This is quite a different take on the theme of biophilic design. It certainly exemplifies home as sanctuary for these creative individuals. I confess that when I first began to investigate this design approach, I feared being overtaken by philodendrons hanging in macrame – which made me itch. I did not expect thoughtful elegance on this scale. According to the dictionary, biophilic design is meant to “foster a deeper connection between humans and nature.”
Just last night I came across the study of BIPHASTIC sleep. Apparently until the industrial revolution and shift work in factories, humans slept more like the rest of the mammals on earth – in shorter segmented sleep patterns. It is being studied again with the aging of the population. Retirees are finding themselves reverting to a natural rhythm with sleep that means falling asleep early after dark, sleeping for a few hours and then being awake for hours before returning to bed for another short sleep early morning. I’ve got this! Again, validating to discover that something that has felt natural to me is being recognized as being healthy. Perhaps nature had it right all along.
And here’s the connection in my little mind between this interior cabinet of curiosities and biphastic sleep – healthy design decisions will always incorporate healthy living habits. I would probably like being up during the night here, but I don’t want to face the concrete kitchen before morning coffee. I love many of the natural elements here, and I watch imagining the walls glow a golden amber for me. I’d love to hear your take on this.
It is the dead of winter here at the 45th parallel. I live in a shoebox and God forgot to take the lid off. The skies are flat grey for weeks, sometimes months on end. Daylight struggles to become full; it’s dusk all day. It’s grey on grey on grey. Did you know that along the western shore of Michigan’s lower peninsula we have fewer sunny days than anywhere else in the country? Yep, less sun than Alaska. I did the research.
So this next few weeks we are going to explore the interior styles called Dopamine decor and Biospheric design. You gotta love it when media puts a name to some practice you’ve done all your life. As Frasier Crane so eloquently said, “It’s not that complicated – CATCH UP!”
Dopamine decor is just like it sounds – design that lifts the spirit! And biospheric is a fancy word for nature, for blurring the visual lines between outside and in. That said, I’m not going to paint everything grey…in come the dopamine elements.
Here British designer Sophie Robinson illustrates another of my personal design “rules” – decorate around your favorite artwork – not the other way around.
“There are no rules when designing for oneself,” says Marjorie Skouras. Long one of my favorite designers, she certainly isn’t worried about resale value. Like me and my other imaginary friends, she does whatever she wants. I have been painting black chalkboard walls since the early eighties. They are always a delight, and they provide a dramatic and cozy – yes, cozy – background for art. If you are unfamiliar with her work, Marjorie Skouras began incorporating gemstones into furniture and fixtures in a fearless way – and now we all do it. Now where did I put that glue gun?
Can interiors be humorous? Haaahaha….of course they can. Have you ever paid personality fees? I believe in them. Even today in my own home, I refuse to think in terms of resale value.
I’ve heard it said that it’s never too late to have a happy childhood. I’d like to propose a deeper perspective: that to have a meaningful childhood you must grow up first, re-parent yourself, and then gift yourself the childhood you have always wanted. The real childhood you wanted, the one with all the love and acceptance. It’s work. It’s grief work. First you have to grieve the life you haven’t lived, the life you thought you wanted. You have to get to where you can earnestly be grateful for the life you have.
As an adolescent I painted murals on my bedroom walls. One day as I was painting a tree up the wall and out onto the ceiling, my Mom walked in. She did a double take and asked, “what are you doing?” and I looked at her perplexed. Was this a trick question?! “I’m…uh…painting a mural.” “Oh. Okay.” She set down my folded laundry and walked back out.
In many ways my childhood was a dream. We lived in a big old house on the Detroit River. We had cool cars and a built-in swimming pool and boats docked at the end of the yard. We had dogs and cats and rabbits and even a horse among our menagerie of pets. We had a sugar bowl of cocaine in the kitchen cupboard. We had Taco Tuesdays because there were often no parents around, so we took cash out of the drawer to feed ourselves. We had everything you could ever wish for as a child, and much you wouldn’t.
I’m an old woman now, and I wouldn’t change any of it. Early in life I knew the world would never make any sense, and I knew that it wasn’t my fault. I learned to trust my intuition. I learned to be content alone; I taught myself to draw. I became a voracious reader. I learned to think fast on my feet. I learned to love art. I learned the value of anger – it can get you to your grief, where all the grist is found.
“A happy childhood is the worst possible preparation for life.” Kinky Friedman
She’s considered a Louisiana Legend. Stunning is the word here. It seemed only fitting after we visited my real imaginary friend Penny Morrison the other day that we would go to Rebecca Vizard’s home next on our tour. We’re back on this side of the pond now, deep in the Louisiana delta a few hours drive north of New Orleans.
Like Penny, Rebecca is a textile designer with a unique speciality, and you can easily imagine her as your other best friend. Don’t be fooled by any of these delightful personalities I might showcase – they work hard. They have put in long hours for decades to get to where they seem so relaxed. My limited experience in design taught me that it looks glamorous to the untrained eye, but it is grueling work, physically and mentally.
This is a generous invitation into a private world, and in another video she gives a tour of her small town, showcasing the artists and small business owners. Both of her hands and arms are bandaged in that video, and she explains that her little rescue beagle, Lulu, was attacked by another dog that morning and she had to intervene. They both ended up with stitches, and her attitude is, “these things happen.”
I recently heard a spiritual coach asked who she thought would most easily make the transition from 3rd to 5th dimensional thought, and she quickly answered, “interior designers; they get it.” As within, so without isn’t so much a spiritual mantra as a daily practice. If a designer has stuck with their art long enough to be successful, they are a master problem solver. They tend to take challenges in stride. They are some of the biggest philanthropists and animal advocates in the country, but we rarely hear of that work. Accustomed to moving up and down ladders, they are adept with a nail gun and emotional support, they regularly take risks and use their own living spaces as laboratories. Life is for learning, and they are infinitely curious. I admire Rebecca immensely.
This is a long video, so pour yourself a cuppa and get comfy. It offers us a treasure trove of design tips, so I’ll point out a few. But please let me know what you find that I might have missed. “Oh, boy, this is gonna be fun!”
Here are a few ideas I’ve gleaned from this video: 1) You are never finished. As home is an extension of life, it’s a process. 2) Separate your work from your living space if possible. 3) Blur the transition from outdoors to indoors. Let the vines in. 4) You’ll hear this a lot from me: open concept is an abomination of the human spirit. Separate your spaces by function. 5) Forgive the mistakes and begin again. A creative life incorporates the happy accidents. 6) Ignore the trends. Do what works for you. 7) Keep painting it until you love it. 8) You will spend a good part of your life at the kitchen sink. Make sure it works well for your needs. 9) Everything is art; treat it as such. 10) Be grateful. Count your blessings every day…and so, use the good stuff. Let the pets on the furniture. 11) “A hat basket is highly recommended.” Make your own chandeliers. Narnia your bathroom door. Make your interior world magical. 12) And for the love of God – make it PERSONAL.
“NOTHING IS INTERESTING UNLESS IT IS PERSONAL.” – Billy Baldwin
We all seem to be struggling to live with our chronic anxiety. I posit that it has been systematically introduced into our culture by design, quite purposefully. Individuals who are able to think for themselves are hard sells. There is nothing natural about order; it invites anxiety. To accept that chaos is natural is revolutionary thinking. The way to overcome our addictions, including to the neurosis of our culture, is to learn to embrace the mystery. If you are going to practice getting through “one day at a time,” let it be one day of being uncomfortable with chaos. Be a revolutionary.
In the first grade at Nankin Mills elementary my teacher assigned us pen pals from a school in England. Freckled and red-headed, I remember staring at Penny’s photo for hours thinking she might be a fairy. We would not continue our epistolary exchange without a teachers prodding, but throughout all these years I have imagined Penny, my real imaginary friend…
And so when I became aware of British textile designer Penny Morrison, and realized we are about the same age, well…I conjured up all sorts of imagined trips back and forth, even touring India together. She is warm, generous and funny, and we are the best friends you could possibly imagine! I do so love our visits…
“To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart.” – Phyllis Theroux
Fellow anglophile Katie Rosenfeld takes us on a tour of her renovated Tudor in the suburbs of Boston. We don’t have any true Tudor homes in the U.S. of course; technically they are Tudor Revival. Early in my married life in the northern suburbs of Detroit we owned a Tudor built in 1926 (which I maintain was the best decade of home construction in this country.) How often have I rued the day I sold that…it was one of the most beautiful homes I’ve ever lived in.
More slowly than Katie, I took to a bit of renovation. It began with ripping out carpet and having the old white oak floors refinished. And then I painted the dark woodwork. I would do that again today. Design rules are made to be broken, but not my first two: unless you’re living in a castle, paint the woodwork. Nothing brightens and updates a space more quickly. My second design rule, as my niece will attest, is this: no overhead lighting! (My niece says I’m like Mommy Dearest about this.) Yes, okay, sometimes it’s necessary. I do have ceiling fixtures (because already existing here) but I provide plenty of lamp lighting as alternative.
At the risk of losing you all here, let me take a moment to illustrate my obsession with the proper use of English. You might as well get used to it. If the lamp is hard wired in to the ceiling or wall it is a FIXTURE. LIGHT is the energy that is PROVIDED. I’m yelling now: IT IS NOT – I REPEAT NOT! A F&$!#**}! LIGHT!!!! Oh my gawd. LIGHT is what comes OUT of a LAMP or FIXTURE. Phew….moving on…breathe, Susan…
And as long as we’re talking obsession, the wallpaper in her dining room makes the room. It is gorgeous. Please use wallpaper in your home whenever and wherever budget allows. Personally most of it has become unaffordable to me at this time – which is why years ago I began to cut stencils out and paint pattern on walls. That is both easy to do and completely affordable to anyone.
The other easiest way to bring your house up to date and looking fresh is to mix the match. Don’t let things get too matchy-matchy. Katie explains this well here with the example of her dining room lamps. This is one of those British design elements that is not obvious, but effective. If you’re wondering why the British can overfill a space with a riot of colors and styles and you want to plop down with a book and never leave, this is the why and how.
Then she does just the opposite in her primary bedroom. Here she chooses exactly the right word: camouflage. Uneven or wonky doors, walls, and windows can be blended to a calm and pleasing end by blanketing every possible surface in the same color or pattern. The bedroom is the best place for this effect as it subconsciously relaxes the nervous system.
There are dozens of other design elements I see here, but that’s enough for now. Just paint the woodwork already and we’ll go from there. Thank you, Katie Rosenfeld.
The longer I live the more I realize that we each have an important story to share. We are far more human collectively. Let me tell you one of many personal healing stories: unable to walk with sciatica, I called the chiropractor whose Birmingham office was across from the salon. He agreed to fit me into his schedule before work at 7 a.m. Little did I know sitting in his waiting room that morning would change my life forever. A magazine lay on the table there: The Sun, a small literary magazine published in North Carolina. I have now subscribed for decades, but that 1988 issue had an interview with Helen Palmer about her new book, The Enneagram.
Another article featured feminist poet Deena Metzger. When she lost her breast to cancer she had the Tree of Life tattooed across her chest. These two women would influence the rest of my life. Meanwhile, so would the brief treatment with Dr. Radke, my first chiropractic visit ever. He asked me to sit on the table and he faced me at eye level: “Tell me about the nightmare you had this morning.” I’d never met the man; how the hell did he know I’d woken from a nightmare only minutes ago?!
A traveling circus had come to town, but during the night a fire had broken out. All of the animals had escaped and were wandering the city streets and alleys. Unaware of any danger, I walked the alleyway still sleepy and soon realized that a polar bear was stalking me. Faced with a dead end, I was terrified as it caught up to me, reared back it’s giant head and raged in protest at this unfamiliar territory. And I woke, crippled in pain.
Dr. Radke never did adjust me. Instead he guided me through a meditation where I stood my ground with the bear and allowed it close enough to smell me. I wrapped my arms around the bear and buried my face in it’s neck, smelling it back. The majesty of the beast overrode my fear. “Repeat this visualization at bed time, and if you still have pain in the morning I will adjust you.” I would never experience another day of sciatica in my life.
Like Omi here, I am still in this journey of allowing myself to be soft. Listen here as she describes her healing and let the majesty of our humanity override your fear:
“When I came to understand that there are mythic patterns in all our lives, I knew that all of us – often unbeknownst to ourselves – are engaged in a drama of souls we were told was reserved for gods, heroes, and saints.” – Deena Metzger, Miracle at Canyon de Chelly
“You do not have to be good…you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves…whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination.” Oh yes, how I’ve often thought that two of the hardest words to understand in the English language are just and only.
Meanwhile, here is one brilliant poet honoring and personalizing the work of another brilliant poet, both national treasures to be sure. I’d hate to think how I would have gotten through some of the hardest times of my life without these two. Here is a little church for today: