建筑师 Conchita Blanco 的童年浸润在艺术的双重血脉中——西班牙画家祖父的调色板与巴厘岛舞者祖母的肢体语言。这份天赋并未导向画布或舞台，而是在木材的肌理与石材的孔隙中找到了归宿。

Architect Conchita Blanco’s childhood was steeped in a dual artistic heritage—the palette of her Spanish painter grandfather and the expressive movements of her Balinese dancer grandmother. This innate talent did not lead her to canvas or stage, but found its expression in the grain of wood and the pores of stone.

屋主 Sebastian Mesdag 与珠宝设计师妻子 Ayu Purpa ，则是将自然融入生命的践行者。他们在巴厘岛创立 Tian Taru 工作室，用植物靛蓝染制有机织物。“靛蓝不征服布料，” Sebastian 抚过深蓝布匹，“它邀请纤维共同呼吸。”当这对艺术家夫妇委托挚友 Conchita 设计住宅时，一场关于等待的建造仪式就此开启。

The homeowners, Sebastian Mesdag and his wife Ayu Purpa, a jewelry designer, are practitioners of weaving nature into life. In Bali, they founded the Tian Taru studio, dyeing organic textiles with plant-based indigo. “Indigo does not conquer the fabric,” Sebastian remarked, running his hand over a deep-blue cloth. “It invites the fibers to breathe together.” When this artistic couple commissioned their close friend Conchita to design their home, a ritual of waiting began.

Tian Taru 靛蓝工作坊创始人 Sebastian Mesdag

（左二）

和他的妻子 Ayu Purpa（左一），以及建筑师 Conchita Blanco

（右二）

和她的丈夫 Avalon Carpenter（右一）

车停在稻田边缘时，一组悬浮的坡屋顶如折纸鹤群栖居大地。建造者 Avalon（Conchita 的丈夫）指向钢结构支柱：“我们先立起屋顶的骨架。”

When the car stopped at the edge of the rice fields, a cluster of folded pitched roofs appeared to hover above the earth like resting origami cranes. Avalon, Conchita’s husband and the builder, pointed to the steel structural columns: “We erected the roof’s skeleton first.”

颠覆性的营造逻辑就此展开：屋顶如巨伞撑开四年，雨水在檐下织成珠帘。Sebastian 在空地上播下来自河床的野生树苗，任其在疫情停工期间自由生长。复工时，火山石庭院中已探出发光的蕨叶，枝条缠绕成天然隔断。"房间布局和开窗位置由绿植长势决定，" Conchita 指向客厅，"那株当年的幼苗，如今成了取景框。"

A groundbreaking construction logic unfolded: the roof stood like a giant umbrella for four years, rain weaving beaded curtains along its eaves. Sebastian sowed wild saplings from the riverbed across the open ground, allowing them to grow freely during the pandemic-induced construction pause. By the time work resumed, luminous ferns had emerged in the volcanic stone courtyard, and branches had woven themselves into natural partitions. “The room layouts and window placements were determined by the growth of the greenery,” Conchita explained, pointing to the living room. “That sapling from back then has now become a living picture frame.”

屋顶的双坡藏着光的密码：微妙的非对称设计，让晨昏光线斜穿入室，在柚木地板上流淌暖金，却将正午烈日柔化过滤。远望时屋檐折线与稻田缓坡平行延展，仿佛大地自身的褶皱。

The dual-pitched roof held a secret code of light: a subtly asymmetrical design allowed the oblique rays of dawn and dusk to pour indoors, warming the teak floors with golden hues, while filtering and softening the harsh midday sun. From a distance, the folded eaves extended parallel to the gentle slopes of the rice fields, like natural folds in the land itself.

墙上悬挂

靛蓝布艺

作品

伤痕的礼赞

In Praise of Imperfection

穿过日式庭院，火山岩地面蒸腾着雨后的湿润。下沉客厅如嵌入地面的透明方舟，整片稻浪被框成巨幅长卷。

Passing through the Japanese-style garden, the volcanic stone pavement steamed

with post-rain moisture. The sunken living room resembled a transparent ark embedded in the earth, framing the expanse of rice fields like a vast handscroll painting.

Avalon 的手停在餐厅长桌的裂痕上——闪电状纹路贯穿柚木，蝴蝶榫如银针将断纹缝合。"印尼语中永恒与柚木同词，"他的指尖轻触凸起的木榫，"因为它经得起时间考验。我们接受木材开裂、变色、变形，这些不是缺陷，是材料在诉说故事。"这枚伤痕勋章被复刻至全屋：长凳的斜接榫、柱头的隐藏关节，成为空间的灵魂印记。

Avalon’s hand paused over a lightning-like fissure in the dining table’s teak surface—a butterfly joint stitching the crack together like a silver needle. “In Indonesian, the word for ‘eternity’ shares its root with ‘teak,’” he said, his fingers lightly tracing the raised wood joint. “Because it withstands the test of time. We accept that wood cracks, changes color, warps—these aren’t flaws, they’re the material telling its story.” This philosophy of honoring scars was echoed throughout the house: slanted joinery in benches, hidden joints in column capitals—all becoming the soulful imprints of the space.

Kubu Taru

建造者

valon Carpenter（巴厘岛木匠工作室 Kalpa Taru 的创始人）

材料的本真贯穿始终——外墙的回收铁木随时间褪成月光灰，展现风化之美；日本匠人手漉的香蕉纤维纸天花，透光时如呼吸般起伏；河石台阶嵌于柚木，赤足踏过时触感冷暖交织。

Authenticity of materials permeated every detail: the recycled ironwood exterior walls weathered to a moonlit gray, revealing the beauty of aging; ceilings of Japanese hand-laid banana-fiber paper undulated like breathing skin when backlit; river stones set into teak steps offered alternating cool and warm sensations under bare feet.

名为"靛蓝"的房间是最动人的宣言。柚木墙面浸染五次天然染料，历经三周氧化才定色。"化学木漆会覆盖木材纹理，" Sebastian 凝视蓝墙，"而靛蓝让木纹更清晰。"蕉纤天花滤下的波光在深蓝木纹上流动，仿佛水下森林。

The room named “Indigo” was the most poignant statement. Its teak walls were dipped five times in natural dye, requiring three weeks of oxidation to fix the color. “Chemical wood stains cover the grain,” Sebastian observed, gazing at the blue wall, “but indigo makes it more vivid.” Light filtered through the banana-fiber ceiling cast shifting patterns on the deep-blue wood grain, evoking an underwater forest.

屋主 Sebastian Mesdag

与蚊虫的生态契约

An Ecological Pact with Insects

当被问及如何应对雨林蚊虫，Sebastian 微笑指向屋檐："看那蛛网上的露珠吗？相信昨晚它捕获了不少蚊子。"

When asked how they managed mosquitoes in the rainforest setting, Sebastian smiled and pointed to the eaves: “See the dew on that spiderweb? I trust it caught quite a few mosquitoes last night.”

他建立的生态平衡简单而精妙：倾斜的地势让雨水快速流经房屋下方，带走蚊虫虫卵；白昼门窗敞开迎接清风，日落前关闭卧室门窗。"我们学习与自然共处的节奏，" Ayu 拉上纱帘，"就像接受雨季与旱季的交替。"

The ecological balance he cultivated was simple yet profound: the sloping terrain allowed rainwater to flow swiftly beneath the house, carrying away mosquito larvae; doors and windows remained open by day to welcome the breeze, then closed before dusk. “We’ve learned to move in rhythm with nature,” Ayu said, drawing the gauze curtain. “Just as we accept the alternation of rainy and dry seasons.”

月光漫过 Kubu Taru（树屋）的屋檐，柚木散发出温暖的香气。Conchita 与 Sebastian 站在庭院，看铁木外墙浮起银斑。

Moonlight spilled over the eaves of Kubu Taru (Tree House), the teak releasing its warm fragrance. Conchita and Sebastian stood in the courtyard, watching silver patches form on the ironwood facade.

此刻所有细节汇聚成河：所谓永恒，是四年等待树木成荫的耐心，是尊重木材裂缝的谦卑，是为蜘蛛留一席之地的智慧。当建筑学会与自然同频呼吸，时间便成为最忠实的同盟者。

In this moment, every detail converged into a river of meaning: eternity is the patience to wait four years for trees to cast their shade, the humility to honor the cracks in wood, the wisdom to leave room for spiders. When architecture learns to breathe in sync with nature, time becomes its most faithful ally.