light-flooded atrium, where the steel framework opens into a soaring double-height volume that feels utterly transformed from the intimate compression of Thousand Oaks' corridor yet retains that same deliberate material honesty — exposed beams tracing geometric patterns overhead while floor-to-ceiling glass panels dissolve the boundary between interior and the rolling Tifton landscape beyond. Here the Kentucky countryside becomes not backdrop but participant, the greenery pressing close against the glazing as if the estate itself were breathing in the land, and the polished concrete underfoot carries a warmth that belies its industrial origin, radiant heat threading invisibly beneath the surface. The room pivots around a cantilevered walnut staircase whose open risers allow sight lines to cascade through every level, pulling your gaze upward even as the spatial rhythm begins to shift again, drawing you along an axis that stretches toward Topeka's