I have a story about two garages. In the first, the client is excited to finally get their workshop in the garage. They have a meticulous layout of every tool and bench, fully dimensioned and set. As we designed, every decision was second and third guessed. Their builder pushed for what he knew how to build again and again. You can see where this was going, right? There was no way to reconcile what was possible with the existing garage with all that was holding it in place. It remained a garage. In the second garage, the owner had slowly been inhabiting her garage for her creative work. A wall had broken free, the tilt up door had given way and the floor had been overlaid with a thick slab containing radiant heat and was pigmented in a mottle of color. It didn’t take much to release the rest of the garage. Can you feel the difference? In one scene the garage refused to let go, in the other, little bursts of letting go were occurring all around. The first client had occasional flickers of joy in his eyes, but, always, thinking overcame. The second client could hardly contain her joy.
If you want to get new work done, check in to see if you are able to surrender your thinking. This isn’t so much about forcing something because, quite frankly, sometimes you are ready and sometimes you are not. Which garage is yours?
A week ago I posted the one with me at the summit of Kilimanjaro. What I didn’t do, was look today’s moment directly in the eye. I am championing the creation of a Collective to put intelligent small house options into housing for the people. What? Grab a cup of tea, sit down and see how this fits: Poche 2026: a collective
It was 10:15am on the 25th of September, 2002 when we stepped onto Uhuru Peak. The energy on that peak far exceeded any expectation and furthermore, it left me with a very powerful intent. Recognizing the momentous lineage of humanity that allowed me to be here, I vowed to do my part to evolve us.
I climbed mountains for over a decade, managing to summit 34 of Colorado’s 14ers and summited the tallest point in the continental US, Mt Whitney. The tip about mountain climbing is to train as best you can to get as strong as you can, then go climb ze mountain. In architecture, I have trained for over 4 decades and built capacity that only arrives by having done it, again and again. I am now climbing the mountain with everything I have. Join me: Poche Introduction 2026
Part Two: I attended PAACADEMY Design Tech Talk a few weeks ago because StructureCraft was one of the speakers. I (Poche) was a tiny guppy among sleek whales. But here is the thing, the impressive scale difference was irrelevant because where Poche was headed had been undeniable. The world of parametric architecture, where the environment, geography, zoning, and truss constraints push and pull to make intelligence was right there in that first wobbly sketch. And the power embedded in that sort of sketch has cajoled me into places I would never have entered. I make small houses. Computational design and all its heavy lifting has nothing to do with my work. Or does it?
Being pulled by something undeniable is not negotiable. It will find a way to catch your attention and land you on its path. Poche thrust me into the world of startups, famously thick in Boulder, where the irascible lessons peeled me apart. Pivot, pivot, pivot: I know the path is here somewhere. And then it landed. Design software. And what do I know or care about software? – the universe is laughing! But the bell kept dinging every time I faced ‘software’. The tech talk illuminated all the micro dots that I had noticed but failed to see (innovation afoot?). Software is not my landscape. Yet here I am. The Poche Optimizer is design software. It will enable that undeniable sketch to enter the world. I know the power of those sketches, we call them Parti, but never before has a Parti jumped beyond its’ specific site. The Poche’s Parti entered the entirety of architecture. And at least a decade ahead of my wee studio.
What if breaking through isn’t about being first or loud? What if it’s about seeing something that has gone unnoticed and taking the time to have a good long stare at it?
Take trusses – they have been around for thousands of years, modern plate connected trusses came about in the 1950s, yet the Poche truss was awarded a USPTO patent in 2025. This truss frame came about from my pivot away from big custom houses to small houses and the relentless sketching of small buildings that followed as I searched for the key to customizing shape without the complexity of framing. I like intelligent buildings that respond to their circumstances, a lot. A perfect storm took shape as my love of trusses entered the sketching delirium. IT showed up as a wobbly structure being pushed and pulled. Once seen, it became undeniable.
Part One: when the patented Poche went onto its first jobsite and I watched it disappear into the hands of people who build, I was stunned. Something unexpected happened. I saw that this new way to build was not a novelty. They got it, those framers just picked up the trusses and built, as they had thousands of times before. It was elegant, it was beautiful. It was undeniable. It was intelligence made visible. Those framers understood it immediately because it made sense. Poche got the quiet nod from someone who hadn’t needed to sketch it for the umpteenth time to know.
That moment shifted something in me. So maybe the question isn’t: “Is this new?” but rather: “What does it expose that had been unseen?”
I have waxed poetic in many past posts on this project and my work in general, at the end of the day we must move on. The house belongs to the owner. Our job is done.
It did take a while.
We hit some snafus.
What work does not?
Here is what we did accomplish:
8 hours to frame. Versus 60+ to frame conventionally.
Custom shape. No upcharge.
Sheds snow and rain. Without gutters.
Shades summer sun. No extra overhang.
No drywall.
Low embodied carbon.
Linoleum floor.
Low embodied carbon.
Air Change per Hour: 1.6 (code 3.0, Passive House 0.6)
HERS Index Score 46 (code sets a max of 60)
We also made a beautiful dwelling that should be a pleasure to live in, Watch our video: Brooks ADU
The Poche has long spoken about performance and intelligence. Now that it has achieved its Patent (USPTO #12227946), it is exposing its heart, aimed at people who want to be their best human.
Why would a startup with a patented building framing system, promoting economical, performance, and wellbeing advantages in a housing shortage market jump on a track for people who want to be their best humans? Aligning more with yoga, meditation, rock climbing, forest bathing, and the like? The housing market is real and the Poche offers a true solution to some of its hardest problems. So what’s with the Snug and its promoting space where you do nothing on the chance you might become everything?
This is the wall I have been staring at for a number of months as we standardize ADU plans for online purchase and entertain small house projects using Poche. Exciting times to be sure. But my heart keeps getting turned to face the Snug.
It’s an earth floor with a stone It’s a tree These are the superpowers
The Poche Snug is just the pinhole through which you get into a concentrated experience with nature. Not soluble. You either get it or you don’t.
I have no illusion that my stepping off the rail to propose a place for doing nothing is not deeply uncomfortable, but you see, evidence suggests that many of us suffer from something called place blindness, which is an inability to orient oneself in one’s surroundings due to a lack of direct experience. Here is when I begin to remember Slow Architecture. Places that aspire to create a direct experience. Places that by virtue of extraordinary intentionality concentrate an experience such that you vanish into pure presence. Slow Architecture historically dwells in the realm of the rich, the creatives, and the craftsperson. So the Snug with its modest scale and common materiality is plunking what was privileged into greater reach. Standardizing the wellbeing we gain through nature into a sliver of space we can put in your backyard or in a public garden or maybe even on a farm.
The idea that nature is of substantive benefit to us is well known…from ancient Chinese healers to Western writers such as Thoreau, the belief that connecting with the natural world improves wellbeing repeatedly appears throughout recorded human history. This is commonly experienced by folks of who get away to forests and beaches to recreate and decompress. Is it such a far reach to suggest that a small sliver of space intentionally connected to nature might become a commonly available space to re-create yourself? Do we create the world we dream by fixating on the material or do we create that world by becoming our best human?
