Welcome to my design journey

There’s something deeply meaningful to me about the spaces we inhabit — how they hold us, shape us, and quietly influence the way we move through our days.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve found joy in transforming spaces into places that feel both beautiful and deeply functional. I often think of design as a kind of unfolding puzzle — especially in smaller spaces, where every decision matters, and where intention has the power to create harmony, ease, and a sense of belonging.

But for me, space-making has never only been about aesthetics. It’s about people.

The spaces we create don’t exist in isolation — they ripple outward. They shape how we gather, how we rest, how we connect. A thoughtfully designed space can invite conversation, nurture creativity, and foster a quiet sense of community. In this way, design becomes something more than visual — it becomes relational.

This understanding is rooted in where I come from.

I grew up in a family of makers. My father, a sculptor. My mother, endlessly skilled in textiles and the shaping of spaces. Between the four of us siblings, there’s a shared ability to turn almost any material into something meaningful — something beautiful, something functional. It’s a way of seeing the world that was woven into our everyday lives.

We were always building, making, transforming. Homes were reimagined, spaces constantly evolving, and there was never a shortage of tools — sewing machines humming, pottery wheels spinning, woodwork benches waiting to be explored. We learnt by doing, by observing, by creating alongside one another.

Only later did I come to understand how rare and valuable that kind of upbringing is — to be surrounded by creativity, and to experience it not as something separate, but as a natural part of living.

After years of sketching ideas onto scraps of paper and quietly reworking spaces in my mind, I chose to formalise this instinct by completing my Diploma in Interior Design. What draws me most is the process of distillation — gently uncovering the essence of a person and shaping a space that reflects it. Often, this means working with less. Smaller spaces, when thoughtfully designed, have a way of giving more back — freeing up time, energy, and attention for the life that unfolds within them.

Putting myself to the test

Further along this path, I had the opportunity to step into a more public and demanding expression of this work.

Together with my brother-in-law, Johann — a structural engineer — I took part in Klein Paradys, a reality DIY competition on KykNET. As one of six selected teams, we were tasked with transforming a 3 × 7 metre light steel frame into a fully realised, high-end guest micro-unit in just 25 days.

It was intense, stretching, and deeply rewarding.

From the beginning, I felt drawn to the philosophy of Wabi Sabi — the quiet beauty found in imperfection, simplicity, and the natural passage of time. This became our anchor. We worked with raw, honest materials, softened by an earthy palette, allowing the space to feel grounded and calm. The boundary between indoors and outdoors was gently dissolved, inviting the surrounding landscape to become part of the experience.

Every texture, every asymmetry, every handmade detail was intentional — not polished to perfection, but allowed to breathe. The result was a space that felt restorative, unpretentious, and quietly luxurious.

With limited resources and very little sleep, we poured ourselves into the process. And in the end, we were honoured to win!

Our micro-unit, ASEM, now lives at Old MacDaddy — an open invitation to step away from the noise of daily life and into a space shaped by stillness, simplicity, and care.

My design style, taking shape

Over time, my approach to design has become more intuitive, but also more grounded.

I’m drawn to the interplay between old and new — repurposing pieces that carry history or meaning, and placing them alongside contemporary elements and natural materials. I enjoy the balance of contrasts: feminine and masculine, soft and structured, refined and raw. When held together well, these elements create a kind of quiet rhythm within a space.

At the heart of my work is a process of gentle transformation.

Together, we reimagine what a space can be. We distil what truly matters. We let go of what no longer serves. And slowly, we shape an environment that reflects who you are — and supports the way you want to live, connect, and grow.

Because in the end, a well-made space doesn’t just look beautiful.

It allows you to live more fully within it.