Fresh is a narrative of elongation and extension —of a line whose beginning is clear, yet whose end dissolves into ambiguity. A plot of land whose length compels the eye forward, not for the sake of arrival, but to see, to feel, and to dwell in an extended moment. This elongation is reflected not only in the architectural form but also in the spatial experience it offers. The building, like a continuous ribbon, rests within the earth, as though this line had always existed, waiting only to be revealed.
The entrance is a gateway to another realm—a garden-path that, before it becomes a route, it is a destination in itself. Walking through this passage is an encounter with nature that is neither submissive nor intrusive, but a guide. The interlaced branches cast their shadows, not only inviting entry but also evoking a moment of hesitation: is this the threshold of the interior, or just another layer of the exterior? This garden-path is the first chapter in the story of the building.
The trees that traverse the structure form the heart of its narrative. Their trunks, rooted deep within the space, impose a presence that is both vibrant and eternal. These trees pierce through the roof, their branches reaching the terraces above, where their leaves blend seamlessly into the sky. Sitting on these terraces feels like perching amidst the treetops, as if the residents are not merely living atop the building but within the embrace of nature itself.
Fresh is elongated not only in its form but also in its essence—a space that begins with the continuity of the land, moves through the garden-path, and culminates in the harmonious coexistence of architecture and trees. This elongation is not merely a line but an experience: a journey between interior and exterior, between nature and human construction, between roots and branches.