“Beyond the visible is the invisible; beyond the tangible is the dream” – Hellen Keller

Morning light falls in fragments, slipping through a timber veil. The sound of passing cars drifts into a softened hush. Across the street, a sweep of mature garden breathes. Living spaces lifted to meet the line of sight. Here, the house listens before it speaks.

A delicate lattice skin wraps front and rear in a measured rhythm of shadow and light. Neither wall nor window, it is an inhabited threshold, an in-between space where air, view and sunlight are sieved into deliberate patterns. It slows the eye, softens the day, and draws the outside world into a slower cadence.

More than enclosure, the lattice envelope is a medium. A lens of the perceiver, not of glass, but of wood and air. Through it, the garden is not merely seen, but framed, composed, momentarily held. A single aperture cut into this veil opens to the green beyond, undisturbed and exact in proportion, treating the view as a still frame. Openings whether a cut into the lattice, or shaped as deep bay windows frame rather than expose, so the house reveals itself in measured sequences, never all at once.

Beyond the screen, lives unfold within. In response to the green beyond, the living room is elevated onto the second storey, aligning the horizon of trees and a slip of sky precisely at eye level. Beyond the lattice, the garden lies. Not as backdrop, but as constant companion. It is a slow unfolding, layer by layer, gradually as one ascends. Organised in ascending layers, the house unfolds from grounded service spaces to elevated semi-private living level, to private family retreats, and a roof terrace with undisturbed views. Each level carries its own dialogue with the green; sometimes direct, sometimes filtered, sometimes only implied. This is a vertical choreography of life, ascending, returning, always looking outward and inward.

From the street, the lattice frames the house as softened silhouette. From the garden, in retrospect, it frames the architecture. The living room extends toward the landscape, while above, the master suite continues the dialogue in quieter tones, linked to the living space below through a double-volume elevated courtyard. Here, moments are framed. Children at play on the courtyard garden, parents overlooking from the master suite or living room, or a stillness of contemplation, a book being read in the filtered light. The lattice straddles between presence and pause, its timber veil framing not only what is seen, but shaping the space in which to feel it.

Materials are kept natural; timber, concrete and stone, blending with the surrounding green. The passing of light, the drift of breeze, and the slow turn of the day become the true palette. This is the ethos of the house: not to overwhelm, but to distill. Not to enclose, but to offer. To create spaces not just for living, but for lingering, in filtered light, in framed quiet, beyond the lattice.