Seven Hidden Courtyards Bring Gardens Into a Pink Greek Island Home

The roof of M Residence looks like someone took a cookie cutter to a terracotta-colored slab. Seven irregular openings break up its square outline, revealing courtyards tucked inside. Designed by Athens-based MOLD Architects, the completed house sits in Lia on the Greek island of Serifos, overlooking the Aegean Sea. The aerial view is striking, but those holes have a more useful job.

They address a familiar tension in scenic homes: how to open up to the outdoors without making every space feel exposed. M Residence brings outdoor areas into the building’s footprint, giving rooms access to gardens and daylight while retaining enclosing walls. I like that the architecture doesn’t treat a panoramic view as the answer to every domestic question. Sometimes you want to see the sea. Sometimes you want a patch of sky and a little separation.

Designer: MOLD Architects

Within that strict perimeter, curved walls guide the route between rooms and courtyards. The architects drew on local monasteries, the cubic buildings of island villages, and the softer contours of rural structures and dry-stone walls. That combination gives the house an unusual rhythm. From outside, it reads as a single, fairly reserved block. Inside, planted pockets and covered passages form a sequence, with views appearing through openings rather than arriving all at once.

The color does plenty of work, too. Earthy pink plaster runs across walls and ceilings, keeping the spaces visually connected even where the geometry gets complicated. I prefer this to the crisp white finish that tends to dominate the vacation-house imagination. Against Serifos’s dry terrain, the warmer shade looks less like a pristine object dropped onto a hillside. It also gives the deep shadows under the roof edges a richness that white walls would handle very differently.

Perforated brick screens interrupt the solid walls with a finer grid. The kitchen offers a different kind of frame: pale wood cabinetry and a broad window facing the water. In Giorgos Sfakianakis’s photographs, a counter extends along that view with stools tucked beneath it. That’s a lovely domestic detail. The sea becomes part of an ordinary place to sit, rather than a spectacle reserved for the living room.

The project also has a history worth knowing. Iliana Kerestetzi, MOLD’s founder, first developed the design in 2011, but it remained unbuilt for more than a decade. New owners later revived it, and the studio revisited the scheme, opening rooms more generously toward the courtyards and warming the material palette. I appreciate that willingness to edit an early idea. A drawing can have a strong identity and still need adjustments before becoming somebody’s everyday surroundings.

Outside, the volume sits on a raised plinth, producing a narrow shadow line beneath its edges. A rectangular swimming pool occupies space beyond the main square. Both moves sharpen the overall composition, although the hovering effect is the more theatrical gesture. For me, the courtyards make the stronger case for the house: they give all that sculptural ambition a purpose at room level.

There’s a limit to what the images establish. They show sheltered corners, planting, and generous openings, but they don’t tell us how the house performs through a hot summer or how its outdoor spaces handle changing weather. I’d resist turning a convincing arrangement of shade and walls into an unsupported claim about energy efficiency.

My favorite detail came after the architects’ drawings. According to Kerestetzi, the residents hung white fabric beneath one roof opening to filter the light, adding a softness the studio hadn’t specified. That small intervention makes the whole project more appealing to me. A house this carefully composed could easily look too precious to touch. Here, the occupants have already adjusted it to suit themselves. The pink walls and curved openings can carry the photographs; a piece of fabric tells you someone is making a home.

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The 296-Square-Foot Yukon Cabin Fits a King Bed Without a Loft

A king-size bed on the main floor makes a persuasive case for skipping the sleeping loft. In the Yukon Park Model by Zook Cabins, you don’t have to climb a ladder to get to bed or fold your sleeping space away before breakfast. For a small vacation retreat, that addresses a very ordinary problem: downsizing can make the simplest parts of a weekend feel like extra work.

Zook offers the Yukon for solo travelers and couples, with 296 square feet of interior space in a 12-by-29-foot footprint. The floor plan keeps the bathroom, kitchenette, and combined living and sleeping area on one level. I’d rather see a small cabin give two people room to move than squeeze in enough beds for a group that would immediately wish it had booked somewhere larger.

Designer: Zook Cabins

That width also shapes how I’d think about using it. The Yukon sits on a triple-axle trailer, but I wouldn’t read the wheels as an invitation to change scenery every Friday. The proportions make more sense as a cabin delivered to a chosen spot, where the extra width earns its keep indoors. For me, the appeal would be returning to the same retreat, with the bed already made and no furniture to rearrange before turning in for the night.

The exterior leans into the familiar cabin vocabulary, with vertical cypress siding, a pitched metal roof, and a covered entry porch. Inside, white oak ceiling boards and beams meet painted shiplap and a faux-stone fireplace surround. I appreciate that the material palette has some variation. The pale walls give the wood room to stand out, while the fireplace provides a substantial visual anchor opposite the bed.

The interior images make the priorities clear: the bed is the main event. Large windows and sliding glass doors surround the sleeping area, with no separate bedroom enclosure dividing it from the kitchenette. That arrangement appeals to me for a weekend away, though I’d be less enthusiastic about sharing it indefinitely. If one person wants to sleep while the other makes breakfast, an open plan leaves little room for negotiation.

The kitchenette reinforces that short-stay character. It has a quartz counter, sink, undercounter refrigerator with a freezer compartment, and a microwave shown on the shelf above. There’s no cooktop in the published specification. I’d approach it as a place for coffee, snacks, and a reheated dinner, rather than an invitation to attempt an ambitious recipe. For the intended getaway, that feels like a reasonable allocation of space.

The bathroom gets a more generous treatment. Zook specifies a floating quartz-topped vanity, a wall-hung toilet, and a glass-enclosed, zero-entry shower with a linear drain and recessed niche. Spending space here makes sense to me. A kitchenette can be modest when you’re eating out; a shower is harder to improvise around. The bathroom feels like a deliberate priority rather than whatever would fit after everything else.

I also like the less glamorous entry details. A bench and coat hooks sit beside the door, with space for footwear underneath. That small landing zone deserves attention because a compact interior has nowhere to hide the clutter of arriving. Boots shouldn’t need their own design manifesto, but they do need somewhere to go.

Pricing requires a quote, and Zook says it delivers its park models throughout the contiguous United States. The company’s planning guidance also calls for attention to permits, site preparation, utilities, and delivery access. Those details matter before the decorating begins. A finished cabin is only one part of getting a retreat ready to use, however inviting the furnished images look.

For me, the Yukon’s strongest decision is giving the bed this much space. It means accepting fewer distinct places to sit, cook, or retreat from a companion. I’d happily make that exchange for a short stay. A weekend cabin doesn’t need to accommodate every routine I have at home, but I would like getting into bed to remain uncomplicated.

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This 28-Foot Tiny Home Fits a Living Room Into Its Staircase

The living room in the Wildscape doesn’t stop at a place to sit. Its terraced timber seating climbs toward the loft, combining a lounge, storage, and a staircase within one substantial piece of joinery. Designed and built by Australia’s Tiny Tect Tiny Houses, this existing model approaches small-space living through changes in level, fitting different activities above and beside one another rather than lining everything along a narrow corridor.

Wildscape measures 8.4 meters long, 2.4 meters wide, and 4.25 meters high, approximately 27.6 by 7.9 by 13.9 feet. The photographed exterior pairs dark metal cladding with timber accents around a tall, glazed end wall. That window arrangement is especially important to the raised lounge, giving its stepped platforms an outward view rather than turning the seating into an inward-facing stack of boxes.

Designer: Tiny Tect Tiny Houses

Inside the terraced configuration, lift-up seat lids reveal storage, while a compact ground-level sleeping nook accommodates a double mattress. The arrangement gives the furniture a considerable workload without introducing separate pieces for every function. It also asks something of its occupants: this is a home organized around climbing and shifting between levels. Anyone drawn to a conventional sofa and an uninterrupted floor should look carefully at how this particular layout works.

Upstairs, a sleeping loft shares the upper portion of the house with a dedicated study area. A suspended net extends the usable space above the kitchen without replacing the opening with an opaque floor. It’s a playful addition with a spatial purpose: someone can occupy the space overhead while the kitchen remains visually connected to the upper level. Tiny Tect identifies both the loft study and net as features of its showcase design.

The kitchen makes fewer concessions to miniature living. Turnkey specifications include a 600mm oven, a four-burner cooktop, a sink, and under-counter cabinetry. A nearby dining nook gives meals their own place within the plan. The bathroom contains a shower, toilet, and vanity, while plumbing provisions accommodate laundry equipment. Appliances such as a dishwasher and washing machine appear among the available upgrades rather than universal inclusions.

Wildscape isn’t restricted to this exact interior. Tiny Tect’s architectural plans include the original terraced lounge and a second version with a larger living platform extending across the room’s width. Buyers can also choose a shell or turnkey build. That flexibility matters because the strongest visual elements are not necessarily standard: custom seating, storage platforms, study joinery, and netting all appear in the builder’s optional extras. Pricing starts at US$71,500, but the showcased fit-out requires its own quote. Wildscape’s attraction lies in that carefully composed interior, so the sensible comparison is the cost of the configuration you’d actually want to inhabit.

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This Spanish Home Uses Curved Roofs and Cork Walls to Stay Naturally Cool

Some houses make their presence known through bold shapes, while others seem to grow naturally from the landscape.  Casa Vereda, designed by L’Aura Ortín Architecture For Happiness, finds a balance between the two. Set in the Spanish countryside, the residence draws inspiration from regional construction traditions, agricultural heritage, and Mediterranean living. Its curved roofs, earthy materials, and distinctive green shutters give the home a contemporary identity that feels rooted in its surroundings.

The architecture is defined by a succession of curved rooflines that ripple across the long, low structure. Constructed using traditional Catalan vaulting techniques and handcrafted bricks, these sculptural forms reference a building method deeply embedded in Spanish architectural history. The exterior is finished in pale sprayed cork, creating a continuous texture across the walls and roof while helping regulate temperature and moisture.

Designer: L’Aura Ortín Architecture For Happiness

A row of tall, leaf green shutters adds a vibrant contrast to the neutral facade. Inspired by traditional Mallorcan designs, the shutters were custom-designed by the architects and made from powder-coated aluminum to provide shade, privacy, and security. Surrounded by vegetation, the house takes on an almost agricultural appearance, recalling the farm buildings and cultivated terraces that characterize the region.

Alongside the residence, a spacious patio paved with handcrafted terracotta tiles creates an inviting outdoor gathering space. The earthy flooring references the area’s agricultural heritage, while large glass doors connect the terrace directly to the interiors. Adjustable shutters help control sunlight throughout the day, making the transition between indoors and outdoors comfortable even during warmer months.

Inside, the living room unfolds beneath a dramatic Catalan vaulted ceiling made from handcrafted bricks in varying shades of terracotta, pink, and sandy beige. The exposed brick brings warmth and texture to the spacious interior, contrasting with smooth white walls and polished terrazzo flooring. Beyond its appearance, the terrazzo contributes to passive temperature regulation by absorbing warmth from the winter sun and staying cool during summer when the shutters are closed.

Modular sofas and ottomans upholstered in rust colored fabric form a comfortable seating arrangement around a simple pine coffee table. A freestanding black fireplace separates the lounge from the dining area without interrupting the open layout. Tall glass doors flood the space with daylight, while cherry-toned timber doors and pale wooden cabinets complete the warm material palette.

The adjoining dining area features a long, pale timber table paired with matching chairs and benches. A simple white dome pendant hangs overhead, while a low wooden sideboard provides storage along the wall. The exposed brick ceiling stretches across the space, adding character to an otherwise minimal setting.

Beside the dining room, the kitchen introduces richer tones through pine cabinetry lacquered in a cherry finish. The reddish wood contrasts with light colored countertops, while a long island provides additional workspace and casual seating with timber stools. Integrated appliances and streamlined cabinetry maintain a clean appearance, allowing the natural materials and vaulted ceiling to remain the focal points.

The bedrooms continue the home’s restrained aesthetic, with exposed brick vaults, white walls, pale terrazzo floors, and natural timber furniture. Unlike the communal areas, these rooms have lower ceilings that create a more intimate atmosphere while making them easier to heat and cool. In the main bedroom, a simple wooden bed is accompanied by a floating bedside table, neutral bedding, and a full-length mirror. The second bedroom features a single timber bed, a compact desk, and a matching wardrobe, with a mustard colored throw adding a subtle pop of color. Glass doors fitted with slatted shutters provide natural light and ventilation while allowing occupants to adjust privacy and shade.

The bathrooms introduce a softer palette through pale gray rectangular wall tiles, warm pink cabinetry, and terracotta colored vessel sinks. One features a floating vanity with a white countertop and round mirror, while the other includes a wider vanity and a large rectangular mirror reflecting the walk-in shower opposite. Contemporary fixtures and minimal glass detailing keep the spaces open and bright, with exposed brick ceilings maintaining continuity throughout the interiors.

Architectural drawings reveal a long, single-story layout organized around everyday functionality. A two-car garage occupies one end, the open living, dining, and kitchen spaces form the center, and the bedrooms and bathrooms sit toward the opposite end. The communal spaces open directly onto the generous terrace, strengthening the home’s relationship with its garden and surroundings.

Casa Vereda finds its charm in the thoughtful reinterpretation of familiar architectural elements. The curved brick vaults, Mallorcan-inspired shutters, terracotta surfaces, and cork exterior serve practical purposes while giving the residence a distinctive identity. Through a careful balance of traditional craftsmanship, passive climate strategies, and contemporary interiors, L’Aura Ortín Architecture For Happiness has created a home that feels entirely at ease with its rural Mediterranean setting.

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Bellavista 11 Folds Thin White Concrete Planes Down an Ibiza Hillside Toward the Sea

Bellavista 11 makes a hillside feel like the starting point of a home rather than a problem to solve. Designed by Fran Silvestre Arquitectos in Roca Llisa, Ibiza, the villa descends toward the Mediterranean through a sequence of white horizontal planes. Its most striking feature is not its size or its pool, but the way its roofs, floors, and terraces appear to belong to one continuous architectural gesture.

The house is the first completed residence in The Roca Views, a development of six homes by the studio. Across three low volumes, the arrangement follows the slope: arrival and garage at the top, shared living spaces in the middle, and five bedrooms below. This descending organization gives the building a legible rhythm, breaking its mass into layers rather than presenting one tall facade to the hillside.

Designer: Fran Silvestre Arquitectos

The defining white concrete plane is just 15 centimeters thick, approximately six inches. Its folds establish roof terraces above the lower volumes and extend outward to shelter outdoor areas. The appeal lies in this double duty: the geometry that gives the villa its identity also helps organize daily life around sun, shade, and time outside.

The central living level brings the kitchen, dining area, and lounge together beside the swimming pool. Full-height sliding glass doors use slender frames and concealed tracks to keep the threshold visually quiet. Open, they connect the rooms to their terraces; closed, they retain the expansive outlook. Below, the bedroom volume faces another outdoor seating area, giving the quieter part of the house its own relationship with the surrounding landscape.

Inside, the material palette softens the precision of the exterior. White walls sit alongside natural stone flooring, oak, and stretched textile ceilings, as detailed by the developer. These surfaces give sunlight different textures to move across, allowing warmth without relying on a busy mix of finishes. In the main bedroom, a private terrace extends the room outward, while motorized curtains offer control over daylight and privacy.

There is a practical counterpoint to all this apparent effortlessness: a house arranged down a slope moves to levels part of everyday living. The developer lists an elevator among the villa’s features, an important detail within such a strongly stepped plan. The project is therefore more interesting as a carefully organized hillside home than as an image of minimalism alone.

Bellavista 11 works best when its sculptural clarity is understood through those ordinary experiences: arriving, descending, opening a door, or finding shade beside the pool. The white planes provide a consistent frame, but the changing Mediterranean light and distant sea supply the variation. Its restraint gives the landscape room to remain the most compelling presence in the house every day.

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Lavvu’s Tiny Home Has a Bathtub and Hidden Storage

A full-size bathtub is a wonderfully stubborn thing to put inside a tiny home. Lavvu includes one in its published XL specification, despite having only about 237 square feet to work with. That choice gets straight to the problem these modular homes tackle: shrinking a dwelling without making everyday life feel like a series of concessions. I like that the answer leaves room for a soak.

Lavvu offers four sizes, from roughly 108 to 237 square feet, with the XL credited to architecture studio Re:Büro. The company is promoting the range for preorder, an important distinction between an appealing design and an immediately available place to live. These are furnished homes, but buyers shouldn’t assume that every size includes every feature shown in the company’s presentation. The XL is the clearest expression of the idea.

Designer: Lavvu

In the promotional imagery, rounded corners and vertically ribbed exterior surfaces give the cabins a slightly retro, almost transportation-inspired appearance. Inside, wood-toned surfaces soften that impression. The large glazed end is the visual centerpiece, framing the landscape rather than leaving it outside a small window. I prefer this approach to making a tiny house resemble a miniature suburban one. The proportions acknowledge that you’re occupying a compact space, while giving your eyes somewhere farther away to land.

The kitchen makes a more practical argument. Lavvu specifies a built-in refrigerator, dishwasher, and two-burner induction cooktop, along with a sliding island that adjusts to provide seated legroom or accommodate standing use. That movable surface is a detail I appreciate. A fixed counter has to commit to one relationship with your body. Letting it shift recognizes that breakfast, food preparation, and moving through a narrow room don’t all require the same arrangement. Small spaces need that kind of flexibility more than another decorative flourish.

Storage gets similar attention. The published XL description includes drawers beneath the bed, nearby shelves, and a wardrobe with hanging space and dedicated shoe storage. These aren’t especially glamorous features, which is precisely why they matter. I’m more persuaded by a place to put yesterday’s clothes than by an immaculate room with no visible possessions. Built-in storage gives the design a plausible way to absorb ordinary belongings, although it doesn’t remove the need to edit what you own.

All that glass makes the setting a meaningful part of the design decision, too. The imagery places the cabins beside water and trees, where openness is the attraction. I’d be less enthusiastic about the same arrangement facing a neighbor’s kitchen. For me, the panoramic end makes the most sense as a retreat with a carefully chosen outlook. Privacy deserves as much attention as the view when deciding where one belongs.

“Mobile” also needs a realistic reading here. Lavvu says its homes travel as fully assembled modules on a trailer or flatbed platform. That describes transportable architecture, not a camper you casually hitch up for a weekend. I see the appeal in having the interior assembled before delivery, but the destination still matters. Access arrangements and installation are questions to resolve with the maker, rather than details to mentally crop out of the scenic pictures.

The listed prices reinforce that this is a considered purchase: the smallest S module starts at €45,000, while the XL starts at €75,000, both before tax. Those are the company’s euro-denominated starting prices, not verified delivered prices for an American property. I’d want a site-specific quote, a confirmed equipment list, and delivery details before treating either number as a complete budget. The distinction matters more than a tempting headline price.

For me, Lavvu’s strongest idea is giving small routines enough space to remain recognizable. Sit at a counter with room for your knees. Put shoes away. Keep a book beside the bed. Take a bath if that’s your preferred way to end the day. I wouldn’t mistake this for an easy answer to every housing need, but as a compact retreat, its attention to ordinary domestic habits makes the design worth considering.

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A 258-Square-Foot Container Cabin Without the Visual Clutter

A home shouldn’t make you negotiate with the furniture just to walk across the room. That becomes a design problem when the entire floor plan measures roughly 258 square feet. The Flacon Cargo Module addresses the squeeze by integrating furniture and concealed storage into its interior surfaces. Architects Evgeny Makarenko and Andris Shneps-Shneppe have converted a shipping container into a micro-cabin organized around keeping the center clear.

Built for two, the cabin sits in Derevnya, a creative community in Znamenka in Russia’s Moscow region. Its domestic ambitions are refreshingly specific: make an old freight container feel like somewhere people would want to spend time. I like that as a brief. Before getting carried away with the appeal of living small, there’s the more immediate business of making a narrow industrial shell feel welcoming enough to consider staying.

Designers: Evgeny Makarenko and Andris Shneps-Shneppe

Birch plywood does much of that work. The interior uses selected BB-grade panels, with flush joints and concealed mounting hardware. A semi-matte lacquer finishes the surfaces. Those are restrained choices, but they give the interior a consistent treatment: fewer visible interruptions, less competing hardware, and a material whose grain supplies detail without requiring additional decoration. I prefer that approach to making every cabinet a separate design statement.

The plywood choice also feels appropriate to the container’s origins. Both belong to a vocabulary of practical, manufactured components, so the conversion doesn’t need to dress itself up as a traditional log cabin. Earlier coverage of the project highlighted how plywood creates broad wall surfaces with relatively few seams. To me, that’s the persuasive move here. The architects have given the space a domestic character without abandoning the straightforward material logic that makes the underlying structure interesting in the first place.

The layout accommodates a double bedroom toward the rear, a kitchen, a living area with a fireplace, and a shower room. The kitchen fits flush into the plywood perimeter. That last detail matters more to me than the checklist of rooms. A kitchen can technically fit inside a tiny home while still dominating everything around it. Folding it into the surrounding surfaces is a more considerate way to share limited space.

An expansive glazed end wall connects the living area to a wooden terrace. I wouldn’t confuse a view with extra square footage, but I appreciate what that opening contributes to the plan: an obvious place for the room to look beyond itself. The terrace also makes sense as somewhere to step away from the carefully fitted interior. Even an appealing small room benefits from an exit that leads somewhere you’d actually want to linger.

It’s worth placing the project in time, too. This is an existing cabin with a history, rather than a newly unveiled housing concept. It received the public-choice award in the interior category at ARHIWOOD in 2020. Reporting from that year’s ceremony also recorded Makarenko discussing its Airbnb listing at the time. That doesn’t establish today’s rental availability, but it does put the project on firmer ground than a set of speculative renderings.

My hesitation would be the permanence of all that integration. Built-ins offer an orderly arrangement, but I’d want to know how well it accommodates habits that weren’t anticipated in the drawings. Where does the half-unpacked weekend bag go? What happens when someone’s preferred chair doesn’t fit the plan? Those aren’t objections to the cabin. They’re the questions that make compact-home design interesting, because an uncluttered interior still has to leave room for people to be a little untidy.

I’d be drawn to Flacon as a retreat before I’d imagine it as my permanent address. Its appeal is the care given to ordinary activities inside a restrictive shape, especially the decision to protect circulation instead of filling every gap. The useful lesson reaches beyond container architecture: storage deserves to be designed alongside the room, early enough that it doesn’t become another obstacle added later. I’d happily borrow that thinking for a much larger home.

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Inside Carl Maston’s Ventura Beach House, Built Around a Brick Chimney

A substantial brick chimney rises through the center of Carl Maston’s Ventura beach house, giving the oceanfront home a surprisingly grounded heart. Completed in 1984, the Susman House sits above a sandy cove at Faria Beach, with views toward the Channel Islands. Its original brief was appealingly specific: preserve the spirit of a traditional California cabin within a contemporary home.

That request came from Tracy “Babs” Susman, who commissioned the house with her partner on land previously owned by her sister and brother-in-law. Maston answered with cedar siding, brick floors, generous glazing, and a roofline that creates a distinctive silhouette. The materials carry the cabin connection without making the house feel like an exercise in rustic nostalgia.

Design: Carl Maston

Across 2,640 square feet, the layout gives shared spaces a clear relationship to both the fireplace and the coastline. An informal lounge connects with the dining area and kitchen, while a double-sided fireplace also serves a den. A full bathroom sits behind a cedar wall. These divisions give the lower floor distinct places to settle without separating every activity into an enclosed room.

The living-room photographs reveal how much work the material palette does. Exposed timber beams establish a steady rhythm overhead, while brick flooring extends around the broad hearth. Wood paneling and shelving reinforce the sense of enclosure. Against that textured interior, the glazed openings become especially legible: they frame the coast while leaving plenty of solid, tactile surfaces around the seating area.

Floor-to-ceiling sliding doors open toward the ocean, and the brick paving continues onto the patio. Carrying the floor material outside gives the terrace a direct visual relationship with the rooms behind it. The kitchen keeps its own character through an original wood-slat ceiling, with a view of the bay available from the sink. Even the more ordinary household tasks have a place along the waterfront.

Upstairs, three bedrooms and a separate sitting area occupy the spaces beneath the sloping roof. A central atrium and landing wrap around the brick chimney, with internal glazing allowing light to reach deeper into the house. Rather than treating circulation as leftover space, Maston makes the route between rooms part of the architectural experience, linking the upper level visually with the living area below.

Photographs show timber-framed internal windows beside the chimney, their angular tops following the roof. That arrangement makes the building’s geometry readable from within. The house is currently listed for $5.1 million, and its selling appeal extends beyond the waterfront address. Maston gave the interior enough substance to hold attention even when the ocean is outside the frame.

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Casa Sima Fits Into a Mexican Forest Without Cutting Down a Single Tree

The trees came first at Casa Sima, and Dosorozco let them determine where the house could go. Set on a wooded slope in Mexico’s Sierra de Tapalpa, Jalisco, the 150-square-meter home occupies an existing clearing. The studio’s decision to retain every tree shaped its elongated plan, terraces, and points of contact with the ground, according to creative director Guillermo R. Orozco.

That constraint gives the project a convincing starting point. A forest setting can easily become scenery for a building conceived independently of it. Here, the architects describe the positions of individual trees as an organizing framework. The interesting design work lies in accommodating what was already growing, with the building’s geometry responding to the site rather than demanding a cleared patch of its own.

Designer: Dosorozco

A raised, stepped walkway climbs toward the house. At the entrance, a timber wall held within a steel frame creates what Orozco calls an “elevated courtyard.” Open to the forest and suspended above the terrain, this threshold introduces enclosure before visitors reach an interior room. It makes the approach part of the architecture, giving arrival its own space without sealing it off.

The timber receives a local oil-and-heat treatment that produces a rough, blackened surface. Stone and pale plaster complete the material palette. Their appeal here is the range of surfaces they bring to the compact composition: dark wood establishes depth, exposed stone gives the walls a pronounced texture, and plaster provides a quieter counterpoint. The studio intended these finishes to echo the surrounding forest’s tones and textures.

Two intersecting rectilinear volumes organize the house. Downstairs, the living, dining, and kitchen area sits between stone walls beneath dark timber ceilings. Glazing opens toward a ground-level southern terrace and an elevated northern terrace. A study and bathroom share this floor, while two bedrooms upstairs have access to rooftop terraces. The arrangement offers several different relationships with the same sloping landscape.

Orozco described Casa Si. Ma as a home for two people. He also explained the studio’s interest in the progressive revelation of spaces, with light and landscape shaping how a building is encountered. That thinking helps explain why the entrance and terraces deserve as much attention as the enclosed rooms: movement through the house is part of its design.

Casa Sima’s strongest idea is this sequence of changing positions: approaching above the ground, entering through an open threshold, then occupying rooms that connect to terraces at different heights. Read this way, its modest floor area becomes a framework for varied encounters with the site. The forest remains close, but the architecture gives each encounter a distinct setting.

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This 40-Foot Tiny House Saves Its Tallest Space for Everyday Living

Twelve-foot ceilings are an unusual starting point for a tiny house, but they explain much of the Ventura’s appeal. Built by Canada’s Mint Tiny House Company, this park model measures 40 feet long and 10 feet wide, with approximately 400 square feet on the main floor, plus two lofts. The completed US-certified home is currently listed for sale, offering a notably generous interpretation of downsizing.

The interesting move is where Mint puts the extra sleeping space. Rather than stretching lofts across the entire interior, the floor plan concentrates them above the bedroom and bathroom end, leaving the kitchen and living area open overhead. That division gives the house two distinct spatial characters: a stacked, compact sleeping zone and a taller communal room. Guests get somewhere to sleep without imposing a low ceiling over the sofa or dining table.

Designer: Mint Tiny House Company

Downstairs, the main bedroom sits at the opposite end from the kitchen, with the bathroom and circulation space providing separation. It accommodates a queen bed, while each loft can take a queen mattress. Crucially, the primary sleeping arrangement doesn’t require climbing stairs. Photographs also show glazed exterior doors beside the downstairs bed, giving this enclosed room a direct connection outside rather than borrowing all its light from the main living space.

The kitchen takes advantage of the home’s width with an L-shaped counter. In Mint’s photographs, the sink sits beneath a broad window, while the cooktop and oven occupy the adjoining run. Upper cabinets stay concentrated above the cooking area, leaving the window unobstructed. Pale cabinet fronts, black handles, and light countertops keep the composition restrained, with the corner providing useful preparation space between washing and cooking.

This particular build includes an 18-inch dishwasher, a propane cooktop, an oven, and a microwave. A separate laundry center handles another everyday task that small homes sometimes leave to external facilities. The bathroom keeps its fixtures straightforward: a 36-by-36-inch shower, a flush toilet, and a compact vanity. These are practical provisions, though the single bathroom remains a shared resource when all three sleeping areas are occupied.

The living-room photographs show a softer treatment than the floor plan alone suggests. A stained vertical-board feature wall backs the sofa, contrasting with white paneling nearby. The furniture arrangement leaves the passage toward the bedroom legible, an important distinction in a narrow home where circulation can easily become leftover space between objects. Mint lists this at approximately US $129,750, subject to exchange rates. Furniture is sold separately. Its strongest decision is preserving generous shared space while stacking the secondary sleeping areas, rather than squeezing every activity beneath a loft.

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