designing a life that can still shift

I’ve got walls covered in art, mostly my own (is that weird? it’s the only way I can really tell if I like a piece). There are thrifted finds scattered across our home instead of new, shiny, expensive and ultimately meaningless items. Paint swatches live on the bulletin board where busy schedules might otherwise be. There are piles of books, local half-burnt candles, thriving plants and, for some reason, measuring tapes sitting beside grapefruits on the dining table.

When I look around, I see small, imperfect snapshots of what I’ve always wanted my life to look like: centred around art and stories. Not finished, not polished, just lived in. And still open to changing shape at any moment.

When I was younger, someone shared with me what they called a “bill of rights.” Not the kind tied to governments or declarations, but something much more personal: the Bill of Assertive Rights from Manuel J. Smith. One line, in particular, stayed with me:

You have the right to change your mind.

Something in me unlocked when I read that. It felt like permission I didn’t know I had been waiting for.

That single idea has followed me ever since: through relationships, day plans, painting processes, career paths, friendships, health, and, more recently, design. It has softened the pressure to get things “right” the first time. It has reminded me that I’m allowed to adjust, to rethink, to begin again.

In design, it’s changed the way I see a space entirely. Instead of aiming for a finished, fixed version of a home, I find myself drawn to spaces that evolve, spaces that reflect the people living in them. Layers added slowly. Things moved around. Pieces kept, others let go. A home that feels like a conversation rather than a conclusion.

As I find my footing with Niksen Moods Studio and imagine where it might go, I come back to that same line again and again. I feel reassured, relieved, even, knowing I can course correct as I gather more information, more experience, more clarity.

Maybe the goal isn't to arrive at something final, maybe it’s to stay close enough to yourself to know when something no longer fits and to trust that you’re allowed to change it.