At this point, in our steady pace across the twenty-first century, the modern and ultra-modern are the staple of interior design, and well they should be. As we advance the technologies around us, creating ever more simplified shapes with incredibly amplified functions, they no doubt reflect ourselves, with our shrinking but more efficient brains, some of us trying to encase it in a sleeker, less wrinkled visage and package, just like our gadgets. But I digress… We like things to match, to belong naturally, and so with the evolution of our gadgets and ourselves, we’ve made a new micro-world to fit.
Whether they’re our home or our workplace, we strive to make the spaces we inhabit, though perhaps unconsciously, cold and sterile, to possibly combat the ever increasing climate temperature and our fear of germs? Just a thought… Despite this, there is something we keep bringing into this minimalist environment we created for ourselves that we just cannot let go of, and it happens to be neither cold, nor sterile, but quite the opposite. We like to think of ourselves living this ultra-modern lifestyle, yet in order for us to actually feel comfortable in our new surroundings, we invite the primitive.
It’s inherent in ourselves to escape our quarters, to experience nature and the outside. So we conveniently bring it indoors, safely, and under control.
From an orchid in full bloom to a fiddle-leaf fig tree, from an ornamental stone bowl to a sheepskin rug, or from bigger windows to let light and color in, to the warmness of hardwood floors, we just can’t let go of our primitive connection to the outside wilderness, and remain sane, I guess. We need it as much as we realise lately that we need to eat organic and healthy again, in order to function properly.
A Google search of “minimalist interior” will yield a collection of this combination in varying proportions. But you will also stumble on a few images, that are missing the friendly primitive, and those spaces are the exact opposite of that, friendly. They look so uninviting. You don’t want to touch anything out of fear of everything collapsing all around you because the space itself does not agree with your warm and fleshy self. Of course, a lot of people prefer the complete sterile environment and that’s fine. Freaks… Anyway, by adding just a wood floor, or a plant, already the space is transformed. They are your link, telling you it’s okay, it’s safe here.