The scent of freshly brewed coffee, the morning news murmur, and the rhythmic clatter of my wife preparing breakfast. For years, this was...

The soft glow of my monitor was the only light in the room, illuminating not a blueprint, but a flurry of emails from anxious clients. It...

The scent of old paper and dust motes dancing in the afternoon sun – that’s the smell of my architectural education. I remember poring...

The cramped studio apartment was a familiar rite of passage for many young architects in the city. Mine was no exception. Twenty-eight...

The monsoon rains were drumming a steady rhythm against the large windows of my studio in Bang Khayaeng, a welcome counterpoint to the...