



ROOM
What we chose was not furniture meant to stand out, but ideas strong enough to endure time and silence.
The interiors of HAKU-ma bring together attitudes of beauty passed down across countries and eras.
With every touch, every moment of sitting, every light softly lit,
it is not the space, but the mind that comes into alignment.
For such an experience, we listened closely to the quiet voices of the world.
LIVING ROOM
|The Moment of Quiet Space Returning
Here, the night may gently reshape the outline of your thoughts.
When the light sits low, words soften.
When the hand touches wood,
the breath grows deep.
And the deeper the shadow, the deeper the quiet inside you.
This space does not steer your mind. It simply supports— clear when you wish to think,
warm when you wish to sleep.
Soft enough to go unnoticed,
yet certain in its effect.
May your time here return a little space to your heart.


TATAMI ROOM
|Sharing Thought, Returning to Rest
Tatami was once a floor for thinking.
Thought did not belong to the desk, but rose quietly after the body had come into balance.
Without searching for meaning, without judging, you place your thoughts in the afterimage left by the movement of black.
You gently share the day’s journey, choosing words with care.
And then, almost unnoticed, the things you thought you were thinking about drift away, leaving behind only a sensation that has not yet become language.
To share a thought is not to reach an answer, but to softly widen the depth of the journey.
BED ROOM
|A Moment of Clear Morning
Morning arrives.
Soft light enters quietly, and white rises as white—clean, composed, and clear.
With a deep breath, you notice that both body and mind feel a little lighter.
A night here is not meant to add anything, but to gently let go of what is no longer needed.
Sleep restores.
Waking quietly moves you forward.
Now, prepare yourself, and step out with your companions into the garden that is Kanazawa.


BATH ROOM
|The Room of Release
In the round warmth of the bath, the tension you carried begins to gently unwind.
Stillness in black, tenderness in white.
Contrasting textures resting side by side, loosening both body and heart.
It accepts everything and holds nothing.
The bath is kū — the quiet state of emptiness. Touch it and it warms you,
sink into it and you dissolve.
In that soft nothingness,
even the weight of today quietly melts away.
A place to shed the day,
and step toward tomorrow renewed.
DINING ROOM
|The Room of Afterglow
A boat of light floats above,
while shadow sinks quietly into depth.
At that faint boundary, words unfold.
Hearts unfold.
A chair holds a clarity of function.
A reclaimed wood bench remembers an honest touch.
Structure born from restraint
resonates with the philosophy of space.
Different textures lean toward one another,
sketching the landscape of conversation.
We unravel the day with laughter, and a quiet question lights tomorrow.
Thought and feeling blend softly, and night acquires its warmth.
Afterglow is not what lingers once voices fade, but the subtle happiness that forms as we speak.
And the time that lives here does not simply pass — it ripens.


ZEN DRY GARDEN
|Before Thought
A time without words, born from strata nearly twenty million years old,
has become stone, has become wall, quietly enclosing this small garden.
A space protected by silence itself.
As you gaze into the garden, the very act of trying to think slowly begins to loosen.
Only time remains, quietly changing its shape somewhere within you.
KITCHEN
|Encircling Time
There is someone who chooses,
someone who cuts,
and someone who listens closely to the voice of heat.
Without exchanging words, the breath flowing through the space gently assigns each role.
The sound of the knife,
the presence of rising steam,
the rhythm of plates being set.
Making, eating, speaking, and remaining silent —
all exist as a single, continuous flow.
