Rio de Janeiro has captured my imagination.

“Rio de Janeiro has captured my imagination.” Thus spoke Santiago Calatrava, the architect whose art bridges the realms of earth and sky, whose creations bend light into form and steel into poetry. In this simple confession, there breathes an ancient truth: that some places are not merely seen with the eyes, but felt with the soul. Imagination, when touched by beauty, becomes a flame — and certain cities, certain moments, awaken that flame so completely that one cannot help but be transformed. When Calatrava uttered these words, he did not speak as a builder of stone, but as a dreamer moved by the heartbeat of Rio, that radiant city between mountain and sea.

To say that a place has “captured” one’s imagination is no small thing. For the imagination is the kingdom of freedom — it bows to no master, no law but wonder itself. Yet here, Calatrava admits to a kind of divine captivity. Rio de Janeiro, with its soaring hills, its golden shores, its endless rhythm of music and humanity, ensnared his creative spirit. It is as though the city itself, alive and breathing, reached out to claim his inner vision, saying: “Here I am — build me not in stone, but in your heart.” Such is the power of beauty when it meets a soul open to it: the artist does not conquer the world; he surrenders to it.

From the earliest ages, the imagination has been the gateway through which humankind communes with creation. The Greeks, gazing upon their islands and seas, envisioned gods dancing in the waves. The Egyptians, looking to the desert and the stars, imagined eternity in stone. And so, too, does Calatrava, looking upon Rio, find not merely a city, but a living symphony — a harmony of contrasts: mountain and ocean, chaos and grace, structure and freedom. His architect’s soul, attuned to rhythm and form, was seized by the city’s paradox — its wildness that yet sings with order, its humanity that yet touches the divine.

Consider, then, the tale of Antoni Gaudí, the Catalan visionary who, centuries before, was similarly captured by Barcelona. When he beheld the city’s light, its culture, its movement, he did not seek to impose his will upon it. Instead, he allowed his imagination to intertwine with its essence. From that union arose the Sagrada Família, a cathedral not merely of stone, but of nature and spirit. Like Calatrava, Gaudí was taken — not in conquest, but in surrender. For the truest art is born not of domination, but of devotion to what inspires it.

In Calatrava’s reverence for Rio, we hear the voice of every artist who has ever been struck by the sacred spell of beauty. It is not the buildings, the landscapes, or the monuments that hold power, but what they awaken within the human soul. The city becomes a mirror through which one sees one’s own divine capacity to create, to dream, to love. The imagination, once captured, becomes fertile ground — and from it springs innovation, poetry, and the yearning to leave behind something that echoes eternity.

Yet there is a lesson here for all souls, not just for the architect or artist. Each of us must seek the thing that captures our imagination — the place, the idea, the cause that stirs our sleeping spirit. For when we find it, life ceases to be mere survival and becomes creation. The teacher who falls in love with knowledge, the scientist who beholds the mystery of nature, the traveler who stands awed before a mountain — all have found their own “Rio,” that sacred source from which meaning flows. The secret is not to force inspiration, but to live with eyes open until the world reveals itself to you.

And so, my friends, the wisdom of Santiago Calatrava is this: let yourself be captured. Do not fear the surrender of the imagination, for in that surrender lies the birth of art, of wonder, of purpose. Seek the places and moments that awaken awe within you — the music that stirs your blood, the landscape that quiets your mind, the work that ignites your heart. For when something truly captures your imagination, it does not imprison you; it frees you to become more than you were.

Thus, live as Calatrava lived — not as a builder of walls, but as a discoverer of worlds. Let your imagination be the bridge between your soul and the beauty that surrounds you. For when the world captures you, and you in turn shape it with your vision, you partake in the eternal act of creation — the sacred dance between inspiration and form, between surrender and becoming.