Step inside and the light changes. A narrow vestibule funnels you through raw stone, walls left textured on purpose so your fingers remember the earth. The temperature drops a few degrees, the kind of cool that belongs to cellars and cathedrals.
He grins when guests reach for the wall. “People touch more in here,” he says. “They stop scrolling with their thumbs and feel things again.”
Hidden LEDs wash the limestone with honeyed glow, revealing swirls of fossil shell frozen in the rock. The entry bends slightly—by design—to create a reveal.
Turn the corner and the space opens like a gasp: a 30-foot chamber, arched and luminous, where stone meets glass and the cave suddenly becomes a living room.
