Category: Personal Blog

  • The Two-Hour Exam That Almost Made Me Quit

     

    I can still remember the first time I applied for an interior designer role back in 2020. I was brimming with excitement and hope. I had always envisioned myself creating meaningful spaces, imagining how people would react and connect within them. But what I thought would be my big break turned out to be an experience that almost broke me.

    I was called in for an interview. I finished the first part of the exam with ease, but the second part was the real challenge. We were given two hours to design a room with a coastal theme and provide a presentation—complete with a mood board, 3D images, and all the details.

    Two hours.

    With such limited time, I could only do so much. I never really had the chance to fully develop the design, and I left feeling like I had failed. It was clear as day that I wouldn’t be called back, and that experience made me question my abilities as a designer. For years, I stopped applying for designer roles because I felt unprepared and not good enough. That two-hour exam felt like a judgment of my entire potential.

    Imagine if only AI had been as accessible then as it is now.

    Fast forward to 2025, I decided to give it another try. This time, the companies I applied to allowed ample time to complete their design tasks. With realistic deadlines, I was able to approach the work thoughtfully and deliver designs I was proud of—work that truly reflected my skills and creativity.

    This experience highlighted a fundamental truth: quality design requires realistic timelines.

    Design is not simply about putting ideas on paper quickly; it involves thoughtful exploration, iteration, and refinement. Rushed projects often result in superficial or incomplete solutions that fail to unlock a space’s true potential. When designers are given adequate time, the results are better—not just aesthetically, but also in how a space functions and resonates with those who use it.

    In an industry that often moves at breakneck speed, it’s crucial to recognize that good work takes time. Both clients and designers benefit when timelines respect the design process, and allow creativity to unfold naturally.

    So if you’ve ever felt discouraged by an unfinished exam or an unsuccessful interview, remember this: your true potential can only flourish when given the space and time to grow. Don’t let one moment define your entire career. Even the toughest lessons are still valuable lessons.

  • Years in The Making: The Moment I Dropped The “Aspiring” And Finally Wore The Title

    For the longest time, the word “aspiring” lived in every bio I wrote and every job application I submitted. I was reaching for something just beyond my grasp—a creative role that aligned with what I knew, deep in my heart, I was meant to do.

    I’ve spent years working for designers, but never as one. I can’t count how many times I’ve gone back and forth, delaying my career shift simply because I chose stability over passion. But even then, my past jobs were a witness how much I longed to do creative work. Every time I was given the tiniest opportunity to design, I gave it 200%. And those moments didn’t go unnoticed as people in the room started to pay attention. But grateful as I was, I still craved more: more creative freedom, more chances to build and design. Because somewhere inside, I was still that person dreaming of becoming more.

    Looking back at every decision I made over the past month, they may have seemed calculated, like I had it all mapped out. But the truth is, it was a quiet leap of faith. I had no guarantees, just a gut feeling that it was finally time to bet on myself. And I did.

    Now, I’ve finally crossed something off my bucket list that had been sitting there for what felt like a lifetime: to become a designer.

    It still feels surreal to say it out loud. After years of channeling all my creative energy into personal projects—most of which existed only in my mind or stayed tucked away in my notebooks—I now get to bring ideas to life in the real world. And not just on the side, but as my actual full-time job.

    Just a week in, I’ve already poured out more creativity than I have in ages. And not because someone told me to. But because the creative thirst that I’ve carried for so long finally had a place to go. A real, professional outlet. One that values it. One that invites it.

    I guess this is what happens when you’ve been dreaming of designing for so long, and the stars finally align. When your work begins to match your dreams, you don’t just show up; you soar. You make the best out of every opportunity because you know what it’s like to wait. And to want.

    To anyone still writing “aspiring” in their bio, don’t stop. Your moment will come. And when it does, it will be everything you hoped for, and more.

  • Design That Listens

    Recently, I came across a series of projects by a well-known designer with a massive online following. Their work was bold, creative, and instantly recognizable—an impressive portfolio that clearly demonstrated a strong personal style. But as I kept scrolling, something stood out to me: most, if not all, of their projects looked quite the same.

    It’s not unusual for designers to develop a certain style. In fact, a distinct style can be a strength. Think of Zaha Hadid’s sweeping curves and bold geometric designs, Frank Gehry’s sculptural and fragmented forms, or Le Corbusier’s raw and brutalist approach. These architects have carved out these unique visual languages that have now become synonymous with their names.

    But when every project starts to feel like a variation of the last, especially in residential, it raises an important question: who is the design really for?

    I believe that a designer’s role should shift depending on the project, especially in residential work.

    Homes are deeply personal. They should reflect the people who live in them—their routines, preferences, culture, and dreams. Designers should act as translators, not authors. Their job is to listen closely to their clients, understand their vision, and co-create a space that feels uniquely theirs.

    As you grow in this profession, you should learn that good design is all about balance: knowing when to step forward and when to step back to let someone else’s story shine. Remind yourselves that the best architecture is not always the most recognizable, but the kind that responds to why (intention), where (context) and who (people) it’s for.

    Remember, the most successful projects may not carry a signature—but they speak volumes about the people they were made for.

    And that, to me, is the highest form of design.

  • The Design Problem No One’s Talking About

    Taken on May 11, 2024 — a quick escape to the red sand dunes of Riyadh. A moment of stillness away from the daily hustle, where time slowed down and the desert whispered calm. This core memory now serves as inspiration for an interior centered on wellness, reflection, and serenity.  (https://creative3darq.com/beneath-the-dunes/)

     

    There was a time when every project started with an idea, a story, a purpose. Designs had depth. It wasn’t just about how things looked, but how they respond to people and real problems.

    But in today’s digital age, where inspiration is just a scroll away, we are witnessing a quiet erosion of that depth.

    Platforms like Pinterest and Behance used to be great for sharing ideas and inspiring creativity. Now, they’ve become echo chambers of aesthetics, where the algorithm favors beauty over meaning. And as a result, design often feels like it’s being shaped less by context or intention, and more by trends and templates. Everything might look different, but they all kind of feel the same.

    Of course, there’s nothing wrong with beauty. But when form consistently outweighs function, and style overshadows narrative, we begin to lose what made design powerful in the first place: its ability to connect. Even the simplest concept, when rooted in meaning, can be impactful.

    Technology has made it easier and faster to produce designs. With AI tools, plugins, and endless visual inspiration, anyone can make something that looks good in no time. But by moving so quickly, we often skip the slower, more thoughtful parts of the process—the parts that give a design real meaning and depth.

    So where do we go from here?

    Maybe it’s about time we slow down. To think deeper. Ask more questions before opening the software:

    “What is this design responding to?”
    “Who is it for?”
    “What story is it telling?”

    Because the best designs aren’t just the ones that look good—they’re the ones that carry a story worth sharing.