I ache.
I’m getting pushed and pulled and jostled in this space I’ve claimed as my own. This space – where you’re reading – right now. It’s the tension between where I could be going and where I need to go. For me. For my work. For my creative pulse.
I will not ignore my creative pulse.
So. Let’s go there.
“Designer.”
I’m both to-the-belly-deep proud but I also, now and then, feel the face-burning cringe.
And I ain’t ashamed to say so.
I cringe at the frivolity of the industry. I cringe about the “pretty” that hides the bullshit. I cringe at the collective thought-wall of ‘designer-as-pocket-picker’ that reverberates when I drop the word in certain company.
It doesn’t have to be that way.
It’s not about paint, or furniture, or lamps, or decorative brik-a-brak. It ain’t even about shuffling walls and installing a beautiful sink. It’s about the way you want to FEEL.
How do you want to feel?
Here’s me: I want to feel the warmth of my family when they’re around my table. I want to feel the sanctity of peace when I’m alone within my walls. I want to feel the heat of sex when I need to amp the vibe. I want all of it.
All of it.
Most of all? I want to give that gift to you, whatever your story happens to be.
I want to make you see You.
You.
So who are you?
Tell me.
I want to know: how do you want to feel?
31 Comments
So, I got turned onto this webpage by a friend of mine, not because its a designer site, but because of the music to be honest. Thing is though, the more I came to see what song Erica was going to post next, the more other stuff I looked at.
I wouldn’t call myself the typical design client (hell, I’ve never been a design client), but some of what you say here kinda strikes chord in me. And this post really hammers it home; really makes it clear.
If its not about the shit I have, the shit I should have and the shit I shouldn’t have, but instead about the way my space works and the way I feel when I’m in my space, then I guess at some point I’ll probably be a design client. Because really, who doesn’t want to feel good about their space?
I want to sigh with to-the-bone contentment the second I step inside the door. To feel like I’m really home.
I want to feel butterflies in my belly every time I open the door to my studio. To know that I’m about to tango with my instruments and make my music and do my thing.
I want to step into a space and feel wrapped up in it. To be rocked by this sweet intimacy that is the perfect container for whatever I’m doing.
I want to feel comfortable making as much noise as I want or to be totally and completely silent. I want to feel like there’s room for all of it and that all of it is totally ok.
I’m so glad you invited me to read this, Erica. Before I tell you how I want to feel, let me say I love the writing style. I do recognize a wee bit o’Ms.Diels, but that is a good thing.
Mostly what I like is it isn’t too dense. As in there is lots of space between phrasing and words.
I’ll confess, though I’m a surfer supreme, I rarely finish posts because there is too much. I will never give up books. Reading on a computer is hard for me.
So. Thank you for your white space (cocoa space?) and your to-the-point-ness.
That said. How do I want to FEEL?
100% calmed by my space. Clean (and I don’t!!!). Expressed. As in someone will (and can) tell who I am by my home if they care to pay attention (most people don’t).
I want it to be a full-fledged shrine. Not one nook. Not one room. The whole damned thing. A shrine to art and the things and people I believe in.
And I want it to be small.
Hugs!
P.S. I also crave a really raw warehouse-y space that I can splash paint around and not care.
@Anthony – Who doesn’t, indeed? And ‘good’ is subjective; we’re all unique and our experiences have created different longings and comfort spots. THIS is what makes my heart beat faster when I work… hitting the sweet spot and bringing it alive in 3-D form. Thank you for the compliment.
@Fabeku – You just made me gasp. To be wrapped and embraced and let go all at once. Also? I would really love to hear your “noise” when you think no one is looking.
I want to walk into my space from the outside world and see things that delight and soothe me instead of a long-standing, long-winded To Do list.
I want visual reminders to be about the important things: water the plants, feed the cat, hug the hubby, turn on some music, dig into some work, Thursday is home-spa day, Friday night is date night.
I want to have what I want and want what I have.
I want to be two-faced about luxury and practicality. And also minimalism and lushness.
I want our space to reflect the nutty, loving, socially-awkward, secretly-sexy, tech-headed folks who live here.
(since you asked lol)
Well put, Erica!
As a fellow designer I “FEEL” what you are saying! I have also been in the role of design client (which is a strange role to assume since I was both designer AND client at the same time) but for me, my work always goes back to the same place; if I had to describe the way I want my personal spaces to “feel” it would be Eclectic. Why? Because that’s how I feel most of the time!
I need to be surrounded by the things that remind me of who I am, why I’m here and where I’m going.
For that reason, my space must evoke emotion that is usually tied into my number one passion in life: Travel. I buy more decorative items and art than I do clothing or shoes. I need to look at my gold leaf painting of a healing tree that I bought off a young artist in Laos. It hangs over my bed for a reason. I need to see the collection of natural pumice stones and river rocks I collected from the beaches in Thailand and Cambodia that are lined up on the shelf in the bathroom when I brush my teeth. These silly “things” are beyond decoration…they bring me peace, they instigate nostalgia, and they inspire me to return to my passion of travel.
Hopefully this rant wasn’t too absent-minded…I guess in summary I want to FEEL calm, peaceful, thankful and inspired by the space I’m in.
Achieving this feeling is different for everyone, but for me it means being surrounded by little pieces of my heart..little memories that make me smile everyday.
Intense. Both comments and post have left me somewhat speechless.
I want my life to reflect who I am as a person and who we are as a family. I want to feel pride in my space. I want to feel the same with being a designer, the pride in always being true to who I am in what I do and not settling for second-rate. Bottom line, I do not want any regrets in any facet of this journey.
@Kelly – I’m honored you joined me; truly. I find Ms. Diel’s writing like thought-poetry. I often go back and read again to suss out another level of juiciness (www.kellydiels.com for those of you not currently in-the-know).
Give up reading? I’d miss the smell of books too much. Weird? Maybe. But it’s a sensory experience for me; not just an intellectual or imaginary one. So, I’m glad you’re here.
Frankly, I’m not ashamed to tell you that I’m thinking of stealing, “I want it to be a full-fledged shrine. Not one nook. Not one room. The whole damned thing. A shrine to art and the things and people I believe in.” as my new credence.
What fun…thank you for inviting us in to your space, E.
“How do you want to feel?”
It’s a powerful invitation for self-invocation. Like HOW do you want to be? WHO gets to be that? WHAT would it be like to feel that?
Delicious.
My space reflects my heart. Messy and purposeful, funny and austere, colourful and not, serene and brash. Loved and loving.
How do I want to feel? Loved and loving.
@Crystal – Now THIS I understand. I’ve got to-lists running in my mind all day long; I DON’T want to see them in my space. And your, “two-faced about luxury and practicality and minimalism and lushness” really, really strikes me. I think I’ve been waging this war for a long time – this desire to remain deeply loyal to my ‘green’ position without feeling like I’m living in a tree stump. I think we can have both.
I am TOTALLY digging the kind of people who live there.
Also, what the hell is my happy face doing all the way up there?! LOL!
Oh snap! I love it when a piece of my writing gets stolen! Just share the love in cyberspace and it is all yours…
Funny. When I write I don’t think. When dealing with relationships THIS IS BAD and I get called on it a lot. Writing is my #1 mode of communication. So sometimes I go back and read what I really didn’t think about and say “dang! I said that?”
In this case I saved it AND your post because I’m about to make a move to smaller digs and am really trying to consciously think about what I want/need in that space.
@Tania – Yes. Memory-evoking, soul-stirring, emotion lifting. These are the things that make us who we are and tell our story. It’s not ‘stuff’, like I say; it’s ‘Self’. Your comment perfectly embodied that.
I second your investment in your space more than the covering and decoration of your body. Priorities! Er, my priorities, anyway. Until I look into my closet and decide I have nothing to wear. Le sigh. Process.
Also? I think I’m jealous of your travel schedule.
@Michelle – Comments are gorgeous, huh? I understand what you’re saying completely… this reminds me of your particular aesthetic journey. You strike me as thoughtful and deliberate, artistic yet delicately restrained. And I am DYING to see your space take shape because I know it will speak the language of You and your family.
@Tanya – “Loved and loving.” This is movement, to me. An ever-evolving spectrum of tiny slivers of you – made whole by the very combination of their presence. Quite a powerful combo you’ve got there.
@Kelly – Absolutely! I always give credit where credit is due, mainly because I don’t have the balls to go nikki-nikki-nine-doors-ing in Karma’s neighborhood. So thank you for that.
I get what you’re saying. But that quality is what makes you beautiful, too; don’t forget that. It means you don’t have the sensor that stops you from expressing love and gratitude as richly as some of us. Two sides… two sides.
Woman. If design stops making your heart beat fast at some point in time, I sincerely think you need to consider writing!
I had no idea what to expect, and was blow away by your words. You make me want to find a cozy little space I can call my own, where it reflects my inner soul & most private thoughts, but at the same time, washes a feeling of fresh calmness into me every time I enter. And THAT is a hard feat, since I’m essentially a nomad with no home…ever. I’m very reluctant to ever buy any furniture, etc. because I know that sooner than later, it will simply weigh me down. But your words make me long for the opposite, even if only for a moment.
We must be on similar brain waves–am writing a post AS WE SPEAK about what it is to FEEL.
Look at you go, you little poet. I will say this–if I EVER need my house designed, I’m calling you ASAP.
@Ash – Oh, Ash. You know I’m a sucker for you. It’s your freedom. Your damn-it-all-to-hell lust for freedom. Contagious, it is.
And time; it’s only time. Right now your heart and lust and continual searching IS your home… and holy shit, when you finally DO settle down, it will be an absolute vortex of visual and emotional artistry.
If we’re talking design:
I want to feel at peace. Zenlike. Freedom to move and freedom to interact with my surroundings.
I want to feel like the space was made for me…not for my desk or a bookshelf.
Tranquil…smooth…at ease.
@Nathan mm. I like your hook. Which tells me there’s a deeper story.
You triggered it with the word ‘smooth’. Simplicity can be devastatingly complicated; it requires an unraveling… finding the truest essence of who you are, how you want to work, how you want to create, how you want to FEEL. Without it, tranquility will always remain just out of reach.
I want to be wrapped in a comfy blanket of my choosing. I envision my surroundings to be a reflection of the deepest part of me, so deep in fact that many of my friends have yet to be introduced.
My space needs to be a sanctuary for my soul, as it is the one space that I can truly say is mine. Screw convention, screw what the she-she designer rags tell me my single serving life should look like.
I am not a trendy color or a de rigueur lighting fixture and I adore you Miss Erica for getting that. All of the materials that “date” the look of a home and make people cringe, can be explained by the sense of shame each of us harbors for painting everything hunter green and buying a fl’ing wooden duck. I know I am not a duck decoy person at heart, but I was younger then and not really sure of what I wanted (oh the shame)
Bottom line, I want my surroundings to create a melody in my head that sooths & grooves me way down deep. I have a funny feeling if I achieve that, all of my nearest and dearest would be calmed by the music of my soul.
@Rayna – Your “comfy blanket” is one of the sexiest I’ve ever seen. Dichotomy: imaginative sensuality cloaked in practical utility. And dichotomies, as you know, fascinate the hell out of me.
This is the issue about magazines… it’s the never-ending striving for the “next new thing”. Well, fuck that. We should each be striving for our own new thing. The newness of our discovery. The newness of our learning curve. The newness of the comfort we feel in loving the new.
The “melody in my head”… I think the first step is in realizing you’ve already achieved it. From here on out, it’s just a matter of calling it out to play.
Oh, and “single-serve”? You made me laugh. Because don’t you know the first rule of Fight Club is that we don’t talk about Fight Club?
I used to subscribe to World of Interiors for years – my weekends were spent obsessively drooling over sprawlingly elegant Tuscan bedrooms, French all-white living rooms dotted with baroque lampshades and piles of art books, and I would dream of Eames and Le Courbusier and having a Ron Arad bendy shelf on my kids’ walls.
Hmmm. Nowdays I am thrilled when I just get the place tidy.
I want to feel – inspired and refreshed and calmed by my space. I want to feel luxurious. I want to feel doted upon, pampered, gently kneaded into a state of focused indulgence.
I think I have so many sides – one where I desperately want to be Diane Keaton in Something’s Got To Give, living in a tastefully neutral mansion in the Hamptons by the sea.
On the other I want a den, with red walls and retro furniture and a horrifyingly tasteless but very funky black and white cowhide on the floor. Something classy on the stereo. And I’m tipsy.
And part of me wants the unravelling (I think this is a perfect way for you to have described the urge for simplicity), the confident perfection of a space, space everywhere.
I guess I’ll just have to have themed rooms so I can let each facet get its own fix….
@Natalie – Ah, yes, those seductive white living rooms. They have seduced more than you know for all sorts of reasons.
At first blush, “focused indulgence” seems like an unresolved duality but once I sink into the level beneath, I see richness and kindness and a whole other landscape. And then your singing comes into focus and it all swirls together.
“And I’m tipsy”. That moment when you realize you’ve shifted your awareness from ‘in your head’ to ‘in your being’; senses alive and on fire and keenly aware.
You don’t need themed rooms. Think the complexity and emotional immediacy of your singing brought into 3D. Every room revealing crescendos and interludes. Hm. aesthetic consonance.
Also? You are deceptive cadence personified.
A side note: my parents met at a Humane Society meeting. I’m down with the faux.
Thank you. That was incredible. I couldn’t possibly let anyone else but you go near the glorious dressing up of my future pad now. Ever. x
I want to feel creative and carefree all the time! I don’t ever want to see the day my passion fades away. I want to feel connected with people, with humanity, with all the beautiful imperfections in this world.
Surprising lesson for me these past two years: I’m not aiming for happiness anymore. It’s getting to be mundane and safe for me personally. I’d rather aim for the bliss and joy in every moment. No, I don’t think I’ll get this every single second of my life. But that’s the beauty of it: once/if I do get it…oh man is it ever worth something. It makes you feel alive…and that’s how I want to feel.
@Bianca And there are imperfections, aren’t there? Devastatingly beautiful and rapturously painful all at once. But passion lives through this; maybe because of this.
Safety is subjective. I sense you’ve tasted the moment of letting go; the exquisite bliss found in the free fall otherwise it wouldn’t be teasing you.
Don’t chase. She finds you, lives through you, when you stop looking. And I would LOVE to see what that looks like for you.
How do I want to feel? Simple. I want to feel everything. A remarkable influx of desire, thoughtfulness, harmony, expansiveness, and acceptance in my own flesh. Balanced and centered. So maybe not so simple…
Let me begin in this manner. I do not WANT. I AM. To say ‘I want’ would be to say I haven’t found the heart of ME. ‘I want’ is the stuff of daydreams. It is fanciful, escapist, and a delicious decent into blissful creative license. Dream the biggest dream possible with wanting. Let it be all those dirty little secrets swirling in your head when it comes to your personal domain — the naughty boudoir lighting, the impractical wall of windows facing a spectacular unimpeded view, a well-stocked wine cellar, or the secret passages concealed in handsomely decadent bookcases (and how cliched is that!?) But really, that is the heart of wanting. It’s not the day-to-day, but the escape from it. As long as a thought is in the ‘I want’ stage, it can be modified at a whim to mirror the content of our secret desires or needs.
In five years, hell, in five weeks I won’t want or feel the same things. Maybe not even five minutes. (I am a horrible impulse shopper that way…Durnit!) So my space needs to say I AM. I am passionate. I am frivolous. I am creative. I am classic britcom humourous. I am comfortable. I am commanding… arresting… unpredictable… loyal to and proud of my roots. (Loyal and Proud?!! As a decorative representation? WTF… ah… but where else would children’s art and goofy family snaps fit?) Most assuredly I have children’s paintings framed and displayed beside striking water colours and aged landscapes. And snapshots. Tons of snapshots. They are the progression… the rich walk through the history of my life to date. I enjoy my journey. I am the woman finishing my basement gym, assuredly a place few will venture, before replacing the ancient Lady Kenmore range and retro (read: that 70′s show era UGLY!) brown laminate flooring. Why? Because I AM fit and strong and passionate about my health. It is a cornerstone of my being. It is where I find peace. My center. Getting a good sweat on puts everything in perspective. I am at my best then. So the gym comes first.
SO again. What will I feel in my space? Centered. Balanced. Free. There will be no outside expectations. No conforming to an image I want to present to visitors. Ah…there it is sneaking in again — I want. See? It will NOT be a representation of I WANT… because it will not be a dream. It will be my reality. I will feel a gauntlet of emotions daily, ride a carnival ride of thoughts and impressions, but my space will be balanced. ALL that I AM. Coming home will be a visual reminder of my center. ‘Nuff said!
And as to your wonderful site and venture…
Fabulous. May you always stay at the edge. And may you be around when I replace the Lady Kenmore and need a voice of reason to talk me out of any and all impulse purchases!!
With a virtual high-five…
Maggie
Hi, Erica!–
God, what a great post. And the depth of your commenters’ revelations here {!}.You’re really taking us someplace in this gorgeous space you’ve created. {I know you know I love your site design, but I’ve got to say it again. It’s just…*right*.}
How do I want to feel in my home/studio space/love nest? I want to feel sleek but highly textured. Nurtured and fascinated. Recognized and hidden. Comforted. I want to feel gentle mysticism, organic homey-ness, and luxe details. I was to feel soothed and enlivened. Lots of juxtapositions everywhere, I guess. That’s where I find myself and my best beings and doings, I think, in the mixing of oppositions.
Thank you for providing this space where we can get out of our heads a little bit and into our bodies and spirits. I’m liking it and cheering you on and on and on.
I second what Kelly Livesay said: your voice does smack a tinge of Kelly Diels. I also hear Danielle LaPorte. But it’s indubitably Erica Swanson.
I’ll leave a smiley face, too, and see where he ends up.
–Abby
@Maggie – I want to centre on the word ‘acceptance’ but that needs some settling, I think; time to resolve itself in our minds, our flesh, and our psyche. It is not so easy. Or simple.
So let’s touch on the “fanciful, escapist, delicious descent into blissful creative license”. THIS, for me, is the root of creation. Dirty little secrets and all. There is no room for shame here, in this space, and I am constantly having to learn to trust that.
It’s the time aspect, as well; we are constantly changing and evolving and I think our outer cocoon needs to reflect that. And it’s damn tough. Money and effort and babies and relationships and a constant inner-mind coming and going keeps us from making the changes as quickly as we want; I know this. So my greatest achievement comes in finding a way to express your insides in a way that will grow with you. Tricky, tricky shit I am not afraid to admit.
Interestingly, I think we’re ALL bracing ourselves against this sense of outward expectation. Home is where we get naked. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. Our home needs to reflect that sacredness.
Also? I find the Lady Kenmore sort of endearing. Sort of.
@Abby – Juxtapositions and dichotomies. mm. Richness and wisdom and empathy and understanding all take root from these, I think. And the beauty I am finding here is that we all seem to intuitively know this. I am basking in the gorgeousness.
My favourite: “Recognized and hidden”. Like a goddess that breathes in your ear and vanishes when you look for her. Like some of our most nourishing and enticing fantasies.
SO honored you stopped by.
I love my house and have felt its an expression of me. Your post got me thinking about me and who I am… and how fluid a concept that can seem some days. Other days (like when I’m around my mum and her ideas of me seem bigger than my own – where IS my sense of self in those moments?), it seems a more impermeable concept.
My space breathes with me – it’s there when I’m going solo – home alone, just me and Miss Mango, my ragdoll cat. It expands to welcome friends and makes them feel like they live here too (but not for too long). It welcomes, it beckons, some days it challenges (where DID all that dust come from, like overnight?). It’s the right place for the me I am right now.
This post made me stop, sit and feel what my space does and is for me. A rare moment in an otherwise ordinary day (Monday morning here in Australia). Bravo Erica.
(And thanks for your comments on David Risley’s post – that’s how I found you).
@Jill – BINGO. You just touched on an issue that is far larger than this post. We are a culmination of our experiences, our thoughts and how we shape our own view of ourselves. The latter, whether we recognize it or not, is shaped by how we ‘fit’ into the wider emotional landscape of our lives, the people we care for and the people we hold in esteem. Emotional power; and it is just that… POWERFUL.
But let’s drill it down again and focus on your comment; “my space breathes with me”. Gorgeous. And the most telling? “It challenges”… THIS I commend you for. THIS is at the root of my philosophy… our spaces protect us, nurture us, inspire us, seduce us, challenge us, confuse us, anger us, and mostly, reflect who we are and where we find ourselves.
Thank you for joining us.