A room is a decision about how you want to be tired at the end of the day.

I live in forty-eight square metres in Tokyo with one good chair and far too many bowls, so I have had to mean that. I trained as an architect and left to write, which my teachers took badly. Uchi (内) means inside, and it means home: the room you come back to. The palette comes after the tiredness. So does the name on the lamp.

This is where I keep what the world's rooms are doing. Around seventy sources, read in Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Vietnamese, Italian, French and English: an apartment in Seoul, a house outside Taipei, a Copenhagen showroom seen from here rather than from Denmark. East first, because east is where I am sitting.

Each story is a headline, an excerpt of a few lines, one photograph and a link to whoever did the work. We never reprint the piece, and the photograph belongs to the person who took it. When a room was written up in Korean or Italian it stays in Korean or Italian here; the link takes you to the writer's own words.

I am not trying to be complete. I am trying to notice.

— Mio Tachibana, Tokyo

← Uchi Archive

Interni

Inhabiting the Project: How Children Encounter Design

October 14

How do you help little ones inhabit the world of design? And how do you explain that the chair they climb on is, for some, a designer piece?

Read at Interni ↗

One letter a week, starting soon.

Latest

Inhabiting the Project: How Children Encounter Design

More from Interni on Uchi

Designing a square for “chafleare” together: a new meeting place in the Cuneo area Interni

EDIT Naples 2026: Between Crafts and Experimentation Interni

Angelina meets Duomo di Milano Interni

Living in balance between tactile abundance and rigorous minimalism Interni

The Sails of Scampia: A Changing Perspective Interni

knIndustrie, two new collections combining decorative memory and formal research Interni