In the heart of Antwerp, tucked away on the edge of the University District, lies a 51-square-meter world that I call my own. When I first stepped into this apartment, built in 1967, I didn’t see the dark, cramped rooms or the outdated kitchen isolated from the light; I saw a canvas. As an interior architect, I have always believed that compact design is not about sacrifice, but about a natural sequence of functions that enhances how we live, work, and feel.
My creative process began with a radical act: removing every internal wall. I wanted to replace the fragmented past with a fluid future, where natural light could reach as deep into the space as possible. To achieve this, I designed a central box finished in smoked brushed larch to serve as the heart of the home. This structure is my sanctuary; it houses a sleeping cove and a hidden bathroom, while its exterior walls act as storage for the small fragments of my life—bike lights, mail, and shoes.
There is a profound emotional connection that comes from building your own home. Because my budget was limited, I chose to be a participant in its construction rather than just a witness. I remember the physical toll and the eventual pride of installing the herringbone mosaic parquet floor myself after taking a specialized course. Every slat of wood represents a choice to turn a small footprint into a fully functioning home.
Aesthetically, I sought a balance between warmth and light. I kept the walls white to let the dark larch of the central box “pop,” while incorporating natural textures like the terrazzo worktop in the kitchen. I find peace in the small details: the way the opaque wall in the bedroom allows the bathroom to stay bright during the day, or the vibrant green of the custom-built shelving that mirrors the mossy tones of my sofa.
My home is a living thing that adapts to my moods. Sometimes the round dining table is a place for laughter and dinner with friends; other times, it is my quiet desk beneath the glow of a flower pot pendant light. When the day ends, I pull a curtain for privacy, hide my projector away in a cabinet, and retreat into the warmth of the wood.
In an era of increasing housing prices, I’ve realized that a small apartment is not a limitation—it is an opportunity. It forces a clarity of mind where every centimeter is intentional. Through creativity and DIY spirit, I haven’t just decorated a space; I have choreographed a lifestyle that feels expansive, regardless of the square footage.