To get people to think about what home means to them, I often come up with a question: What room do you most fondly remember from childhood? Most of the people said the bedroom. The self-entertainment or the state of being alone sum up the appeal for the bedroom. The kitchen comes in second. For most of the people, cooking with their mothers or grandmothers became the collective memory for a family. Finally, there are the basement and the garage, where have always ignited the creative spark in adults and children when doing the crafts.
It occurs to me that the bedroom, the kitchen, and the basement reflect the three basic areas of home: the private sanctuary, the place of community, and the place where thing get made. As long as the places we live are able to accommodate these three different human activities, it can be called home.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Comfort for Homes
Most homes become more difficult to map, for they today rent logic. There is no longer a single pattern or cultural recognition for comfort. In fact, it's a matter of personal choice. Individuals can hold different notions of comfort: Some think an ideal home would be light-filled such as a glass-built house; some associate home with a place of seclusion like a cave.
Privacy, undeniably, is the basic element for home comfort. Parivacy is defined not by space, but by a specific activity and by a specific time. For example, many of us use our bedrooms as libraries when reading books and use hallways with pianos as music rooms. Moreover, with a particular time, usually late at night, many of us like being alone after other family members have gone to bed.
Privacy, undeniably, is the basic element for home comfort. Parivacy is defined not by space, but by a specific activity and by a specific time. For example, many of us use our bedrooms as libraries when reading books and use hallways with pianos as music rooms. Moreover, with a particular time, usually late at night, many of us like being alone after other family members have gone to bed.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Thinking about what space is
What is space? Space is subject to extremes of perceptual subjectivity. It is unlimited but only measurable by boundaries. That is, space will become significant once it is defined by an individual's perception.
Space is best understood by touch. It is literally inside our bodies, with which we constantly compare our surroundings within it. Space is understood in the gut (the inner essential part) before being measured by brain. Thus, space is subject to illusion. In other words, space is imaginary.
Space is best understood by touch. It is literally inside our bodies, with which we constantly compare our surroundings within it. Space is understood in the gut (the inner essential part) before being measured by brain. Thus, space is subject to illusion. In other words, space is imaginary.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Recalled From Sensing Things
A sensory experience has the power of recollecting our life, present or past. We recall past experiences by seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, and smelling things that surround us. Personally, I am easily stirred by things related to lemons. The taste and smell of lemons arouse my feeling for a certain part of my life.
Whenever a lemony aroma wafts through the air, I always conjure up an image of a lemon tree. In my backyard stands a lemon tree with glossy leaves, balmy flowers, and tangy fruits. Above the tree, the sun shines on the fruits so the scent of lemons lifts. Around the tree, a swarm of bees gather the nectar from the golden threads of lemon flowers. Under the tree, morning dew glazes a red wheelbarrow; the shovel digs out the earthy smell of the tree’s roots. The fragrance of the fresh lemons fills the whole yard until it creeps into the living room, the bed rooms, the dining room, and the kitchen-everywhere indoors.
The lemon tree serves as a fruit supplier and an indispensable companion for me. The tree looks different in different seasons. It grows yellow and bald in autumn; it turns green and lush in spring and summer. I, particularly, love that tree when summertime, the season of lemon harvest, arrives. With a pruning shear, I am always excited about nipping the golden fruits from the tree. Because of this full-bearing lemon tree, a smell of blending, of baking, even of burning lemons always breeze from my kitchen. Most of the time, I love desserts made of lemons like crunchy shortbread tartlets, polka-dotted with poppy seeds; lemon pound cakes enlivened with a splash of fresh ginger; and puffs of lemon mousse, sandwiched between wafers-I love that soft and melting texture so much! The lemon tree gives me not only pleasure of taste but also it keeps me company. I enjoy myself drawing and painting in the shade: the leaves of the tree move slightly in the wind against the sunlight. And the moving light mixes the colors on my work. The vacillation between the leaves and the light sometimes inspires me to create a fresh piece by tracing along the dotted light sprinkles.
The lemon tree is born from the soil; of course, it will eventually be summoned back to the earth. The tree has already been there for more than ten years. It feeds me with its fruits and accompanies me with its shade. Unfortunately, this tree, a victim of a colony of termites, is going to be chopped down in this coming November. On some day this November, I will have to wave goodbye to my dear plant-Lemmie, the tree. From that day on, NO MORE will I smell its lovely smell and taste its pulpy taste! I miss having that lemon tree as my constant companion.
Whenever I come across sensing the lemony senses, mostly taste and smell, I always think of that lemon tree standing in my backyard: Every time I smell the lemony aroma, I think of it; every time I taste cuisine spiced with lemons, I think of it; every time, perhaps, I hear a sawing sound, I think of it sadly.
Friday, December 5, 2008
House at Regensburg
"Sustainability" becomes the catchword of responsible builders. The architectural profession for the first time started to think seriously about low-energy building after the oil crisis of the early 1970s. The result was a rash of experimental houses, lots of them were in rustic style to declare their "alternative", anti-industrial ideology.


1. Winter day
The house at Regensburg is a logical design owing more to science than to sentiment. Its pure prism form and rational plan make it almost machine-like. The triangular shape is designed to collect solar energy which can be used to heat the house.


1. Winter day
2. Winter night
3. Summer day
4. Summer night
Friday, November 21, 2008
The Sphinxes
The Netherlands is a geographically low-lying country prone to floods. Therefore, the housing often negotiates with the site, mostly the water area. In fact, there are over 10,000 floating houses situated on water in the Netherlands and is expected to increase to 20,000 by the year 2020.
The Sphinxes, constructed on the lakefront, comprises five buildings and each building contains fourteen apartments. Moreover, the Sphinxes incorporates the parking for the residents in the concrete bases of the buildings. The taper blocks help to catch the sun at the backside with slanting terraces and the lake view at the front side with French windows.


The Sphinxes, constructed on the lakefront, comprises five buildings and each building contains fourteen apartments. Moreover, the Sphinxes incorporates the parking for the residents in the concrete bases of the buildings. The taper blocks help to catch the sun at the backside with slanting terraces and the lake view at the front side with French windows.


Friday, November 7, 2008
Mountain House
Mountain house is used as for weekend retreat. The house is approached across an entry court built of stone from the site, the Appalachian foothills. The entry court’s edges are defined by the garage, the master bedroom, and a large screened porch. The relationship of the house to the landscape bases on the idea of blending in and of blurring the boundaries between inside and out. The concrete walls and wooden decks shape outdoor rooms that extend beyond the living room into the landscape.
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