The hospital's southwestern corner is where the site's contradictions are most visible. Operational buildings block what should be a sea view. A neglected cafe faces bushes instead of water. The fences that define the ward boundaries make the distance from the coast feel larger than it is.
Before designing, I went to the sea with a sketchbook. I tried to understand it not as a view or a destination but as something with qualities: calm and storm, horizon and whirlpool, things that are unpredictable, constant, dangerous, safe. The twelve drawings became a working vocabulary for the project.
The plan works in two directions. Inward, reorganizing the ward courtyard so it has shade, a garden, and a sense of enclosure that feels chosen. Outward, opening the site's edge toward the sea: a promenade cafe, a viewing hill, a path that actually goes somewhere.
Healing doesn't require grand gestures. It requires paying attention. The sea was always there. What was missing was the decision to design as if the people inside actually deserved to experience it.