There’s a moment in almost every architect’s career where the idea first surfaces—quietly at first, then louder over time: What if I started my own firm? Maybe it’s the itch for creative freedom, maybe it’s frustration with someone else’s decisions, or maybe it’s just the instinct to build something of your own. I’ve had this conversation more times than I can count—at desks, on job sites, over drinks after a long day. It’s a topic that stirs up excitement, fear, pride, and possibility all at once. Today, we’re stepping into that mindset—the leap, the hustle, the vision behind doing your own thing. Welcome to Episode 177: Hanging Out Your Shingle

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We have a special guest to assist us with discussing today’s topic. Joining us is Daniel Istrate, AIA — a licensed architect and co-founder of Kontexture, a Phoenix-based architecture firm with a growing international presence. Originally from Romania, Daniel moved to the United States as a teenager and went on to earn his architecture degree from the University of Arizona, with studies that also included Italian, Literature, and a minor in studio arts.

He began his career at a small local firm, later navigating the challenges of the 2008 recession while gaining experience at a large national practice. But like many of us, he felt the pull toward something more personal, and in 2013, he made the leap, leaving a stable job to start his firm with longtime friend and collaborator Jorge Toscano. Since then, Kontexture has grown to include two offices - one in Phoenix and another in Hermosillo, Mexico - and in 2018, they expanded into construction by launching a design-build company.

Daniel is joining us today to discuss betting on yourself, building with intention, and creating a firm from the ground up - all themes at the heart of today’s topic.

Let’s start at the moment just before you decided to launch your own firm - what pushed that decision from a long-time idea into something real? 

The first time I played with the idea of opening a firm with another colleague from the first firm I was working at was in 2007 right before the recession.  We quickly realized that was not good timing so we decided against it.  Looking back that was a really good thing, I was only two years out of school and still very green.  After weathering the recession at Smithgroup and getting licensed while there, I started taking on some side work.  I got an offer from another firm to move there as the principal was thinking of retiring soon and was looking to have someone take over.  After being there for a year, on a Friday night at 1:00 am while still at the office I decided that this is the time.  I already had a steady stream of clients and projects that I was doing on the side (moonlighting) 

Binkowitz Residence - Kontexture

You didn’t start Kontexture alone - can you talk a bit about that partnership and how you and Jorge divided up the early responsibilities? 

I started Kontexture with Jorge whom I met while we were both in first year at the U of A.  We always talked about starting a firm together, even while in college.  Early on we were each responsible for our own projects, from early meetings with clients, to design, construction documents, Construction Administration, etc.  But we have identified early what each of our strengths were and we worked off of that.  Jorge is a stronger designer and I am more technical.  

Marigold Dispensary - Kontexture

When you first opened your doors - how did you find work? Did you chase the kind of projects you wanted, or take what came? 

We started the firm with about 20 small projects that we were both working on, on the side.  Once we started the phone kept ringing and we kept getting work based on recommendations from engineers we were collaborating with, contractors and most important, the clients we had were recommending us.

We’ve all stared at the calendar, convinced there’s a hidden twenty-fifth hour—plenty of room to redline that section, nudge the model, and squeeze in just one more detail. “We’ll sort it during bidding,” we promise ourselves, and the optimism buys another day of breathing room. Architects thrive on this kind of self-talk; some versions are harmless, others lurk like change-order booby traps. Today Andrew and I are spotlighting the greatest hits—the stories we repeat, the messes they create, and the habits that can stop the cycle before it snaps back on us. Grab your favorite red Sharpie ... Welcome to Episode EP 176: Little White Lies.

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I've Got Plenty of Time jump to 4:24

This may be the single most prevalent lie we tell ourselves the most during our career. We always are telling ourselves we have the time. Time to finish. Time to do just one more thing. Time to get enough sleep. Time to make it work. Time to meet that deadline and have all the details complete. I’m not saying all architects do this, but there is a large number. I think it’s our underlying optimism in our abilities and skills. Maybe that’s ego, but whatever the reason, it happens. A lot.

We'll Deal with it During Construction jump to 8:13

Another beauty. This is one we tell ourselves as well quite often. We have a looming deadline and we need, no we MUST, publish a set of drawings and meet the deadline. We know we have left some things to deal with later. Sometimes, in the good cases, we make it back to those elements and finish our task in the manner we intended. Often, we deal with the element, but not always in the same manner and care we might have during the design phase. Then, there are those times when we just don’t ever make it back to that and the contractors solve those issues for us. Whether that is how we wanted to not is a different story.

I'll Just do a Little Work Tonight jump to 11:38

Some architects are most assuredly better at this than others. The best of us never even tempt the fates and do work “at night.” Others can actually do just a task or two and then close up shop and move one. Then there is that group that sits down for a few small tasks and doesn’t realize until 4 hours later that they are still working. We knew we should have not sat down at the desk at all. But once it starts, sometimes it’s just too tough to stop.

I'll Do a Little Conceptual Work to Show Them jump to 15:56

This one costs us the most. Not just as an individual, but as a profession. Don’t get me wrong, I have said this one to myself many times. If I just can show them my ideas, surely that will convince them to give me the project. My ideas are so outstanding, how can they not! But more often than not, they like the ideas, don’t hire me for the project, and probably take some of my ideas to the team they did hire. Again, this one hurts. But it also hurts all of the profession for us to give away any work at any time. It devalues our skills and knowledge to those who hire us. I’m not saying it’s easy to avoid that temptation, but for the benefit of all, we most definitely should.

You Can Never Draw Too Much jump to 19:53

This one has manifested itself more and more in our digitally produced documentation world. The easier the software has become to operate and generate drawings, the more drawings we seem to WANT to make. Here the fallacy of just adding more drawings is a lie that gives us comfort that we have done enough and that we have proven our value. More sheets. Larger CD sets. On and on. I think is a way that we choose to compensate for being undervalued in general. It’s like we are the kindergartener that is showing everyone all the drawings they can make with a blue crayon. I can throw out this judgement because I too have fallen victim to this seemingly harmless lie.

At Least We Got this One Detail in the Project jump to 27:53

...

Nobody wants to be the person who asks a question that causes everyone else within ear shot to turn and look at them. We spend the early part of our careers trying to prove we deserve a seat at the table, hoping we sound competent, sharp, with just the right amount of confidence. But architecture isn’t a field you get good at by pretending. It’s a craft you grow into by doing, which ultimately leads to asking questions early, often, and sometimes awkwardly. We are going to embrace that process. We’re digging into how architects keep learning after school, what a real internship should feel like, and how long it really takes to get good at what we do. Welcome to EP 175: Stupid Questions.

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Today, Andrew and I are going to be talking about why becoming an architect takes a long time, that this process involves doing a lot of different things, and how "stupid" questions play an important role in the education process of everyone in this profession. Just to get this out of the way, I am admitting here and now that I ask stupid questions all the time – maybe not as often as I used to, but they’re still there.

The Myth of Knowing Everything jump to 3:51

Architecture school is a beginning, not an ending — a place where students are exposed to broad ideas, creative problem-solving, and the early language of the built environment. But the idea that graduation signals readiness for professional practice is a myth. Schools tend to focus heavily on conceptual design, theoretical frameworks, and academic critiques, with far less emphasis on the realities of technical documentation, consultant coordination, regulatory compliance, or contract administration. According to the National Architectural Accrediting Board (NAAB), while accredited programs must address professional competencies, mastery of technical skills is not expected upon graduation. The gap between academia and practice isn’t a flaw — it’s an acknowledgment that architecture is too vast to teach all at once. True expertise comes from layering education with experience, not from assuming a degree makes you "complete."

Understanding this myth matters because it reframes early career experiences from imposter syndrome into opportunity. If graduates expect to know everything, they’ll view asking questions as a failure; if they expect to still be learning, questions become the most important tool they have. According to a survey by the American Institute of Architects (AIA) Emerging Professionals Committee, 78% of young architects reported feeling “unprepared” for the technical and managerial aspects of practice upon graduation. Yet, firms consistently report that curiosity, not technical perfection, predicts long-term success. Accepting that you won’t know it all — and that you're not supposed to — builds the humility and resilience needed to become a great architect. The myth is persistent, but the truth is far more empowering.

It turns out that the real measure of growth isn’t how many answers you can recite, but the kinds of questions you’re willing to ask.

"Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers."

— Voltaire

This quote emphasizes the point that questions are more important than knowing all the answers — a perfect fit for reframing graduation not as mastery, but as the start of real learning. It aligns with breaking the myth that you're supposed to "know it all" after school.

Learning on the Job: Interns jump to 13:46

Internships are often misunderstood by both students and firms. They aren’t simply about cheap labor or task delegation; they are an essential stage in transforming theoretical knowledge into applied skill. A well-structured internship fosters structured exposure to different phases of work: schematic design, construction documentation, consultant coordination, site visits, and client meetings. In 2021,

There are bits of advice that one collects over a 30 year career and when given the chance, some are worth passing on to those who care to listen. While this could have been a lessons from my father sort of episode, we decided to keep things focused on those of us who either are, or want to be, architects, and we are going to pass along a handful of things that we wish we had known at the start of our careers. Welcome to Episode 174: Dear Future Architects.

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Partial Results from an Instagram Poll asking the question what "Future Architects" should know ... click to enlarge

Today we are going to be talking about those interesting considerations and bits of advice that have been shared with us during our career. While they might not be applicable to everyone, I feel pretty confident that all the items we will be discussing today are of value. This will be the first “Dear Future Architects post as there are too many items to work through in a single episode. These are in the order than they came to mind and I didn’t want to presume a specific priority to them and set them in order of value. I also want to throw in there that a few of these are pretty hot and I fully expect people to think I am full of s%!t … but I am here to bring the pain.

01 Dear Future Architects ... jump to 04:55

Choose your firm based on the skills you want to build.

Residential firms often hone your soft skills—communication, empathy, and negotiation—while commercial firms emphasize technical depth, systems coordination, and documentation.

Source:

https://www.lifeofanarchitect.com/big-or-small-whats-the-right-sized-firm-for-you/

In reflecting on my career, I’ve come to realize that the size of the firm you work for can shape the skills you develop, especially early in your career. If you’re just starting out, a small firm offers the opportunity to develop soft skills like communication, empathy, and negotiation because you're often thrown into situations where you're the point of contact with clients, contractors, and team members. You're more involved with every aspect of a project, and that experience helps you build your confidence. On the other hand, in larger firms, you get more exposure to complex projects that require technical proficiency, systems management, and understanding of legalities. While big firms can make you a better architect in that sense, they may not provide as many opportunities to hone those soft skills until you reach a higher level in the company.

Personally, I’ve found that small firms, while sometimes lacking in technical depth, gave me the chance to sharpen my communication skills and gain a more intimate understanding of how a project works from start to finish. This has served me well as I’ve moved up in my career. But the reality is, each environment teaches you something different, and depending on what you want to learn, one might be a better fit for you than the other.

02 Dear Future Architects ... jump to 11:58

Start small if you plan to go solo.

Working in a small firm exposes you to every aspect of running a practice—from contracts and client meetings to redlines and billing—which is invaluable if owning your own firm is in your future.

Source: 

https://www.lifeofanarchitect.com/architectural-job-starter-kit/

Looking at the question of whether to start in a small firm if you plan to eventually go solo, I believe it’s the best way to prepare. In a small firm, you’re exposed to everything: you write proposals, manage clients, and get a feel for what it really takes to run an office. When I switched from a small firm to a larger one, I found that my skills didn’t always align with what was expected. In a larger firm, tasks like proposal writing are handled by specialists, not generalists like I had been in a small firm. That experience made me realize that if you want to open your own office one day,

Mentorship turns confusion into clarity, builds confidence, and connects you with people who help you grow faster than you ever could alone.

Most people have no idea what I do for a living, and to be honest, most of how I spend my time doesn’t look like the things I did when I was in college. Have things gone terribly wrong for me? What about Andrew? I’m pretty confident that his role as an architect is different than how he imagined it to be … and I think that this is all okay. It should be an interesting conversation, and possibly a mandatory exercise, to find out how architects actually spend their time. Chances are better than likely that the day to day experience for every single architect is unique with only a small bit of overlap … and that is what we are here to talk about. Welcome to EP 172: A Week in the Life of an Architect

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Today we are going to be talking about how we spend our time. I have answered this question as “A Day in the Life of an Architect” exactly 4 time previously on this website.

https://www.lifeofanarchitect.com/an-actual-day-in-the-life/

The  very first "day in the life" sort of post that I ever wrote back on March 10, 2010. At this point, the website was barely 2 months old and I was with a firm that specialized in residential work. Since this was the first time I decided to talk about "a day in the life" I literally went minute by minute through my entire day, starting at 5:50am.

https://www.lifeofanarchitect.com/a-day-in-the-life-of-an-architect/

Fast forward over 4 years to December 1, 2014 ... by this point I had changed jobs and was now working at a company where I had my name on the door, which suggests that I had some control over how I worked and spent my time. In this post, rather than going minute through minute along the tasks of my day, I broke into big chunks based on tasks ... one of which was making a margarita.

https://www.lifeofanarchitect.com/ep-064-a-day-in-the-life-of-an-architect/

Time for some more changes - on to job number 3 since I started the website. This particular day was the first to be immortalized into a podcast episode  that went live on December 6, 2020. Andrew was struggling with Covid at the time of this recording so I had frequent guest and neighbor/architect Lane Acree on to discuss our particular days as it related to how we go about our business in the capacity of Principals at our firm. In an attempt to keep things somewhat fresh, beyond having another person's perspective being added to the mix, we simply broke down our days into early morning, morning, lunch afternoon, and evening.

In each of these episodes, I typically choose a pretty interesting day  – mostly because I wanted to look cool and that my job was exciting. I also think it is interesting to go back through these “day in the life” snapshots to see how my typical day changed as I changed firms and as I changed responsibilities. So rather than simply looking at a singular day that  was selected because it was a “cool” day, we are going to change it up and actually look at a week of time so that we can avoid the possibility of selecting a singularly fabulous day.

Monday jump to 7:58

a look at my work calendar for the week we are discussing today

Bob

I can’t stand Monday … it is easily the worst day of the week. All the meetings associated with preparing everyone for the work to be done that week, as well as all the in-house obligations – meaning, I don’t actually get a lot of work done on Mondays but yet my day is always full and I start the week off behind every single time.

While the "Staffing Meeting" isn't the first thing I do on a Monday morning, it is typically the first meeting I have. Since I have Project Manager responsibilities in the office, that means I have some dominion over who is working where and on what. This meeting is generally about making sure that people are all keep busy, but not overly so. Almost immediately upon the completion of this first meeting, I have a Marketing and Digital strategy meeting.

Being an Architect is difficult and there is plenty of evidence that this is not a vocation that is suitable for everyone. The coursework you will take in college is all over the place – from the drawing and design classes to physics and upper level math requirements, you seem to have to be both an artist and a scientist to go down this path. This begs the question, Just how smart do you need to be in order to become an architect? Welcome to Episode 171: The IQ of an Architect

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Today Andrew and I are going to be talking about intelligence quotient and architects. This was a topic that I tackled with the 3rd blog post I ever wrote (titled IQ's and Jobs), and for years, it was a foundational blog post in the development of my website because so many people read that article. I just checked and it currently has 92 comments, and almost amusingly, there are some angry people out there and they are vocalizing their discontent.

When I was younger, probably between the ages of 8 and 12, I bet I took 20 of them. My mother was a school teacher and all of her schoolteacher friends Would use me and my sisters as practice subjects as they were pursuing diagnostician licenses. I am going to confess right now that this is a nerdy episode because there is a lot of data that needs to be presented and digested in order for us to have a fruitful conversation.

The History jump to 8:21

The origins of the IQ test can be traced back to early-20th-century France. In 1904, the French Ministry of Education commissioned psychologist Alfred Binet and his colleague Théodore Simon to develop a method to identify children who required special educational assistance. The result was the first practical intelligence test, known as the Binet-Simon Scale (published in 1905). The French government needed a systematic way to distinguish students whose learning challenges were not being met in the regular classroom. The aim was to provide extra support, not to label them pejoratively or permanently, but to help tailor education to their needs.

Binet and Simon introduced the concept of a “mental age.” The test included a series of tasks grouped by age level (e.g., tasks that an average 7-year-old could handle, an average 8-year-old could handle, etc.). A child’s performance on age-relevant tasks indicated their “mental age”—a reflection of cognitive performance relative to age-based norms.

Memory: Recalling digits or sentences

Problem-Solving: Completing puzzles or analogies

Verbal Skills: Defining words, understanding analogies

Attention & Comprehension: Following instructions, basic reasoning

The tasks grew progressively more complex. If a child could perform the tasks that most 8-year-olds could but not those of a typical 9-year-old, the test would assign that child a “mental age” of 8.

Although Binet did not explicitly define IQ as a single number, the later concept of IQ was directly inspired by the idea of mental age. Psychologist William Stern (1912) introduced the term Intelligenzquotient (Intelligence Quotient) as a ratio.

Not long after Binet and Simon released their scale, Lewis Terman at Stanford University adapted and expanded their test. The resulting Stanford-Binet Intelligence Scales (first published in 1916) formalized the IQ concept for the English-speaking world and continued to refine “mental age” benchmarks. Terman’s goal was to make Binet’s test more suitable for the American population by adjusting questions, norms, and scoring based on data from U.S. schoolchildren. He also introduced the now-familiar numeric scale with an average (mean) of 100 and a set standard deviation—initially, each standard deviation was 15–16 IQ points.

Terman’s (Circa 1916) Stanford-Binet Categories

Although the exact cutoff points and names varied slightly in different editions,

There is a moment of realization that occurs when you get your first real job in an architectural office that maybe architecture school and what is now going to be expected from you are a little out of phase with one another. Are you prepared, do the differences matter, and what happens when you come to the conclusion that your job and almost everything you have experienced so far based on your time in college, seem so different. Have you made a terrible mistake, or are things about to get amazing? Welcome to Episode 170: Studio versus Real Life

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today we are going to be talking about the differences between the studio experience of architecture students versus the realities of an actual job. There are a handful of emails that I routinely receive and in almost all cases, I would write a blog post with my normal response so that rather than rewriting my answer to the same question over and over again, I could simply point them towards the blog post on the matter.

01 The Pace is Different jump to 3:49

photo

I’ve noticed that once you transition from school to professional practice, the pace of architectural work changes drastically. In school, you might have an entire semester to refine every last detail, but in a firm, every hour is assigned a dollar value (that might be an overly dramatic way of saying it but not entirely inaccurate). As your experience (and billing rate) grows, so do expectations for quicker, more efficient problem-solving. It can be just as cost-effective to pay a higher-rate veteran for one hour as it is to hire a newcomer for five. That dynamic pushes me to rely on my familiarity with codes, circulation, and design principles without having to look everything up or explore countless dead-ends.

At professional architectural offices, this emphasis on speed is front and center. We frequently prepare proof-of-concept studies before contracts are even signed, compressing weeks of design into just a day or two. Recently, another colleague and I modeled a 160+ key hotel with retail, a parking garage, and amenities—complete with a commercial kitchen—in roughly a day and a half. Though not entirely final, it was accurate enough to move forward with confidence. This accelerated process can be stressful, but it also highlights how crucial experience is in making fast, informed decisions

Speed and stress

02 Project Typology jump to 9:24

photo

I’ve been thinking about project typology—the kinds of buildings we design in school versus the kinds we actually end up designing in the real world. In my own college experience, I worked on three or four museum projects, but I’ve never once designed a museum in my professional career. Instead, everyday architecture often involves strip centers and anchor stores, which are obviously less flashy. Yet someone has to design them, and that’s where many of us find ourselves in practice. It doesn’t mean there’s no pride in such work; in fact, the hotel project I’m involved with now is shaping up beautifully, with plenty of room for creativity and thoughtful design moves.

Still, there’s an undeniable difference between the conceptual exercises we tackle in school and the real-world projects we take on later. My theory is that academic assignments are intentionally fantastical because professors want to teach you how to think rather than lean on preconceived notions. In school, you might end up designing a space for traveling poets and butterfly researchers—something so unusual that you can’t rely on a cookie-cutter approach. My colleague suggests that projects like museums and interpretive centers also have simpler programs, which keeps students from being overwhelmed by logistics and allows them to remain creative. Whatever the reasoning, I’ve come to realize that those outlandish academic projects serve a valuable purpose: they stretch your imagination and push you to develop...

The act of creating architecture is a fairly unique process and the manner in which you learn how to think both creatively and technically is a skill that requires certain training and nurturing to develop. When young and eager architects in training head off to college, this development will take place in the architecture studio. This is a topic that – shockingly - we haven’t pointedly discussed on the podcast before and today, that is going to change. Welcome to Episode 169: Architecture Studio

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I’m excited to dive into a conversation that centers on the architecture studio—a pivotal experience in any architecture student’s life. I get a lot of questions about how studio differs from traditional classes like structures or history, and how it transitions into the real world of practice. In the upcoming discussion, Andrew and I will explore how studio life shapes a student’s creative mindset, sets the tone for collaboration (and sometimes competition), and can either inspire a lifelong passion or push someone to walk away entirely. Drawing on my own experiences and numerous inquiries I’ve received over the years, I want to shine a light on the essential lessons and challenges that make studio the heart of an architect’s education—and, ultimately, guide how we thrive once we leave the academic environment.

All-Nighters jump to 04:26

When we started discussing the concept of all-nighters in architecture school, I was reminded of just how universal that experience is - or at least was when we were in college. Whether you’re pulling your very first late night as a new architecture student, or reminiscing about it decades later, the all-nighter stands out as singularly stupid rite of passage—one that I believe can (and should) be avoided. Not because I don’t value hard work, but because I don’t think anyone produces their best ideas at 3:00 am, most likely just a continuing marathon session in the studio that started hours previously. Time management, especially for younger students, is often a serious challenge. We’re learning how to generate designs, how to collaborate, and how to gauge how long things will take. That last part trips up almost everyone (but to be fair, this is something that takes YEARS to get a grip on...)

Still, part of the appeal—and the chaos—of studio is that it’s a highly social place. I remember plenty of late nights where conversation drifted from design critiques to philosophical debates about architecture and back again. Those interactions were frequently more illuminating than formal lectures, because there’s an energy in a room full of tired, passionate, slightly delirious architecture students. Unfortunately, that reality today is different. Technology has enabled students to work wherever they want, which is more convenient, but it also fragments the collaborative spirit that was once a hallmark of studio culture. While I have never been on the all-nighter bandwagon, I feel like there is something missing when students pack up their tools (or in most cases, fold their computers closed) and retreat to their dorms and apartments to complete their assignments

Last Minute Changes jump to 13:05

I strongly believe that last-minute changes often create “negative work”- which is effort that doesn’t actually help you finish your project. It’s tempting to keep designing if that’s your passion, but in school (and in the professional world), you need to set realistic deadlines and work backward to decide how much time to devote to each phase. If you don’t leave enough time for making models or preparing drawings, you’ll end up with amazing ideas that you can’t effectively present. I’ve seen students come to critiques with almost nothing pinned up, talking about what they intended to do, and as someone sitting there looking at your finger pointing at some scribbles telling me what you were going to do,

Building upon our last episode when we discussed the path we have taken to get where we are, how unpredictable and in some cases, how circuitous that path can take, what we didn’t really talk about was if the journey was what we wanted. It’s all fine and dandy to look back and make lemonade from lemons, but now that we are decades into our careers as architect, there is another question we want to ask … Episode 168: Architectural Career – Is It Worth It?

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I am going to start by defining, at least or me, what “it” might mean to help shape this conversation. It starts right out of the gate with quality of life – which I would presume is the case for most people. I don’t need to be rich and I have been fortunate enough that money for the most part does not influence the decisions I’ve made in my life. The most important thing for me is that I want to be a part of something. I want what I do to matter – which admittedly, “who it matters to” can and has changed. Some things I do matter to me, but as I’ve aged in my career, making things better for other people has worked its way into my motivation. When your activities have an impact on others, there is validation that occurs of your decisions, and your behavior. I do want to address the money consideration for a minute. I said it doesn’t influence me, but that’s really because I make a pretty decent living. I don’t care what other people doing other jobs make – good for them. Money simply represents freedom to make certain decisions and to present options.

http://lifeofanarchitect.com/golden-handcuffs-a-lesson-learned/

For those of you who might be new here, or just stumbled on to this article, I shared the post I wrote a long time ago about “Golden Handcuffs” and an experience I had at the beginning of my career (when I wasn’t actually making very much money) where I learned the lesson that money does not bring fulfillment and if you can learn what you need to exist, you can stop the process of chasing a paycheck and focus on being the best version of yourself … which will typically bring with it that larger paycheck.

Now that some baselines are in place, let’s get into the first section ...

The Realities of the Architectural Dream jump to 10:19

When I look back on my career in architecture, I remember how I started out with some enthusiasm. I was convinced I would spend my days doing creative work, designing amazing spaces, and leaving my mark on the world. Now, over three decades later, I can see how that vision of my career evolved in ways I never predicted. The essence of that passion is still there—I love what I do—but the daily realities are far more nuanced than what I imagined as a student. Architecture turned out to be about more than just design; it involves project management, mentorship, business considerations, and sometimes grappling with budgets and fees that don’t always reflect the effort we put in. Despite these challenges, I still believe it’s worth it.

One topic I’ve discussed a lot with Andrew, and with the mentees in my firm, is how the “dream” compares to the “reality.” In architecture school, we’re immersed in design theory and creative exercises; it’s easy to believe that’s your entire future. But then you join a firm, and someone hands you a stack of construction documents or code research spreadsheets. It can feel jarring—I’ve seen many young professionals struggle with the gap between what they thought they’d do and what they actually end up doing. At the same time, that early shock is often what expands your skill set the most. As you handle real-world challenges, your perspective grows, and you start to see the broader impact of architecture beyond just the initial creative spark.

Part of the dream is also about the work having meaning beyond yourself. Architects generally don’t go into this field to make big money; if you truly wanted that,