ISSUE NO. 65

A November Issue

Being defined by something and being untethered aren’t opposites—they’re a tension you learn to live inside. One gives you a place to stand; the other gives you permission to wander.

Definition offers a starting point. It sharpens your eyes, gives you context, shows you what you’re drawn to and what you’re resisting. But being untethered lets you move without asking for permission from the thing that shaped you. You can carry your influences lightly—close enough to guide you, loose enough not to trap you.

ARCHITECTURALLY CURIOUS

If A Wood Chuck Could Chuck

Stepping into this space feels a bit like reading someone’s quiet thoughts—nothing loud, nothing forced, just materials doing what they do best. The Douglas fir cabinets and floors carry the room, their knots and grain giving the apartment its entire rhythm.

A slim stool sits near the turntable, reminding you that this is a place where music and material coexist without fuss. I caught myself noticing how the soft daylight hits the timber and think: this is how you design a room that doesn’t need decoration to feel alive.

Honesty In The Utilitarian

The bathroom takes a different route—here, everything is stripped back to metal and plaster. The stainless steel sink and faceted toilet sit like small installations, proving that utility can be sculptural if you let it. The matte wall finish around them softens the metallic edges, almost like a stage light dimming to show you what matters. In a world full of over-styled bathrooms, this one feels disarmingly direct.

Tied Knot

The kitchen reads more like architectural joinery than a typical cooking zone. Huge Douglas fir panels conceal every function, turning the entire wall into one continuous surface. A kettle, a burner, and a single cup are all that break the rhythm—small hints of a life unfolding quietly.

Walking through the wooden passageway feels like entering a study of how far simplicity can go before it becomes art.

GLOBAL GLIMPSE

Visual Connection

The living room’s brick wall, washed in a warm backlight, reads almost like a weathered cliff face—steady, textured, and grounding. Low burl-wood platforms anchor the seating area, their grain swirling like topographic maps under the glass objects and books.

Even the deep charcoal leather reads like a shadow cast at dusk, balancing the lighter stone and tile underfoot. Together, these elements create a room that teaches you to slow down and really see the materials speaking to each other.

Hello In Reverse

Moving deeper into the space, the exposed concrete columns and rough mineral walls shift from backdrop to protagonist. What could have been cold or harsh instead feels intentional—each form catching light from the skylight above, turning structure into sculpture.

The stair, carved almost monolithically from stone, rises as if it were always meant to be there. Beside it, a rust-toned panel adds warmth to the concrete’s cool greys, reminding you that contrast can be its own kind of harmony.

On Target

The final space tightens into a small room where the mood changes—quieter, more cerebral. A saturated red painting breaks the palette, pulling the eye forward like a glowing ember against the muted wall panels.

A simple desk and subtle lighting keep the room grounded, but the composition of objects hints at a workspace built for thinking, pausing, and returning to oneself. It’s a reminder that even in a highly structured interior, the most intimate corners can carry their own atmosphere and rhythm.

VISUAL COMFORT

Interrupted

Walking across a thought experiment made tangible.

The cushioned cylinders rise and fall in a continuous wave, turning the floor into something you don’t just stand on—you inhabit. Their hinged structure bends like a spine, reminding you that furniture doesn’t have to be a separate object at all; it can be the terrain itself.

The warm wood walls and soft glow of the table lamps only heighten the strangeness, making the sculpted surface feel both futuristic and handcrafted. What stays with you is the question it quietly asks: What if the room adjusted to us, instead of the other way around?

MUSICAL INTERLUDE

What I'm Listening to in November

The two states feed each other. You need grounding to explore with purpose, and you need looseness to keep your grounding from hardening into limitation. Being “defined” sets the frame; being untethered makes sure you can still step beyond it—I’ll see you next week, my friend.

Warmly,
/shane