Where Does the Outside End?

Why are we so drawn to the idea of blurring indoors and out?

Perhaps it's because our lives have become so fragmented—boxes within boxes, schedules stacked, moments compartmentalised. And so we crave continuity. Not just open doors or sliding glass, but a way of living that feels less... divided.

We think we want light. We think we want fresh air. But maybe what we’re really seeking is a deeper form of coherence—a home that mirrors what we long for internally: flow, breath, ease.

Why is light so important?

Because it reminds us we’re alive. Because sunlight on the floor in the morning feels like a blessing, and a breeze through the linen curtain feels like permission. Light softens the edges. It gives form to stillness. And when we design with it in mind, we stop simply decorating rooms and start choreographing feeling.

Why now?

Because the way we live has changed. Homes are no longer just shelters; they are studios, sanctuaries, meeting rooms, resting places. The world presses in, and we look outward. Nature becomes not just a view, but a collaborator. We need furniture that feels honest. Materials that can hold the tension of inside and out. Woods with grain. Stones with stories. Textures that don’t flinch under touch.

Why does it matter?

Because design isn’t just aesthetic. It’s emotional architecture. The choice between cane and chrome, plaster and polish, isn’t just visual—it’s visceral. Indoor-outdoor living isn’t a trend; it’s a return. To coherence. To material truth. To the idea that beauty doesn’t need borders. That elegance can weather the elements. That what comforts us should also connect us.

And the fifth why?

Because home should not be a place of disconnection. Not from the seasons, not from the senses, and not from ourselves. When we blur the lines between interior and exterior, we’re not just opening doors—we’re softening the boundary between who we perform to be and who we are becoming.

The future of design isn’t about open-plan layouts or clever extensions. It’s about how we live in relationship with space, with nature, with self. And how, if we pay attention, the architecture of our homes might teach us how to be more whole.