Drawing for Interior Design by Drew Plunkett

I was not going to include this book in humanities or any other expertise sector, but the author, Drew Plunkett, is compelling me to resonate with some of the phrases and analogies he uses in this book to describe the nature, or perhaps some of the attributes of the designer and artist, which is why I decided to annotate this book, despite not being intended to do so, but just as many past, present, and future events and scenarios in life, they appear and shape you unexpectedly, which is where our cognitive versatility comes into place, hence the necessity to refine it on a daily basis: just as a warrior smithed his sword for the war on a daily basis back in antiquity, now in the present, one has to smith one's cognition and resilience by continuously learn and adapt to new expertises, aptitudes, and environments in order to survive in this mundane and crude world. I explain why I started reading this book in the article under the Architecture sector, My Room.

Designers tend, by nature, to worry about the aesthetic merit of everything they do, it is difficult not to tinker with a drawing once it seems that it might have some merit in its own right, even though the act of refining it can divert the mind from consideration of its content. It is always difficult to know exactly when a drawing is completed and has no more insights to yield. Perhaps it is only when it appears to be complete as an artefact that it becomes clear that there is nothing to be gained from pursuing it.

We, as artists or designers, tend to treat every single instance of our idiosyncratic creations as artefacts, which they literally are, just look at the definition and etymology of the word Artefact. Definition: an object made or modified by a human being, typically one of cultural or historical interest. Etymology: 1821, artefact, "artificial production, anything made or modified by human art," from Italian artefatto, from Latin arte "by skill" (ablative of ars "art;" see art (n.)) + factum "thing made," from facere "to make, do" (from PIE root *dhe- "to set, put"). Even the slightest shape drawn on paper is literally a piece of art, a reflection of our idiosyncratic selves materialized in the real world. This is why most artists and designers treat it as such—they understand its unique nature. It is quite hard to label it as "completed" so easily, we want such creation—despite its size, input, or importance to other project or purpose—to be as aesthetic and functional as possible. This, as Plunkett describes, makes the artist to tinker and divert the mind from consideration of its content, which might compel the artist to spend too much time on something that not necessarily contributes to the project in question, however, although this might seen as a waste of time or something to be avoided, I believe it is quite necessary, allow me to explain why: when one immerses in the aesthetic and functional nature of something, one not only enters the Flow state, enjoying, experimenting, and living the present at its apotheosis, but also refines the adjacent aspects of the project, and hence the overall project. Furthermore, in such a state, we comprehend and observe the mechanisms and nature of that aspect, which inevitably leads us to understand the overall project or phenomenon even further, better, clearer. I advocate for this practice, because even though some might see this practice as a waste of time, I see it as an instance of living to the fullest, where our human creativity, intellect, and art is vehemently expressed, and our comprehension of a phenomenon or an aspect of a phenomenon is incidentally refined.

Almost all interior-design projects require the insertion of the maximum possible accommodation into a space that was originally designed to contain some other function, and unstructured drawing can encourage counterproductive optimism. A solution carelessly conceived for an imagined long, low space will fail in the reality of a tall, narrow one.

This quote couldn't be more resonant. This is particularly a main reason why my life impetus has changed from programming to architecture, because the creative approach to something standardized, the dissent in a surrounding, where human art is artistically applied to make the established standard expected appearance look different. Architecture in that sense nurtures and promotes human art, human creativity, and human approaches as it allows the architect to establish unprecedented structural appeal to a structure.

First Read: March 22, 2025