The Garden Room has become one of the most meaningful spaces in our home.
From the beginning, it was designed as a place to hold light — a room with expansive windows, garden views, and a sense of openness even during the darker months of the year. Floor-to-ceiling mullioned windows draw in natural light from multiple angles, allowing the space to shift gently throughout the day.
While conceived as a sitting room, it has gradually become an extension of my studio practice, particularly in winter. On colder days, I often work here with the fireplace lit — fibre spread across the table, light filtering in from the surrounding windows. The warmth of the fire and the cool natural light create a balance that feels both grounding and expansive.
Greenery plays an important role in the atmosphere of the room. Potted plants at varying heights soften the architectural lines and echo the surrounding landscape beyond the glass. Even in the quiet of winter, the presence of living plants maintains a connection to growth and seasonality.
Material choices in this space lean toward texture rather than ornament — woven fabrics, natural wood, subtle patterning. A central light fixture anchors the lofted ceiling, while comfortable seating allows the room to transition between working, reading, and quiet pause.
In many ways, the Garden Room embodies what I hoped this home would become: a fluid space where domestic life and creative practice overlap. It is not a formal studio, yet it supports making. It is not strictly a sitting room, yet it invites stillness.
Below are a selection of images that informed the development of this room — spaces that balance greenery, texture, warmth, and light in ways that felt aligned with our vision.
The relationship between light, warmth, and texture here continues to influence how I approach fibre work — particularly during the darker seasons, when atmosphere becomes even more pronounced.
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