“Start with the art,” Sophie Ashby tells us. Here is yet another example of the biophilic design elements we saw in the last post, but arranged in a different way. You can almost imagine these two London townhouses next door to each other. Here we see the impact color can make. Notice how this makes you feel. Both homes are owned by artists and used as their personal laboratories. Your home is your creative laboratory.
Nothing is more personal than art. If you choose art that truly evokes emotion, that you are strangely and inexplicably drawn to, you have made a great start. Never mind whether or not it matches anything else. It doesn’t matter if you invested last months salary or spray painted cardboard in the garage. If it’s huge or small. What does matter is that you love it. Not anyone else – YOU.
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.
“Color is my daylong obsession, joy, and torment.” – Claude Monet
“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
Several posts ago now I promised you help with decluttering. I’m reneging…I cannot get interested in this topic here. Buuuuhhh-lah. So here is a weekend bonus: Caroline Winkler has got us covered. There are a few tips here, and I will also offer this thought: don’t think about organization. In my experience this takes care of itself when you declutter. Now I happen to love clutter. CONTAINED clutter. This is how you visually calm your interior: you contain the clutter in, you know, containers. Trays are my friend; never too many trays…and baskets, and when all else fails, decorative boxes. Hooks everywhere. Wrangle all the tiny little detritus of life into some semblance of order by categorizing it, like with like.
Here is Caroline Winkler to let you know what you’re doing wrong…hahhaaaaaaaa….and yes, I love my Magic Eraser. It’s probably full of chemicals and not environmentally friendly – but it’s MENTALLY friendly. You will have to pry the Magic Eraser out of my cold, dead hands.
the chairs she named after her Grandmother’s sisters. We wish they could talk, too, Monique. In this exuberant home we see fearless use of color. Again, a theme I call “follow your heart” decorating. Buy what you love – unapologetically. Your home IS your altar, the proclamation of your tenacity and of true faith – in life. Was it Picasso who said “artists live out loud?” Live like you mean it.
I was as glad for a new year as anyone. But I experienced a weird phenomenon: there was a deep sadness, too. I felt like I was leaving someone behind. My younger brother died unexpectedly in his sleep eight months ago. Somehow acknowledging the passing of the year felt as though I was abandoning him. I had to say goodbye all over again. Yet I had not thought of that or felt that way on the new year following either of my parents deaths; had not felt like I was leaving them…what was that? I dreamt of Ward on New Years eve, we said goodbye with love and affection, and some type of awareness that this was it for us. I don’t feel his spirit around me anymore.
I have come to appreciate the gift of grief, not to recoil from it. I appreciate my anger. Surely any healing requires acceptance of the full range of our emotion. Gratitude waits on the other side of allowing for it all. I’m so grateful he was my brother.
What has this got to do with decoration? If you haven’t gleaned a theme in this blog yet, it is the fact that I do not know how to separate interior design from interior experience…it’s all the same for me, as within, so without…I FEEL colors. I feel everything. I absolutely GIVE UP trying not to. Because at nearly 70 years of age, I utterly and completely give up trying to be anything other than who I am.
AND – here’s the thing: I just want to grow up. I want to mature spiritually, mentally, emotionally. I want to heal this year, finally, from a lifetime in survival mode. From multi-generational abuse and mental illness, and from living defensively. I’m finally willing to be vulnerable. And the fact is, probably much like you, I have been on a lifelong search for truth, for the cure for this human condition, for “enlightenment” (deliver me.) I want nothing to do with that quest any longer. It holds no value. We both know it’s an INTERIOR issue.
Instead I will seek joy. In every little nook and cranny. I will sing at the top of my lungs off key! I will paint anything that stands still long enough – any color I feel. I might even name my furniture. I want to be warm and cozy and fat and sassy (so far, so good…) I will not abide beige.
My sweet brother never had a chance at any quality of life or happiness. But that’s a story for another time and place. Meanwhile I will not back down from living my life as an artist, in full living color.
“We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be.” – May Sarton
A Painterly Home 