On one gloomy Monday morning, as I walked my usual route from casual carpool drop-off to work, I saw a motorcycle helmet resting on a table inside a Starbucks.  I wanted nothing more than to run inside, grab the helmet, hop on a bike and ride off into the sunset.  Or rather, at that moment, ride off into the hills of Chinatown covered in fog and keep riding until I reached sunset.

That was my image of the perfect escape, until now.  The teahouse is a dream come true.  It feels like someone reached into my soul, pulled out the golden core, and manifested its physical form in the shape of a teahouse.   A1 Architects, thank you for your vision.



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