Have you ever entered a place and had an immediate emotional, physical or psychological reaction? Maybe it’s a feeling of happiness, or constraint, ethereal lightness, darkness, oppression, peaceful calm…but something affects you, something you cannot immediately identify. Maybe you ask why?

The why is design.

My appreciation for design was sparked early, though pursuing it as my day job definitely took some time. Sometimes I wonder why it took me so long to land here but if I’m honest each of my stops on the path, albeit circuitous, prepared me to fully embrace and enjoy my #DesignLife.

First Stop: Seeing Possibility in the Chaos

My appreciation for space planning and design is born from early childhood experiences. One of four siblings, I grew up in a small house in the Oregon countryside—a house with a single bathroom for a pack of girls enveloped in a cloud of Aqua Net that smelled like Bonne Bell lip Smackers. Finding a way to make a small sliver of space my own was a constant mission—I was obsessed with organization and finding calm in the smallest ways. Laying claim to a small drawer, organizing my nail polish and lip gloss, setting an alarm to wake up earlier than my sisters to have a few precious moments alone—the tiniest of actions—felt like enormous victories. With each success my appreciation for well-designed personal space was seeded.

After university, my first grown-up job was in a news station in Hawaii. A story in juxtaposition. Steps from the sun-filled beaches of Waikiki, the station was located in a one-story cinder block building with dubious air conditioning and no outside windows. Filled past the point of fire codes, and bordering on an episode of hoarders, desks were crammed together with research files, video tapes, camera equipment and various lost and not yet found items—the design concept could only be described as chaotic. Of course I would love to tell you I designed the space and everyone saw the error of their disorganized ways…but there was a deadline, so it remained a design dream for another day.

Next Stop: Communal Working and Global Travel

A few years later in San Francisco, I tried on the world of finance. If you immediately imagined a high rise building and a field of cubicles, you’d be pretty spot on. The first year as an analyst was a lesson in communal working. Long hours, late nights and early mornings spent elbow to elbow with my fellow analysts—every detail of our personal life was on public record as there wasn’t even an attempt to create privacy.

Promotion meant moving to a higher floor and a shared office. Two desks and a glass wall that gave everyone a front row seat to whatever you were doing. The only thing separating this office from a fishbowl was the lack of water. Hierarchy reigned and the senior banker occupied the rear desk, while the junior banker had to sit front and center, not only in view to those walking by, but with a senior banker sitting directly behind seeing every click of your mouse.

Ok, it wasn't all bad. My confined space lesson extended to airplanes and lots of travel. I saw many different ways people created their spaces in the world, and as I began capturing images of those places, my passion for people’s stories and their space in the world deepened with each new stamp in the passport. On every work trip I explored tourist sites, museums, restaurants, galleries, farmers markets, craft fairs—anywhere there could be something beautiful or unique to see.

These moments were jolts of creativity for my brain, and every once in a while I found a unique piece to bring back to my office apartment. A memory of a place and a touchstone that reminded me that there was a world outside of my work life. In India, it was a stone Buddha that although not very large, made up for its small size in weight and had to be carried back from Mumbai in my overstuffed carry-on bag, with his serene face protruding out of the zippered top.

When not traveling for work, I found myself drawn to a small floral kiosk outside my office building. The florist offered single blooms, which I would bring to my office and place in an abandoned bud vase that had been liberated from the office kitchen. Interspersed with my file folders and research documents, I would place the smallest of plants (succulents seemed to survive through the long periods of work travel and sporadic care), to add an element of greenery to my fishbowl. These small items brought joy to an otherwise drab environment.

Then it was back to grad school. Two years spent in a psychology research lab provided yet more first-hand experience with communal working in close cramped quarters with no ventilation—and how university research treats students like experimental rats. This was the era, my love for unique personal space was sparked…most likely since I was lacking it entirely.

Finally, I found my way to design.

Just kidding.

Last Stop: #DesignLife

My final stop before embracing my #DesignLife found me working for a real estate investment firm that purchased abandoned homes, before renovating and reselling them.

As part of a small team, my job was loosely defined as “anything that needs to be done.” Anything and EVERYTHING: identifying properties, analyzing financials, changing locks, hiring contractors, planting flowers, vetting realtors, furniture staging—you get the idea.

Rehabilitating these dilapidated and uncared for properties and turning them into something useful with some attention to detail was incredibly fulfilling. And that is the moment #DesignLife was born.

#EverydayBeautiful: The Destination

Once I knew that design was my path, it was important to build a strong foundation. I needed to understand the principles of classical design. After all, you can’t break the rules until you know what they are.

So I returned to the classroom. I attended UC Berkeley Extension to finish an Interior Design and Architecture program. There I was able to experiment and find my design style. With each assignment, my passion and excitement grew. I appreciated the story each design reflected. I loved the part of the assignment that was getting to know the client and what they were attempting to achieve with their design. Creating something that was uniquely them truly fueled me in way that I hadn’t experienced before and I knew I had found my place…centered in #DesignLife.

Today as the owner and principal designer for Amber Lowi Designs, I work with clients to design their unique place in the world that reflects their life stories and provides a place to create new ones. I believe in the power of good design to create a better world; that the goal of design is not to take it so seriously—having a spirit of playfulness and surprise; and that as a designer, I have a moral obligation to leave the world a little more beautiful everyday.