At noon, a Brooklyn studio felt cramped and dark; by five, we had rotated the sofa, floated the rug, lifted curtains, and added two warm lamps. The client texted later that night: guests asked if she had secretly added windows.
A crib squeezed beside a wardrobe overwhelmed a shared bedroom. We swapped to a breathable screen, added soft storage under the bed, and installed a dimmable sconce. Bedtime softened immediately; morning routines simplified, and parents stopped tiptoeing around piles that never seemed to shrink.
We removed a handful of doors, lined shelves, warmed bulbs, and decanted essentials into matching jars. A narrow cart rolled between stove and fridge to expand prep surface. Cooking felt celebratory again, even though nothing structural changed and security deposit protections stayed intact.