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 infinite ‘outer space’, so ‘cosy’ is my where I’m comfy.
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 a multi-sensory approach with these things, 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 called Marfans syndrome. From the outside he’s a normal looking, functioning, human being. Inside it’s a bit different and his health is a living case of whack-a-mole - without the whacking. A year hasn’t gone by without a health or surgical intervention, and our lives, home and relationship have had to change to accommodate each one. From his heart to his toes, everything needs adapting and attention, at the right time, a bit like our homes. For someone that convalesces a lot, our home is a much needed sanctuary and we’ve had to get clear over the years about what we need, when and where.
When I met my husband, it was less than an hour before we started talking about how much we loved doing up properties and we were decorating our first property together before we hit our one year anniversary. He works in property, is very practical and just gets how things work. I watched my mum do up hotels and properties from a young age, usually asking me for my take. Home is where my heart is and I can see and feel how and idea will be in reality. Our idea of a good date is a DIY project. I am never happier than when things just work and feel as they should, we both struggle to rest in a space if they don’t.
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. 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, which effected his sensory experience and that profoundly effected how he felt in a space, and subsequently how we all felt and familied.
Many post-surgery, cataract’s patients experience “halo’s”, like the band of light you see around the sun when you look at it (which you shouldn’t do). Some can see it around every light source; lights, lamps, car headlights, candles… for some it’s short lived and for some its not. The sight that we all take for granted became a source of dysregulation for my husband, particularly when unnatural light was in contrast to dark (at night, in a dark painted room) and the recalibration that some experience in the weeks after, my husband has experienced in the 6 years since.
Advances of science, technology and societal awareness have enabled us to regain things like our sight and our ability to walk, but there is a common misconception that people then don’t have to struggle with physical issues anymore, but the reality is they do, just differently.
Whilst most people consider a hearing aid as a solution for people hard of hearing, enhancing all noise (as does a hearing aid) can make hearing a trigger. So, where people with cataracts can struggle with background colour and a rooms natural light, hard of hearing patients can struggle with background noise and the rooms natural acoustics. We have both in my family and going out can be a bit of a minefield. So our home really is where we are most of the time.
Public spaces can be a feast for the senses and are notoriously tricky for people with sensory difference or change. Some people will walk in to a room of bright colours and feel energised and some will walk in and feel attacked. Even if we love feeling energised, it can have a negative impact in a bedroom or place we want to relax in.
We all understand, and are likely dabbling with, the benefits of changes to diet, exercise, stress, sleep, fresh air, spending time with loved ones…especially around times of recovery 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 interiors, and how it affected us all differently.
When I got clear on it, it wasn’t just my husband who was benefitting from it, it was me and my daughter also. I am much more aware of my nervous system these days, and the effects that our surroundings have on it, but until it impacts us so negatively and 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. 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.
This is how every designer works - but this conversation gets lost in the pictures we see in media because the feel can’t be felt or often articulated on a page.
Whilst it’s exciting to imagine painting your living room sage green like it is to imagine wearing a green dress, the reality is, there is more information online about what objectively looks cool than what works for you - because you’re unique and so is your home and needs.
Most people can’t change the colour of their 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. And that’s why I do what I do.
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 and when that happens I’m aware of how to bridge the gap.
The home we had moved in to 5 years previously, a relatively ‘cosy’, east-to-west facing, 2-up-2-down cottage, had normal ceiling heights and cottagey sized rooms and windows. I decided (one dreary afternoon) to paint the already cosy living room 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 quickly became apparent that my cosy cocoon was a near nightmare for him and our 2-room abode needed a re-think.
Mistakes always teach us something (the worst case scenario; a dimly-lit and vividly coloured room) and we initially got by having the ‘main lights’ on. However, for me this brought about my own triggers; 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 for a while with a growing child and more surgeries. 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 the last 5 years to increase the light in our home and to extend it to help. It requires 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. Where we are restricted on light. 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.
