Life and Colour
I grew up knowing that I felt differently in different spaces.
It was something that my mother always reminded me of and I have spent most of my adult life working to understand the many aspects of my experience of space; physically, emotionally and metaphorically. Spoiler alert, my biggest fear is the concept of ‘outer space’, and as such ‘cosy’ is my jam (Gen Z; jam is Millenial for ‘vibe’).
Life choices and curveballs have landed me in certain spaces for long periods of time and whilst some things (children, covid, ill-health) taught me to hone my understanding of this from an interiors perspective, it wasn’t until interiors became an actual hindrance in my life that understanding colour, light and design went from something nice to something necessary. And it’s how I see and work with them today.
My husband has a genetic condition known as Marfans syndrome. From the outside he’s a normal looking, functioning, taller member of society. Inside, he has quite the juggle and his life is a living case of whack-a-mole. Since the year after we met, a year hasn’t gone by without a health or surgical intervention, and each time our lives, home and relationship have had to change to accommodate it. From his heart to his toes, everything needs attention, at the right time, a bit like we see our homes these days, and for someone that convalesces a lot, our home is a much needed sanctuary - and it’s got it’s own restrictions and challenges. We’ve had to get clear over the years about what we need, where and when and it’s felt at times like we’ve been the only ones in our peer group doing it.
The night I met my husband, it was less than an hour before we started talking about how much we loved doing up properties and subsequently he and I were decorating our first purchased property together before we hit our one year anniversary. He works in property and understands what’s possible, how to do it and lives by doing the right thing, even if it’s the most long-winded. Homes are where my heart is and I’ve loved soft development and interiors from a teenager, seeing my mum do up up properties as a small business. Our idea of a great date is a DIY project; my husband is the man that can do (almost) anything, I am the ideas woman. And out house and life continues to throw stuff at us to learn from…
I didn’t know much about cataracts until my husband was diagnosed with it just after we had our first child. Usually experienced as a milkiness or haziness to one’s vision, it generally requires surgery to correct the lens, which he had on both his eyes at 35. Given the other operations he had had and how busy life had become with a baby, we hadn’t anticipated the change in our life after the cataracts surgery but it became apparent to us, quickly, that what things looked like wasn’t the issue. His new lenses now experienced light and colour differently, and that profoundly effected how he felt in a space, and subsequently how we all felt and familied wherever we were.
Many post-surgery, cataract’s patients experience “halo’s”, which are a bit like that band of light you see around the sun when you look at it (which you probably haven’t done since you were 6 and they told you not to do it for fear of going blind). The problem is, they see it around every light source; lights, lamps, car headlights, candles… and it rocks their nervous system (not in a good way, and all day)... and it’s particularly bad when the light is in contrast to a darker background (at night, in a dark painted room).
With the advances of science, technology and specialism in every field, there is a common misconception that people don’t have to struggle with physical issues anymore, but the reality is they do.
My mother-in-Laws partner is almost deaf and whilst most people think a hearing aid can fill in the ‘hearing gap’, a hearing aid enhances all noise, including background noise and pitch that normal hearing naturally works with. So, like cataracts patients can struggle with background colour and light, hard of hearing patients can struggle with background noise and and pitch. (I’m yet to find an abundantly, naturally lit restaurant with a carpet and soft furnishings, with no background music on to enjoy a meal out with my husbands family so if anyone knows of one, please do get in touch!)
Our surroundings are stimulating, and not always in a good way - and what is good for one person, isn’t for the next. How we understand our needs is key to get clear on what we surround ourselves with; this accounts for people as well as interiors.
For many people that go through any surgery, there is a transition phase to recalibrate to the new norm. My husband has been through no fewer than 12 general anaesthetic surgeries and is well versed in the recalibration phase, but this was different. Whilst he was delighted to be able to see his daughter now properly, as a much younger than the average cataracts patient with uniquely large lenses (bigger than the size of the new ones they replace it with) his new lenses didn’t adequately cover the old ones (and they don’t make them bigger) and so it’s been 6 years of recalibrating and learning...
We’ve all heard about and are likely dabbling with the benefits of changes to diet, exercise, stress, sleep, fresh air, spending time with loved ones… but until 6 years ago, I hadn’t seriously considered how much we’d all benefit from understanding colour and light in our home and how it affected us all differently. And when I got clear on it, it wasn’t just my husband who was benefitting from it, it was me and my daughter also. Societally, we are much more aware of our nervous system, and the effects our surroundings have on it, but until it impacts any of us so negatively and so regularly, we don’t always seek to see, understand or work with it.
We had to make changes to our home and everyday life. It started as something we had to address and has since become second nature, to understand how a space feels, for each of us. What I have learned is that the input in to a space changes for many reasons, but the backdrop is static and it plays a huge part. I’d see interiors inspo on social media and understand that I was coming at it with a different lens (literally). I wasn’t trying to recreate looks, I was trying to figure out what worked for the space with the goal of how we wanted to feel in it. Whilst it’s exciting to imagine painting your living room sage green like it is to imagine wearing a fancy floral summer outfiit the reality is, there is more information about what looks cool in your living room than what your living room needs to feel how you want it to. Most people can’t change walls as cost effectively or quickly as an outfit; deciding interiors is a longer lasting and more expensive affair and it’s a minefield to get right for the required investment of time and or money.
As such, I am continually reminded that trying to recreate something that I see somewhere else, in my own life or home, doesn’t often feel how I thought it would but that equally doesn’t mean what feels good has to be far from what looks good. It’s an ever-changing dynamic and our homes are always evolving as we incorporate things in to our lives. Sometimes we get to a time in our life where things don’t seem to feel like they fit so well together and when that happens I’m aware of how to bridge the gap now.
The home we had moved in to 5 years previously is a relatively ‘cosy’, east-to-west facing, 2-up-2-down cottage. The first time I viewed it I already loved its’ location and cottagey-ness, so was relieved to find normal ceiling heights inside as my husband’s 6ft 3 stature does not generally find comfort in a cottage. Having a 3.3m square box for a living room with a relatively small, conservation east facing window I decided (on dreary afternoon) to paint the room in the deep, cocooning colour of Farrow and Ball’s Inchyra Blue. I revelled in it’s combination with my already existing mustard yellows on soft furnishings and felt pleased with myself for nailing it with dark vivid colours rather than the age-old idea of small spaces demanding light walls. Of course, not long after this my husbands surgery happened and it became apparent very quickly that my cosy cocoon was a near nightmare for him and our 2-room abode needed a re-think.
The upside was, some of my home decor ideas provided us with an understanding of the the worst case scenario (a dimly-lit and vividly coloured room) and we initially got by with always having the ‘main light’ on in a room. However, for me this brought about my own nervous response; where growing up, ‘the main light’ was saved for emergencies and passive aggressive communication, ‘mood lighting’ was my mainstay (but my husbands nemesis.) Life was a bit bumpy getting used to so much change - outside of the constant change and phases of a growing child - and it seemed like more change than the bigger surgeries he had experienced. On the rare occasion we’d get out for an evening to go for dinner, we’d end up walking straight out of it…we ended up stopping drinking at home and then everywhere and only going out in summer but eventually it forced us to get really specific about the feels and what we needed in any given space and time of day and we found a new normal.
It might seem obvious to most people that moving house would the best option and it has been on the cards for the whole time since we’ve lived here. Long story short, in a decade of looking we are yet to find a plot and location that works (for hospitals, family and work) that we love as much as we do currently (and can afford). So, as someone who likes a challenge, operation light and airy, but cosy cottage, with a less than light an airy box to play with commenced, and continues today.
We have had a plan for about the last 5 years to increase the light in our home and to extend it to help. It has required us to get many ducks in a row and I have ached over every inch of the design of the house to understand the best combination that will work for us with all the restrictions we have personally and through our conservation and green belt planning restrictions. We can’t change the size of the windows (we live in a strict conservation area) but we have done as many things as we can to bring light in, where it’s needed, and decoration and design does the rest. We’ve learned more intuitively about the needs of a home. We have literally felt our way through it. It’s how I naturally operate now and what felt like an annoying shift to have to make, I am now aware of how grateful I am for the skill it has given me.
I have seen and experienced how we work with light and colour and what impact that has on a room and home - and how working with them differently can bring a different feel. And that’s what I will continue to work on.
