for the future of La Osa Mayor and spontaneously offered to take care of those sections of the natural stone walls. He suggested a lime plaster. This material has the advantage of being breathable, providing good waterproofing, and being easy to work with.

La Osa Mayor is a social hub for the residents of the street, the neighborhood in the village, and for all of Cervera del Maestre—its inhabitants and visitors.

Martin brought tools, expertise, and time. He even donated some money to buy the bags of lime. He said he would come the following Saturday to begin. And he did.

La Osa Mayor is a private project. There is no public funding or government support. Therefore, financial resources are limited. La Osa Mayor is an investment in the quality of life of its visitors, not a commercial enterprise.

This makes it essential to seek cost-effective solutions. We consider the rubble pile inside the ruins a treasure trove. The treasures are the building materials stored there, which we salvage, process, and repurpose.

As with the Romans, everything is reused on-site. Energy is stored in all materials. Even the transport to the construction site is a form of stored energy. The more that can be reused, the better. Old concrete wall remnants are remixed and used to reinforce walls. What can be reused on-site doesn’t need to be transported away and doesn’t burden a landfill.

Many niches are carved into the walls of La Osa Mayor. The facade, both inside and out, also offers space for the extraordinary. What was often the site of a religious sculpture at the entrance of the farmhouse in the past is now a recurring architectural element, celebrating and adorning the social space of La Osa Mayor. As a protected repository for what is considered precious, the niche also provides a space for contemplation. The many niches of La Osa Mayor invite discovery, reflection, and contemplation, encouraging meditation.

Above the main portal, two openings will face the visitor, one on the left and one on the right. The one on the right will usually—but not always—remain closed. The one on the left will offer a view into the interior of the patio. There will be something special to discover at both locations, but that’s another story.

A keystone is the wedge-shaped stone at the apex of an arch . it is the final piece placed during construction and keeps all the stones into position, allowing the arch to bear weight.

This stone originates from the Cervera dry riverbed. Over millennia, it has migrated from the upper Maestrazgo mountains, carried a little further by each flood. This wanderer through time now finds its place in the inner second arch. It greets the visitor and offers a final, upward glance as one bids farewell.

When we began rebuilding CASAdelDRAGON almost 40 years ago, we removed a lot of rubble and soil from the old, damaged clay floors of the old house. With a small trailer and an old VW van, we drove to the village’s local landfill. On one of our first trips, a farmer stopped us and asked us to fill the dump trucks on the farm track instead of shoveling the load over the rubbish at the landfill. We were initially hesitant. It was a public road, and we were carrying private rubble. But the farmer calmly explained that this was the custom here. The people who use the farm tracks also take care of their upkeep. Our rubble contained no hazardous materials; it was just sand, clay, natural stones, and shards of pottery. This was good for the roads and the vehicles. And it would ultimately be good for the backs of the farmers on their tractors, too. We are now using the excess soil and clay from the La Osa Mayor fields to repair the farm tracks near our Color Garden. The heavy rains of the past few weeks had washed away much of the street materials.

When we started rebuilding the facade of La Osa Mayor, we didn’t yet know how we would be able to work at such heights. We looked for used scaffolding and found a supplier nearby. These scaffolds are currently being decommissioned and replaced with new ones. They are sufficient for our needs. It was a pleasure to erect this 4-meter-high scaffolding in front of the facade for the first time and then be able to work at a comfortable height. It’s good to be able to work in teams of at least two for this kind of work. It’s very tiring to have to constantly go up and down alone to bring in materials. Jardy and Peter donated one section to us. That was also a great help and will allow us to renovate and repoint the interior walls of La Osa Mayor in the future.

Holle was very excited and delighted to learn how to build a brick wall with clay bricks. She had never done any bricklaying before. We chose a spot where she could stand safely and prepared the materials. So, on a Saturday, she built a good portion of the balcony’s jamb and cleaned the joints at the end of the day.

The facade features another special niche, adorned with a small Gothic arch. The stones for the arch came from the beach at Vinaros. That’s another story. The last few stones were just enough for this small arch.

Christian lives in Valencia. He discovered Cervera del Maestre as a place of community life. One Saturday, he came and patiently separated countless clay bricks. These bricks came from the demolition of a house and had been stored at the Color Garden for years. Now, these bricks, too, are finding a new, permanent home as part of the architecture of La Osa Mayor.

Christian didn’t just diligently separate bricks. He also used compressed air to clean the machines of the fine dust. People like Christian are invaluable to communities; they are autonomous, make their own decisions, and sustainably take on self-chosen tasks. People in communities are, in a sense, independent, entrepreneurs, researchers, pioneers. These entrepreneurial types long for people like Christian to visit, to become community founders themselves. This promises high-level cooperation. That’s also why the members of Familiafeliz regularly visit other communities. For their members, this is just as much of a gift.

Construction site logistics is a widely underestimated aspect of achieving the goals of a project like La Osa Mayor. Approximately 50% of the work is spent preparing everything so that the actual project – the results of which will ideally be visible in the architecture – can be carried out: delivery and storage of building materials, preparation, site setup (scaffolding), and transport to the site. This is a photo of the temporary scaffolding that served us well for four months (thanks to Dietmar, who helped to built it).

And this is the new framework for the coming working days.

The photos show the events of the last few weeks. The question remains: what exactly did Yuki build, and what is her statement?

In the ancient Chinese philosophy, yin and yang is the concept that there exist cosmic principles or forces that are opposite but complementary, which interact, interconnect, support and perpetuate each other very well. Yin and Yang together form a dynamic system in which the whole is greater than the interdependent components, and both parts are essential for the cohesion of the whole.

In Chinese mythology, the universe develops out of a primary chaos of primordial qi or material energy, organized into the cycles of yin and yang, force and motion leading to form and matter. Yin is retractive, passive, contractive and receptive in nature in a contrasting relationship to Yang that is repelling, active, expansive and repulsive in principle; this dichotomy in some form, is seen in all things in nature and their patterns of change, difference and transformations. For example, biological, psychological and cosmological seasonal cycles, the historical evolution of landscapes over eons. The original meaning of yin was depicted as the northerly shaded side of a hill and yang being the bright southerly aspect. When pertaining to human gender, yin is associated to more rounded feminine characteristics and yang as sharp and masculine traits.

The Yin-Yang symbol is engraved in a marble slab from Italy, rescued 40 years ago from a marble dealer’s shipping container in Siegburg Schreck near Cologne, Germany. The slab was stored for years at our German branch of the community and eventually found its way to the beginning of construction at CASAdelDRAGON in Cervera del Maestre. The symbol was painstakingly carved into the marble by hand over several days. However, no suitable permanent location could be found.

Now, almost 40 years later, Yuki has embedded it in the balcony recess. It was deliberately installed horizontally. Miraculously, it connects the interior and exterior of La Osa Mayor, and the location could not have been better chosen. The slab serves as a reminder that there is a connection between the inner world of this social space and the outer world. Both spaces are interdependent and form something much greater.

Yuki from Japan was here. She came to help on a Saturday. Her help was a gift without expectations. We accepted the gift. And Yuki built the niche around the marble tablet. She visits Europe. She visits La Osa Mayor.

Yuki is helping to write our story, through her actions. This can also be interpreted as a call to develop a synthesis of European culture and Asian wisdom; that would be helpful in these times. But that’s another story.

In the winter of 2025, we resumed work on La Osa Mayor. Securing the facade was our top priority. Large sections of the facade near the main entrance had been severely damaged in the preceding years and months by wind, rain, and ivy spreading over the remaining walls. The resulting weight from the rain was too much for the wall to bear, and parts of it collapsed. The goal was—and still is—to save what can be saved of the building structure. Only in this way can we safely develop the interior of the patio.

To support the mountain-facing facade later, we began to secure and reinforce one of the inner pillars. It proved successful to distribute future loads not onto the outer natural stone walls, but instead to provide structurally independent columns inside the building. This column, located next to the main entrance, will eventually bear the primary weight of the arches that will connect the front and rear facade walls.

We collected some river stones, which will serve as a simple ornament to adorn this section. They are a reminder of the strength and durability of the related types of stone.

The bricklaying process is characterized by the fact that the initial focus is on ensuring stability, with the joints being cleaned and adjusted only afterward. This process takes approximately six hours if the mortar is used without chemical additives. Bricklaying follows strict rules, which also define the sequences and time frames involved.

The social art project La Osa Mayor is also – like CASAdelDRAGON or Casa Pacha Mama not funded by public money. There are no grants or other government assistance. Consequently, the tools and equipment are improvised and basic. Nevertheless, it is important to ensure safe working conditions even under these circumstances. The remaining scaffolding was joined together with professional clamps, and construction supports for the future wooden form of the Gothic arch were securely anchored to the old threshold of the house entrance.

La Osa Mayor is a social sculpture. As such, it attracts attention even during the construction phase. Therefore, it seemed advisable to communicate its name from the outset. This way, it is perpetuated in many vacation photos.

In the village, people began to wonder, seeing this arch, whether a museum or a church was being built. This question was also motivated by the unusual entrance.

How this place will be used in the future is not clear to the builders. But the story of this entrance should be told here.

When Epicurus decided to create a garden instead of building a building for his school of thought, he considered its future use. The garden was to be dedicated to teaching and education. To provide the best possible environment for this education, there were certain conditions: Everyone who passed through the garden gate should be equal to the others already present in the garden. The free expression of opinion in the public space of the garden should be the basis of dialogue. Epicurus inscribed this “contract” on the gate; whoever passed through it signed this contract.

The architectural choice of this entrance was clear. Everyone who passes through this arch will understand that they are entering a special space. In the Patio Osa Mayor, everyone is equal and therefore has equal rights. A social space can only develop and stabilize if it has no hierarchies and grants equal opportunities to all.

The Gothic arch provides the architectural framework for this.

Many years before, we had collected old, historic terracotta bricks from the spoil heaps on Vinaros beach. We had even kept a few in the bodega of Casa Pacha Mama, located in the same village.

Thus, the arch was constructed from these old yellow terracotta bricks, salvaged from numerous historic buildings in the region, and from terracotta tiles salvaged from the historic Osa Mayor building. We had previously pulled these tiles from the rubble and cleaned them. Some of the terracotta tiles had to be painstakingly freed from old mortar. But this work is always worthwhile, because such terracotta bricks are a priceless treasure. You can’t buy everything important in life. This also applies to local, historic building materials. The ruins of the Osa Mayor serve as our source of these historic building materials, just as the castle ruins served as a quarry for the new residents of Cervera del Maestre many years ago.

Preserving old building fabric is always a balancing act. In this case, two natural stones had to be removed to allow for the construction of a solid Gothic arch springing. This was a critical step, also with regard to the stability of the facade at this point.

After the removal of the two natural stones, work could begin on the Gothic arch.

Barely 8 hours later, the first arch was almost finished. Work was carried out in stages, first on the left and then on the right, to better distribute the weight of the material onto the wooden structure.

The bodega of Casa Pacha Mama still contains a considerable amount of building material that will be used. Massive clay bricks are being brought in from here, which will be used for a second and third arch on the inside of the Gothic arch.

The joints are temporarily sealed with wooden pieces to prevent the mortar from falling out. They will be removed later.

The maintenance work carried out at the end of 2025 included securing the small balcony. Neighbors told stories of the house’s last resident, who often stood on this balcony to watch the children playing and playing in Calle Las Parras. It was said to have been a street with 100 children before the Spanish Civil War.

The inner wall near the balcony was also repaired, and once again old clay bricks from the rubble of the ruin were used.

As with the bow before, the beauty of the work only becomes apparent once the joints have been repaired and cleaned.

We only wrote this article in the spring of 2026. So much had happened, and there simply wasn’t time to write it all down. As always, the places within our community are very dynamic and intense.