Echoes of the Atacama Desert
A few weeks ago, I found myself in the Atacama Desert, in Northern Chile and I am still designing from that place. Some destinations stay as memories, others quietly shift your perspective. The Atacama did the latter. It softened something in me, stripped things back, and reminded me why nature is always at the core of my design process.
What struck me first was the color palette. In person, it felt grounded and born of the place. Desert golds, chalky beiges, sun baked terracotta, muted rose, and deep volcanic browns unfolded across the landscape. Nothing competed for attention. Everything belonged. Since returning, I have been leaning into these tones more intuitively, warm neutrals layered with subtle variation, finishes that feel lived in rather than perfect. I am choosing materials that carry depth and quiet movement, plastered walls, stone with visible grain, woods that show their age and story.
Texture became impossible to ignore. The crunch of salt underfoot, the softness of sand, the roughness of ancient rock shaped by time. Back in the studio, I find myself prioritizing tactile materials, limewash finishes, woven textiles, hand thrown ceramics, raw stone. These elements bring a sensory layer to interiors, spaces you do not just see, but feel. Rooms that invite touch and feel grounding the moment you step inside.
Salar de Atacama - Atacama Desert - Chile
The atmosphere changed how I think about space. The desert is vast, yet it never feels empty. There is air, silence, and room to breathe. That sense of openness has followed me into my work. I am creating interiors that allow for pause, resisting the urge to fill every corner. Negative space has become a tool, not an absence. Rooms are designed to feel expansive, even when they are intimate, guided by proportion, light, and flow rather than excess.
Light in the Atacama is constantly shifting, and I carried that awareness home with me. Mornings feel crisp and clear, afternoons washed in brightness, evenings layered with warmth and shadow. This has influenced how I think about lighting design, softer transitions, warmer tones at night, allowing shadows to exist rather than over illuminating. I am more intentional about how natural light moves through a space, and how artificial light supports that rhythm rather than fighting it.
Some of the most memorable moments happened at dusk. Wrapped in layers, sitting outside as the temperature dropped, watching the sky move through shades of peach, lavender, and indigo. There was comfort in simplicity, presence, and quiet connection. That feeling has become a reference point. I am designing spaces that support slow moments, built in seating, layered textiles, rooms that invite you to linger rather than rush through.
Outskirts of San Pedro de Atacama- Chile
The Atacama did not give me a checklist of ideas. It gave me a feeling. One rooted in restraint, balance, and intention. Weeks later, I am still weaving those impressions into my work, letting nature guide my choices, and designing spaces shaped not just by what I see, but by what I experienced and remember.
All images credit: Virginie A.Nord