It is said that the architect Lúcio Costa defined the height of the city so that the distance from the highest floor to the ground was good enough for the children to play within earshot and the mother could call her children from home when lunch was ready.  
This intention is the starting point for understanding the relation between the measurements of city spaces and daily events: the route the smell of food takes that leaves the apartments through cobogós and invades the passers-by on the street; the length of the Sunday lunch line at the Eixão, which looks more like the line of a kite right in the middle of the architect's perfect plan; the steps of the stairs counted running down the path to the pilotis; the diameter of the rhyme battle wheel at the metro station, which makes room for fresh voices; the distance from the city to the coast, which leaves the imagination fertile when one perceives a certain similarity between the sky here and the sea there.  
The city soaks these relations and expands, until the spaces, internal and external, and time, of the voices of now and those to come, are in one plane.