Finding my voice in interior design has been a process of understanding what works for me, my approach to design and how I help my customer’s find their own creative voice.
It takes courage to speak up and speak out. Not just for the sake of speaking out but with authority, facts and bias. I am never afraid to put forward my ideas and go against the grain. It has also been about understanding my own value and what I uniquely bring to an interior design project. It has been about learning when to say no and even to walk away from work.
Listen to your true voice, the quiet one that whispers in your head, there is no other one that sounds the same.
Know this, your value is unique, and it matters
I worked on a project that I finished about a year ago which tested every fibre of my value system and what matters most to me in my work. There were many times I wanted to walk away but I hung on because I really wanted to finish the project. I am a great starter but also a good finisher. I don’t give up. It is who I am. I find a way and I wanted to give this project life. I wanted to fix this building. I could see what it would look like, and I had a client that could see where I was going and wanted the vision as much as I did. I also believed I needed this interior design project. I believed that I would make it work. In the end, I got an incredible outcome from a design perspective. I am very proud of this work but to be honest I should have walked away. In the end, I had to take a grandstand anyway.
No one and no outcome are worth sacrificing your values
There is no short cut to life lessons but I wish I had found my voice earlier on in the project, not from the perspective of the interior design outcome, but by being more careful of who I agreed to work and associate myself with. Being more selective with who you trust, not just taking things at face value and understanding how this influences your thinking, is just as important as the quality of the interior design.
People make mistakes, but when they do so repeatedly and these characteristics begin to break down who you are. When someone begins to manipulate you and have a negative impact on your confidence or your thinking, then it’s time to resign from the assignment and move on. No-one and no project is worth the sacrifice. Not even for your beloved art. No matter what anyone tells you.
It matters that every interior design is unique
It matters to me that every interior design I give a client is unique and crafted to suit their individual styles and personality. The final interior design outcome is reflective of the property, the objectives, the individuals involved, the functionality and behaviour it should foster. The final design effect then is a culmination of this process to reflect it’s own individual personality and character.
My process takes a lot of thinking and research. I take time to really connect and engage with each residential and commercial project and the people involved. I find that I will sacrifice myself because I really want a special outcome. The reality is there is a time and a place to do this, a time to really extend yourself, a time to give. But you must know your boundaries. You must never ever compromise what you know is right, even if that person or organisation is one that you have admired, trusted or looked up to your whole life.
Don’t be afraid, leap is what my nineteen-year-old self would have done
Writing this today, has taken me back to a time when I never would have compromised who I was, not for one second. After I finished matric, I wanted to explore the world and discover new things. Be free. Be independent. To my surprise, my parents agreed as long as I paid my way. I think they were so glad I had found some direction. My Dad, in particular really saw how much I needed to find my own way, which of course I only appreciate now that I am going through the same thing with my son (oh yes Karma). So, I got a job as a receptionist at a panel beater (yes, I know not very glamorous but hey it was a job) but I was determined that I was getting the hell out of Dodge.
Ski to freedom
My godmother owned a travel agency and she organised jobs at a ski resort for myself and my dear friend Jane. So off we went; a year later we landed up with a group of other South Africans who would be working at the same resort in New Hampshire in small resort, called Waterville Valley. Jane and I were off to conquer the world. I was beyond excited. I had never experienced such a sense of exhilaration in my life.
I felt like I was a hot air balloon that had been lying limp on the ground and was just filled, lifting with the hot air fueling it higher. I felt alive.
After about four months, my friend Jane and I, found ourselves without our fellow travelers and the van we had all invested in and revamped to travel across the U.S. Our van had broken down somewhere in Texas (I cannot even remember where) left conveniently at the friends of the couple that had convinced Jane and I to join them, and a few others, on their travels.
Surfers and music lovers and the open road
None the less, Jane found out about this cool bus that toured from the East Coast to the West Coast starting in New York and then stopping along the way at all the desired destinations like the Grand Canyon, Utah, Vegas, Texas, New Orleans, and finally arriving in San Francisco. We decided that this was right up our alley and without hesitation we booked our tickets. There we met Walter, our crazy, dread-locked, blonde, blue-eyed surfer bus driver and Steve, our music-loving, singing, good-looking but very gay side-kick, or Walter might have been the side-kick (can’t actually remember but I think I remember it this way because Steve was unavailable).
A melting pot of individuals
It was one of the best road trips I have ever had in my life. We met some incredible people – Martin, the ballet dancer from Denmark with the hot legs who hooked up with Sarah, the very beautiful journalist from New York; Katja, the long-haired brunette from Czechoslovakia; Rusty, the sixty something red head nudist from Napa; Kenny, the Presbyterian minister. There were Kiwi’s, Australians, Americans, South Africans, Danes, Czechs, Poles, English (now suddenly remembering the other Martin from the UK) and a few other nationalities. We were quite the eclectic group of individuals.
Liberation and one dollar bills
I experienced a sense of liberation as we travelled together. Freely sharing our opinions, different views, life experiences, music, dreams, hopes and disappointments. I wrote every day. Poems mostly. Capturing our adventures as we went along our journey. The beauty of youth. The joy of hope. I never wanted it to end. I felt more sure of myself and who I was then, than I did two ago finding myself compromising what I believed in because I believed I needed a piece of work.
I had no money when I landed in San Francisco. In fact, I had one dollar so I convinced my friend Jane we needed a beer. So, I spent my last dollar (Jane of course still has cash) at a bar with a few of our pals from the Green Tortoise, and met Andrew, the American teacher who was picking up our friend Katja from the bus. He landed up offering us a place to stay for our time in San Francisco (I don’t think I mentioned we had no idea where we’re going to stay when we got to San Francisco did I?). Spending that last dollar on exactly how we felt we needed to, made us fabulous friends and got us an awesome commune to stay, which I went on to remain in for the next three months.
I realised trusting yourself is more important than trusting anyone else. What you think of yourself, and doing what you know is right for you, is at the heart of your success.
Two wrongs do not make a right
These last two weeks we have seen a huge uprising because of the death of George Floyd. A criminal. A looter. A drug addict. A thief that held a gun to a pregnant woman’s stomach in previous convictions. Wrongly murdered at the hands of a white policeman. What that policeman did was wrong. Murder is wrong. But to make a criminal a hero is also wrong. More black people die at the hands of other black people. More policeman die protecting the innocent than not. All our lives matter. We have to stand together not apart. We have to stand up for the right things. We cannot allow evil to become good on any level. This is not right. What are we saying is acceptable? Two wrongs do not make a right.
We have to be true to ourselves
Somewhere along the line, we compromise who we are. For work. For our trade. For a cause. For art. For our pride. For our guilt. For power. For control. For our pleasure. To survive. We turn a blind eye. We accept by not speaking out. We fight fights that are not ours to fight. We act without all the facts. We focus on the wrong things. We point fingers. We cause innocent people to lose their jobs. Our actions harm. They harm us. They harm our children.
To be true to yourself, to really be a true artist, a designer, an interior designer, whatever your profession, just to be a good human being starts with not compromising your own value system. It also requires knowing the facts, understanding what needs to be done, making sure that you can add value, that you serve with good intention, and that your unique value will make the outcome better.
Listen to your true voice, the quiet one that whispers in your head, there is no other one that sounds the same.
Love from my yellow room.
2 Responses
Beautifully written as per your pen and your heart! Words that are true and profound and mixed in with all of life’s adventures!
I loved this stage of my life funny how things play out in your story. Thank you for always taking the time to comment.