Who Is Design Meant For?
Humans wake in the morning, fall into routines. Put on suits, put on masks. Cross the threshold of their home and step into someone else — the accountant, the nurse, the project manager, the executive, the singer, the teacher... They become the role, the title on the door, the name on the badge, the image that meets the world. And somewhere in that crossing, something gets left behind.
But behind all that, there is the lover, the husband, the mother, the grieving friend. The gardener with dirt still under her nails. The new parent, sleep-deprived. The one caring for a sick neighbour. The seeker of meaning, of purpose, of love. The one longing for someone, for something to hold onto, to belong.
Creating not for the roles, not for the masks, but for the one behind — the one who rarely gets to show up. The one who waits. Who longs. The true. The real. The one the space could finally hold, nurture.
This is when design serves. When we move beneath what we see to meet who is actually there. When a room becomes more than walls and objects — when it becomes a place where someone can finally exhale, finally arrive, finally show up. This is when structures hold, when they heal, when they foster belonging.
Design, at its best, remembers who was forgotten at the threshold.
With Joy and Delight!