Toy-Filled Home
The house was once shared with three cats; now a small child has joined them, and the rhythm of home beats to the light steps of both feet and paws. He runs, tumbles, and plays, while they slip into corners and leap onto cabinets. Everyday life expands, belongings multiply, and with them comes the need for a container that can transform. The designer reconfigured the space to answer this need. The ceiling was removed, leaving mechanical systems exposed for easier maintenance. No timber paneling was applied; instead, the floor was finished in polished screed for easy cleaning, while the walls were coated with breathable plaster capable of regulating humidity. These material choices allow the space to “breathe” naturally, while adding a tactile, textured warmth to the rooms.
In the living room, there is no television wall. Furniture is no longer locked to a single orientation but can be placed freely. Large floor-to-ceiling windows draw in daylight, creating an open arena where children and cats can move unhindered—a playground that can be opened, rearranged, and explored at any time. Once the kitchen partitions were removed, a cluster of storage units, a cat room, and a tea counter formed an asymmetrical central block, interlocking like pieces of Tetris. Free-standing rather than set against the wall, this mass organizes a looped circulation path, liberating movement from point-to-point routes and broadening perspectives for interaction. Children run in circles, cats weave through passages, and visiting grandparents can stroll hand in hand with the child, moving comfortably throughout the space.
Here, daily life becomes a shared choreography between child and cats. The central storage unit is left open at the top, inviting the cats to leap across it. The tiled countertop below becomes their cool perch in summer. Circular glass portholes in the doors reveal fleeting silhouettes, signaling their approach to those inside. The uneven plaster walls carry the subtle traces of fur rubbed against them. Even details are adapted: a door handle once vertical is now horizontal so the child can open it easily; the raised basin in the guest bathroom helps children wash their hands and allows grandparents to sit while bathing; chamfered corners and rounded edges ensure safety as the child darts through the space with laughter.
In this new rhythm of living, memory itself becomes a building material. The stripped ceilings and walls, their textures left uncovered, preserve the warmth of passing time. Fragments of travel are embedded too: charred cedar and galvanized steel paneling, once forming a Japanese bus shelter, are reinterpreted here as part of the display cabinetry—the weathered timber ready to absorb new traces of life. On the ceiling, three circular cut-outs recall the graphic motifs of Kyoto Station while quietly marking the presence of the family’s three cats.
Laughter and play bring color to the home. Orange and red appear in the child’s drawings and on family chairs. A green sofa anchors the living room, an orange round mirror brightens the bathroom, and sculptures, toys, and artworks scatter into the daughter’s room with its vividly painted cabinetry. In sunlight, these colors radiate a lively energy. Everyday life becomes like a painted canvas on the wall—against a background of gray, white, and black, moments slowly accumulate into a vibrant composition.
