Hello.

Spaces influence our everyday experiences. They’re the stage on which life is sculpted— the backdrop of powerful memories. Connections between design, psychology, and the ability to evoke emotional responses when creating spaces drive my passion for studying interior design.

I have had a rare and fantastic opportunity to grow up around design –surrounded by it, immersed in it – it flows through my DNA as strong as any actual genetic code.

I have vivid sensory memories of running my hand across stacks of woven textiles at my dad’s architecture studio, stacking stone samples like a Jenga game, only in my version…they were sorted by texture and hue. Sentimental memories interplay with my interest in design, like the fascination of watching light catch and transform the colors of my grandmother’s costume jewelry—the first sparks of my deep interest in materials, ornamentation, lighting, and color.

In my father’s words, architecture, like art, is created to be experienced, not explained. With parents in design, I’ve grown up seeing the vivid details in our world,  questioning material choices, and experiencing design not only for its functionality and form, but how I feel and move about in a space. As I study interior design in a broader sense, I want to explore how we embrace the tension between history and progress in the context of design.

Recent experience with trauma has also inspired my exploration of how medical spaces create supportive environments, easing patient anxiety. I began experimenting with these concepts during a Summer Workshop in Nashville at Belmont University. My personal experience as a patient was the incubus of these broader concepts, layered with my ability to virtually grow up seeing hospital environments from a “backstage” perspective through my father’s role in design and planning in a major hospital.  

During my Belmont University Interior Concepts Workshop, the correlation between human emotion and how space influenced a person’s psyche informed a clinic concept project, illustrated in a 3-D handmade model.  The design’s focal point is its central courtyards ladened with foliage and flooded with natural light. Courtyard views permeate the space, establishing tranquility and healing. Humans have physical pain and emotional fatigue when sick. What response is induced when patients sit within four walls with little to focus on except their ailments? Can we spark patient’s resilience by creating sensory spaces stimulating positive constructs for healing? 

There is much to learn about the connection between designing spaces and the human experience; I’m eager for the next chapter in my education, where these ideas, and many others, will fuel my passion.