When I started to realise about Cinema, I was already given birth by Architecture. I remember how my filmmaking-advisor stumbled upon my answer at our first meeting –when he asked me what I studied before, I said Architecture. He said, no way. I said, ya ya. Then he, whom also had gone the same path as mine, enthusiastically told me how easy it was to understand Cinema if had known the ‘A’ discipline before. (Both our names begin with ‘A’; what an Agony). Go on, I listened. He then talked about his ex-wife who was also an “architect-turned-to-filmmaker”, also this, this, that, he continued. After this small talk he mentioned all the names I could only nod to: Antonioni, Alexander Kluge, Andrei Tarkovsky. These, he said, were the film-directors I should immediately watch to see how inseparable these two disciplines were. I watched, staggered, and couldn’t see a thing. Architecture, the asphalt. Cinema, the celluloid. Maybe they were closer to themselves than to one another. But this was somehow, false.