When you’re driving, and you see a breathtaking scene, one that makes you pull over and stop. Do you wonder what it is that resonates within you? Is it the overlap of shadows? The subtle shifting colors? The structure of the trees or the rise of a hill? As architects and designers, these are a few of the thousands of questions we ask ourselves as we work. If only it stopped there. This incessant analysis bleeds into every object, surface and environment we encounter in our daily lives. You can’t imagine the discussion that goes into buying a glass – how does it feel in your hand? Is it too heavy? Too squat? Too round? Not round enough? Is it just serving a purpose? Or enhancing your life?
A blessing? Or the ‘Curse of Design’? This compulsion requires us to continually seek answers to those questions through a rigorous critique of color, finish, composition, quality, feel, and function.
How did we get here? Is this nature or nurture? Born cursed? Or cursed by education? As a 7-year-old I wrote in my diary “someday I will be an architect”. Was this genetic? Or too many Brady Bunch reruns?
Whatever innate personality traits we have are focused and refined by an education process that at best can politely be referred to as rigorous and often crosses the line into obsessive. Don’t get me wrong, while a curse, it provides for a highly curated life; an amazing experience of well-designed and presented clothing, accessories, home décor, vehicles and even food. We have a deep appreciation of the effort it takes to design an object well, and the moment of wonder and surprise felt at finding something special among the expected.
Good design is not a luxury. Good design balances the inherently functional with a sense of beauty. It is something that enhances your life and brings you joy. While we certainly wouldn’t wish our curse upon anyone, we do hope this will ignite a bit of inquiry the next time you hold a glass or smile as you pick up an object or feel content in a space you regularly frequent.