Now, an element of my work is the design of experiences - for boutique hotels and independently - with the intention for people to achieve personal growth and healing, connection, wisdom, and a deep connection to the universe.

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The body receives healing through every sense, yet we often underestimate the powerful ways nature combines scent and sound to provide deep energetic healing. Together, they define atmosphere — influencing memory and emotions in ways that are transformative, immediate and deeply personal.

Both scent and sound are processed in areas of the brain closely linked to memory and emotion, including the limbic system. Smell can trigger immediate and vivid responses, while sound shapes rhythm, focus and emotions over time.

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The Abundance scent mentioned in my previous post is a catalyst to a larger experience launching at the end of August around the Sturgeon full moon. An important element of the experience is sound.

That’s where the hum of bees comes in.

Bees are the ultimate manifestation of abundance and have been regarded as sacred messengers between worlds. Some alternative and holistic theories highlight the conceptual parallel between the Earth’s “heartbeat” and the low-frequency vibrations bees use to maintain colony coherence. This resonance has positive effects on the nervous system.

Not to mention, this resonance of the bees is correlated to the earth’s frequency.

The entirety of the experience is thoughtful and layered - from the humming sound of the bees, in accordance with singing bowls, and deep inhales of the piñon-inspired scent we created. Collectively, the intention for this experience is simple: to create an atmosphere that enhances immersion, creates emotional depth, and supports a recalibration.

If you can, join us. An invitation to surrender and allow…

Join us.

Throughout the span of recorded human history, pinecones have been a symbol of human enlightenment, resurrection, eternal life and regeneration. Traces of pines can be dated back to 153 million years ago.

New Mexico is home to several native pine trees, most notably the Piñon Pine, Ponderosa Pine, and Southwestern White Pine. If you’ve been on a hike with me, you’re well aware of my obsession with the Ponderosa Pine. It’s an intoxicating smell that reminds me of eating Werther’s Original caramel candies from my grandmother’s jar. Addictive to say the least.

The pinecone is one of Mother Nature’s most compelling organic symbols - and deeply connected to the Pineal Gland. Our “Pine”al Gland, shaped like (and named after!) the Pinecone, is at the center of our brain and is linked to our body’s perception of light. It is the “seat of the soul”. Sometimes I play the solfeggio frequency of 963Hz to activate this gland (apparently, it helps!).

I am working with friend and scent formulator, Roxana of Illuminated Perfume, to create a scent associated with Prosperity and Abundance for our upcoming scent and sound journey. Living in New Mexico, and understanding the prosperous properties of this plant, we naturally agreed piñon should be the headliner. The pine cone’s spiral structure symbolizes the spiral of life, representing the cycles of growth, rebirth, and abundance in nature - not to mention the aforementioned symbolism of this sacred plant.

This scent will weave into a larger experience incorporating the sense of sound and space. Specifically, the resonance of bees: the ultimate symbol of abundance.

If you’d like to join us for this experience, you can find out more here. The scent will be available to purchase at the end of this month.

I am working on experience design, centered around healing and wellbeing, for a new hotel in the vast Arizona desert. In this work, I’m drawn to creating experiences centered around the sky above and the earth below - like stargazing and sun gazing. And as I’ve learned more about the benefits of each, I’ve become increasingly interested in the idea of gazing—not just as something we do, but as a way of paying attention.

Flying home from a work trip in Montana, I had a few delays, which left me with some unexpected downtime. I found a seat at an airport restaurant and decided to take a break from my screen. Instead, I simply watched the people around me.

As I looked around the space of this airport restaurant, my eyes met with a fellow traveler for a moment - which felt much longer than a moment.

It struck me how uncommon that feels. We spend so much time looking at screens that sustained eye contact with a stranger can feel surprisingly unfamiliar - even intimate. For a brief moment, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of another person.

It made me wonder how often we really gaze anymore. Not just glance or scroll, but actually look—with curiosity, attention, and without distraction.

Throughout history, gazing has been part of many contemplative practices, from candle or fire gazing meditations, to looking up at the night sky. These practices encourage stillness by giving the mind a single point of focus, which is rare in our current attention-grabbing world.

An admired maker, Haze “[candles are a] source of light that illuminates darkness and symbolizes wisdom”

Candle gazing, or trataka, is one example. In yogic tradition, it is associated with the third eye and is believed to support clarity and intuition. Whether viewed through a spiritual or practical lens, the practice encourages sustained attention, steadier breathing, and a quieter mind.

Maybe that’s what keeps drawing me back to the word gaze. It feels different from simply looking. It suggests attention, patience, and a willingness to be fully present with whatever is in front of you.

Our eyes are more than instruments of sight—they’re portals to awareness, inviting us to see both the world around us and the landscape within. They hold the possibility for presence, balance, and deeper knowing. What a remarkable gift it is to be able to truly see.

To softly direct our eyes at the sun, ‘sun gazing’ is one such ancestral practice—a way of slowing down and cultivating presence. Traditionally practiced during the first moments after sunrise (or just before sunset), it involves gently gazing toward, rather than directly at, the sun. Many believe the practice supports a deeper connection to intuition and inner awareness, often associating it with the pineal gland and the third eye.

Above: The work of Magali Cazo

Then there’s something called skychology—the practice of looking toward a wide horizon or an open sky. By engaging your panoramic vision rather than a narrow point of focus, it encourages the eyes and nervous system to relax while offering a subtle shift in perspective. Sometimes the simple act of looking outward helps us feel less confined inward.

Of course, we can’t forget about stargazing; a favorite pastime embodying every sense of the word awe. Research suggests experiences of awe can reduce stress, increase feelings of connection, and even stimulate the release of oxytocin, often called the “bonding hormone.”

I was in Montana a few years ago watching more shooting stars than I could count. That immense sky reminded me how small we all are—tiny pieces of stardust within something unimaginably vast.

Gazing has become both a personal practice and a quiet influence on my work. It reminds me to return to presence in a world constantly competing for attention. It reminds me that nature is our greatest source providing us with all the resources necessary to heal, and that sometimes the most profound way of ‘seeing’ is through simply allowing ourselves to be fully present.

Perhaps with age comes a deeper longing for a space that feels like a soulful expression of who I am—a place that reflects not only how I live, but how I want to feel and create.

I was recently reminded of Gaston Bachelard’s The Poetics of Space, an illuminating exploration of the psychological, poetic, and emotional resonance of our living environments, and how the intimate spaces we inhabit shape our consciousness, memories, and inner worlds.

“The house shelters daydreaming, the house protects the daydreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.”

He brilliantly writes about the need for inner spaces of reverie and meditation—“hide and seek places,” as he calls them. These are spaces where the mind can soften, where it can “go on holiday” and simply exist without expectation. Like a small animal retreating into its shell, or a bird resting in its nest, Bachelard invites us to view the home as a refuge—a magical sphere that envelops and protects us.

When I read this again, I was reminded of a note from my journal: “The deeper into the sphere you go, the closer to source you are.” These havens are where the soul can pause in silence, free itself to dream, and simply allow things to be.

Luis Barragán, a favorite architect of mine, once noted: “I think that the ideal space must contain elements of magic, serenity, sorcery, and mystery.”

I recall the peaceful—and inspiring—feeling I experienced while walking through Barragán’s house in Mexico City. He embodied the essence of quiet architecture. Each room held its own viewpoint, its own color (a lot of color!), which you might assume would create the opposite of tranquility—and yet it did not. There was a quiet magic within it, as each color choice felt intentional and deeply connected to the purpose of the space.

I remember noticing the picture frames hung along the edges of the walls rather than centered, creating unexpected moments of composition. Every corner of his home felt like what Bachelard describes in his book: each space serving a distinct psychological purpose.

“Corners symbolize solitude—a haven of stillness, where the imagination is free to wander.”

Upon entering the garden, the spaces between the stones, plants, and water elements revealed hidden surprises. Luis’ approach was anything but conventional. It was a storied space that felt deeply lived-in and alive, filled with objects and books that carried traces of a life devoted to creativity. I wished he was there so I could ask him about each one. I wished I could stay there longer—to create, to observe, and simply be.

There are a handful of places that have truly made me feel “at home” in the world, and through my work in hospitality, I’ve been fortunate enough to experience them. I’ve found the common denominator among all of them is this: rituals, serenity, and warmth.

Rituals invite slowness and presence, creating moments of emotional connection with ourselves. They cultivate an internal sense of peace and safety. Whether it is the arrival of fresh, warm coffee at your door each morning, or the lighting of a candle or incense in the evening, these small gestures shape how we experience a space and support a feeling of being grounded.

The peacefulness of a space—I don’t mean overly neutral walls or minimal furniture—but rather, the intentionality behind the placement of things: artwork, objects, and the natural elements that surround us. Fireplaces, water, fountains, trees, and the subtle presence of birdsong all contribute to a sense of belonging.

The light, storied objects, and textiles within a space can create solace for the soul. Natural light and open windows, objects that are not simply curated but crafted by hand, evoke connection. The materials and textiles within a space carry resonance—as do we. The more natural materials we incorporate, the more we “nurture the poetic nature of our being.”

I continue to uncover why certain spaces evoke such deep emotional resonance, why some places offer sanctuary, and how environments shape our inner worlds as my work continues to evolve at the intersection of wellbeing and design.

And all the while, I continue the search for my own healing space—a place that feels inherently, intuitively, and uniquely mine.

I was recently in a vinyasa flow followed by a sound bath. Toward the end of class, as we were guided into a deep stretch, the teacher invited us to hum a low resonance — Haum — drawing the sound from deep inside the heart.

She explained that by creating this vibration, we calm the nervous system. By relaxing internally, we surrender more deeply into the posture.

It was simple.
It was subtle.
And it worked.

The hum softened the edges of effort. The stretch became less about reaching and more about receiving, which is not a common thing for me...

… to receive, eh?

We Are Resonant Beings

A day later, I was listening to a podcast and reminded that sound vibrations in the same range as bird song (about 1–8 kHz) can activate stomata to open wider, fueling plant growth. Sound itself is integral to the life of the organism. Whether poetic or scientific, the idea resonated: sound shapes living systems.

We are not separate from that reality; We are flesh and frequency.

Our bodies are not passive vessels for listening; they are instruments. When our ears detect sound waves, vibrations trigger a cascade through muscle, fascia, breath, and nervous system. Sound does not stop at the ear. It travels.

There’s a quote that I recently came across:

“The ear is a faithful collector of all sounds that can be gathered within its limits of frequency and amplitude. Sounds beyond the limits of the ear may be gathered by other sensory systems of the body.”

We feel bass in our chest. We feel a siren in our spine. We feel silence in the exhale after a song ends. And when we’ve heard (and felt) too much, we unfortunately feel that too.

The Ocean, the Forest, and the Nervous System

I’ve been spending the past few months in Puerto Rico. Most mornings, I walk along the beach. The waves produce a steady, cyclical rhythm — a wash of sound that I find soothes my nervous system.

But sometimes, the ocean is too much.

The crash of waves can overwhelm me. On those days, I turn inland and take the quaint and aromatic forested trail. The soundscape shifts — birds, wind through leaves, intermittent quiet. My body responds differently. The spaciousness allows me to settle. My ears are given a break and thus my body responds in an exhale.

This is the practice: noticing how sound changes us.

Intention Is Everything

Resonance design is integral to the studio work. Considering the influence of sound - which includes designing curated playlists for hotel spaces. Sound becomes architecture. Atmosphere. Invisible design.

When it comes to music, we consider:

• Time of day

• Landscape

• Cultural context

• Emotional intention

In a Southwest property, an early morning playlist features Native American flute melodies interwoven with native bird calls. Intentional pauses between songs create internal spaciousness — an invitation for guests to set the tone of their day before words or devices entered the mind.

This use of silence echoes the Japanese concept of ma — the meaningful pause — often employed by composers like Ryuichi Sakamoto. In his work, the space between notes is as powerful as the notes themselves.

Later in the day, public spaces carry more tempo. At a hotel in expansive Montana, classic country and subtle indie tracks added lift — a gentle pep in the (cowboy) step — while remaining atmospheric rather than demanding attention. The layering, transitions, and resonance matters.

Everything carries a tone.

432hz, Sound Baths, and the Wellness Renaissance

We’re witnessing a renewed fascination with sound therapy — from 432hz meditations circulating online to immersive sound baths using crystal bowls, gongs, and tuning forks. The experiential impact is undeniable: sound alters mood, breath, and perception.

Sound-system culture, emerging in 1940s Kingston, Jamaica, understood this deeply. In those early dance gatherings, bass wasn’t just heard — it was felt. The body became part of the speaker system. Low frequencies vibrated through ribcage and soil alike. Sound was communal, embodied, connective.

Across human evolution, sound has been a primordial technology of belonging. Before language, there was rhythm. Before the discourse, there was a drum.

The Drum: The First Instrument

If there is a sound that returns us home, it may be the drum. I have had for a long time now this book called “Breath was the first Drummer”. It contains the only clear explanation of why drumming works shamanically and why rhythm affects consciousness the way it does.

It echoes the heartbeat.
It marks ceremony.
It calls us inward.

The drum is not melody; it is pulse — an invitation to remember the original rhythm we carried in the womb.

Sound Changes Us

In a world saturated with noise, choosing our soundscape becomes an act of care, as does how we find our way back to our personal rhythmic attunement.

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

Walking on the Earth has long been a way humans recalibrate. It’s how we sync with nature’s rhythms, its pulse, its quiet intelligence. A dear friend on the Taos Pueblo in New Mexico makes moccasins by hand, using leather not simply as a material, but as a relationship—one rooted in respect, symbolism, and harmony with the natural world. Sometimes he weaves copper into the soles, honoring its role as a conductor of energy, turning footwear into something closer to a tool for connection than an object of utility.

Stones like basalt, limestone, and what’s often called “Biblical stone” each carry distinct energetic qualities. They’re natural anchors—pulling scattered energy down from the mind and back into the body. They offer a felt sense of safety, stability, and presence. Most of us don’t consciously register it, but simply walking on these materials subtly shifts our internal state.

Source: Donna Karans East Hampton Home (stone from Phoenician Stone)

A recent project has taken me into the vortex of Desert Hot Springs and the Palm Springs region—a place known as a convergence of powerful natural forces: sun, wind, mountains, and geothermal water. Being there has sent me down quiet rabbit holes—thinking deeply about foundations, fountains, limestone screens, and how every design choice contributes to the overall experience.

Nikola Tesla’s idea to “think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration” is often cited to support the concept that everything—from a stone wall to human cells—vibrates, and design can be used to harmonize with these vibrations.

The intention for this project is to create something beyond treatment rooms or defined wellness offerings. This is about atmosphere. About drawing from ancient healing practices to create a space that supports real transformation. “Wellbeing” feels too small a word for what’s happening here.

Imagine the scent of orange blossom in the air. Soft light filtering through a limestone screen etched with sacred resonance patterns. The weight of marble underfoot, grounding the nervous system. Water moving through the space—cleansing, recalibrating, inviting pause.

There’s a subtle moment when you enter and feel it: I’ve arrived.

You’re welcomed by neroli and orange blossom—plants long associated with renewal. Fire appears as an element of purification. Limestone pathways guide you intuitively through the space—toward sauna, baths, massage, copper showers. Under the copper shower head, your feet meet basalt stone. As water hits the stone, its grounding qualities are said to amplify, creating a gentle steam that clears stagnant energy and calms the nervous system.

This has become a personal practice for me and certainly expressed in my creations: paying attention to the ground I walk on. Letting the body tune into what’s beneath it. Noticing how the inner landscape shifts as it meets the outer one—or maybe more accurately, the landscape below.

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

I recently went on a forest bathing walk with a friend and practitioner of the practice. We quieted ourselves and tuned into the pace of nature for at least an hour. At the beginning of the journey, as we walked up and into the trail, I was constantly reminding myself to slow down—to listen, look, and feel. I was resistant at first, yet with time I noticed my senses acting as a gateway to the stillness within me.

My friend invited me to slowly walk ahead and engage with something in nature that intuitively spoke to me. I found myself at the creek, watching the water flow at a steady pace across the rocks, softening each one with its elemental force. The stones were so still within the movement of the water. Watching this mirrored something in me. I found myself reflecting on the sentiment I shared above—that despite the constant movement of life, we can become a refuge for stillness.

In those ten minutes of quietude, I felt myself soften like the stones.

Source

The expression of my work is to create these spaces for refuge—through the design of environments, experiences, and products that invite the senses to awaken, yet allow for pause and inner solitude. Places and moments that become a refuge for stillness in a world so quick to move.

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

Designers can use thresholds intentionally to create moments of pause or anticipation, inviting reflection on what one is leaving behind and what lies ahead. Whether subtle or bold, the threshold becomes a meaningful design element that bridges not only spaces but states of being, encouraging awareness, transformation, and intentional living within the home.

Petecia Lefawnhawk’s conceptual art feels reflective of the spiritual essence of a threshold - the passage from one experience into another. Though, she describes her work as “living totems”.

Source

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

But temenos isn’t just for ancient temples or mythic dreams—it can be intentionally invoked in the modern world. We can feel it in a favorite restaurant where the atmosphere gently enfolds us, or in the quiet intimacy of a corner table, designed—perhaps unknowingly—as a haven from the noise outside. A thoughtfully designed doctor’s office, with warm lighting, gentle textures, and spacious flow throughout the interiors, can embody the Spirit of Healing, offering sanctuary from illness and fear. Contrast this with a cold, sterile clinic, and the difference is immediate and visceral.

This is the practical potency of temenos: it’s a felt sense of refuge, created through intention and design. As people increasingly seek spaces of rest and restoration, integrating temenos into community spaces—whether public or private—offers not just aesthetic beauty but deep psychological and spiritual nourishment.

Studiopepe’s first collectible design collection with Galerie Philia is a striking modern expression of this. Drawing from sacred circular forms like Stonehenge and the Pantheon, their immersive, temple-like installation invites us into a space of cosmic renewal—where the ancient meets the now, and the soul finds a place to breathe. Inspiring us to create temenos where we are - not necessarily needing to travel to find it.

“Drawing inspiration from the circular dimensions of ancient sacred monuments, such as Stonehenge and the Pantheon’s dome, they designed a majestic, temple-like, cylindrical structure symbolizing life, nature, and cosmic renewal (…)”w

Source: Studio Pepe

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

You have arrived.

An elixir made with herbal remedies from the area is presented in a vessel handmade by a local artist.

The intentionality of this moment creates an emotional imprint.

You’re gently guided to the room. The simple, yet impactful touches anticipate your needs like a water vessel by the bed and a handwritten note declaring your sweet arrival. The furniture is well appointed with furniture and objects - yet not too cluttered to allow internal ‘space’.

It’s the personal touches that make people feel valued.

The evening activity is an open-fire culinary experience. Your nose is the guide as the smell of burning fire takes you to a courtyard with other guests to savor in homemade fare by the hotel’s head Chef.

An authentic emotional connection - through experience - is more valuable and memorable than scripted dialogue.

You arrive back to your room for the evening, and the light is dimmed perfectly. The sheets are pulled back inviting you to settle in. On the bedside table is a crafted chocolate infused with honey from the beehive onsite.

A thoughtful way to transform a simple stay into a memorable experience.

When you depart, an artifact inspired by the culture of the place is presented to you.

A memento of your stay and keepsake in hopes you return to the memories had.

Godin is working with hotels and developers on intentionally designed spaces, creating harmonizing retreats for individuals and brands, and designing objects of desire that hold energy as much as function.

Each project is an alchemy of place, intention, and sensory detail as we consider how a room sounds when empty. How it smells at dusk. How light softens a surface or a texture invites touch. These elements—often overlooked—are the ones that stay with us.

Through holistic design, we create space as a vessel capable of holding emotion, memory, and transformation. Spaces where people can reverberate their intuitions into reality.

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

In any visual composition, it is not only the objects themselves that shape the experience—but the spaces between them. Balance, rhythm, and thoughtful relationships give form its voice, and its silence.

The Japanese concept of Ma—the space between—honors this principle, inviting stillness and breath into design. It is in these pauses, these intentional gaps, that a sense of calm and equilibrium emerges, preventing clutter and allowing each element to resonate more deeply.

As Frank Lloyd Wright said, “Space is the breath of art”—a reminder that what is not there is just as vital as what is.

Source: Casa Gilardi (1976) is the last residential project by Luis Barragan

Notice the intentionality of placement and the space between the sculptures.

At Godin, we craft environments that are not only seen but felt—alive with intention, spaciousness, and soul. Our spaces nourish the senses, ground the emotions, and invite presence. They hold room for quiet moments and deep connection. In everything we design, we believe the energy between the objects holds the greatest potential—because that is where life unfolds.

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

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Incorporating taste into spatial design doesn’t require a full culinary program — it can be as simple as placing bowls of seasonal fruit in a lounge or growing fresh herbs in a kitchen nook. The flavors and aromas complement visual cues, reinforcing the atmosphere and deepening the sense of place. Taste, like scent, is tied to memory; when thoughtfully integrated, it becomes a quiet storyteller. A single flavor, encountered again elsewhere, can evoke not just the space but the feeling it created — warmth, welcome, wonder.

Source; Babylonstoren, a farm estate for slow travelers who savor heritage and soil

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

Incorporating raw, natural materials deepens this sensory experience. Incense has been an integral part of human rituals, spirituality, and healing practices for thousands of years. The aromatic smoke generated by burning incense has a unique ability to calm the mind, uplift the spirit, and even promote physical well-being.

Even more impactful is the creation of a custom scent—one that embodies the essence of the space and is inspired by place and most importantly, intention. Offering it for sale not only extends the experience but plants a lasting memory. A single breath, long after departure, can spark the desire to return.

I recall a trip to Japan as the spaces would be filled with the essence of woods—oak, pine, hinoki— scents that bring more than texture or tone; yet infuse the air with quiet, familiar fragrances that echo the forest. These scents offer immediate solace, grounding guests (certainly myself!) in a sense of internal calm. This is no accident—our connection to nature is ancient, and the olfactory system links directly to the emotional centers of the brain. The result is primal, powerful, and profoundly human.

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

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The power of a sound is magnified by the stillness that surrounds it.

In a hotel setting, sound should flow with the rhythm of the day. M…

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As you bring color into your space, consider not only how it looks, but how it lives. Choose paints that are kind to both you and the environment — those free from harmful VOCs. Reputable brands offering acrylic, low- or no-VOC options, such as Eco Paints and Portola Paints, allow you to create beauty without compromise. Let your palette support wellbeing as much as aesthetics.

Source

Lighting. Natural light is the gold standard — a gift from the sun that stirs our spirits and sharpens our focus. It lifts mood, boosts productivity, and breathes life into a space. Where possible, let it lead.

While LED lighting has become the modern norm, it's worth treading mindfully — its blue tones can unsettle our rhythms, disturbing the natural flow of our circadian cycles. Light is more than utility; It sculpts shadows, draws attention, paints warmth or coolness, and cloaks rooms in mystery or brilliance.

Source

Art. Deemed the soul of a space — it can elevate or unravel everything around it. It speaks directly to the heart, bypassing logic and language. A single piece can stir joy or ache, serenity or restlessness. It holds the power to soothe, to awaken, to whisper.

Art is not static but a dynamic, living entity that thrives within the spaces it occupies. The brushstroke, the hue, the silence between lines — all shape the emotional atmosphere of a room.

Source, Artist Theo Pinto

Choose with intention. Let the art you live with remind you what it means to feel.

“Art has the ability to bring out our emotions, transport us to worlds in our dreams, and make us feel deeply connected to a moment, place, or a stranger’s experience.” Source

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

Many elements work together to create a desired ambiance in a room or space, be it a home, hotel lobby, wellness retreat, or social gathering space: color, lighting, sound, art, scent, texture, objects, and furniture.

Yet equally important is “Ma”, the space between. When done consciously, it creates a positive, active ‘space’ that enhances the surrounding elements to create a sense of balance, rhythm, and harmony.

As we become more intune with ourselves, we begin to feel more intensely the impact when one of these elements is misaligned - and the impact without Ma.

“Ma is all about space that holds potential” Source

Creating an atmosphere is more than just organizing objects within a space; it's about shaping an immersive experience that appeals to all the senses and connects with people on an emotional level. It involves cultivating an "aura"—a unique essence or character that fills the environment and subtly guides how individuals feel and act within it.

One of the core philosophies I implement at Godin Design, is that design begins in the body. We center the intuitive response to space—how light lands on skin, how texture meets fingertips, how volume holds breath. When you feel an object—truly feel it—you connect more deeply with your personal essence. Touch becomes a bridge between the physical world and your inner knowing. Every element is intentionally chosen to cultivate presence, ease, and quiet vitality.

The elemental approach to designing atmospheres from the insights of Godin are Sight, Color, Lighting, Art, Sound, Touch, Scent, Taste, and Ma. By combining all of these elements in a harmonious way, we at Godin improve people's lives by creating unique atmospheres that promote wellbeing.

At Godin Design, we incarnate the power of intention. Our correspondence, like our spaces, is thoughtful and present. We look forward to connecting with you: Godin

The image above is from KAI Sengokuhara, a hotel fully embodying what the art of atmosphere design is all about:

“Interiors are thoughtfully adorned with handmade ceramics, abstract paintings, and delicate washi paper lanterns, each piece reflecting the artistry of local craftsmen and the organic materials of the surrounding landscape. Seasonal shifts are subtly woven into the design, from the soft glow of autumn leaves filtering through the windows to the scent of hinoki wood in the serene onsen baths. Every detail encourages guests to embrace stillness, observe nature’s quiet transformations, and find harmony in simplicity, making KAI Sengokuhara not just a place to stay, but an invitation to experience Japan’s cultural soul through art and design.”

Cultivate a keen sense of intuition and possess the courage to change course - at any given point.

I have always been a curious being and felt quite at home in NYC sampling all the city has to offer. Before I left what I thought would be my forever home, I was designing eyewear for Warby Parker. I never imagined I’d spend time as an eyewear designer, but it taught me quite a bit about design; About the process and the sensitivity involved in creating something. I studied human behavior as it would inform my designs. I built the inspiration for collections based on intuition and influence of nature and the past. This role as a designer taught me how to ‘see’ into my inner truth as the art of design is born from the soul from an inner truth.

The summer I departed from NYC, I saw a poem called Some Things that inspired the next evolution of my work. After reading this poem I had an intuitive push:

“I will start a business about the design of products and experiences; And I will call it Some Things! The expression of my work will not just be any product or experience, but intentional and storied products ‘things’ and experiences shedding light on the makers.”

This nudged me to start my business, the first business I officially created. The intention was to create and curate products and guest experiences - largely for hotels - that would spark a sense of place, community, connection, and beauty. My introduction into the world of hospitality began shortly thereafter - about 12 years ago - and in divine timing.

For many months prior, I pitched this concept of ‘experience design’ to hotels - from New York, Michigan, Colorado, California, and other places around the U.S. I picked hotels that would potentially be open to ‘this’ (what was at the time) made-up concept. I kept at it because I intuitively knew it was what I wanted to create - and I saw value in bringing this to life. I felt it was missing in hospitality.

After many rejections or no reply’s, I heard word from a dear friend that 1 Hotels Miami would love to bring Some Things in to consult on experience design. The scope was designing local programming to the curation of turn-downs, to mini bars - and a bit more. After months in Miami, I received word that the 1 Brooklyn Bridge hotel was opening and spent time back in the big city working on the room product, programming/experiences, and Neighbors cafe experience. I’d visit local coffee roasters to learn their story and taste their offerings. I’d seek aligned small brands knowing a contract of this magnitude could do wonders to their business. The same applied to local partners as I engaged with yoga teachers, tarot readers, mindful meditation practitioners, shamans, etc. Many of these partners are still engaging with the hotels despite me leaving many years ago.

My journey since has been one of many courses - designing with developers and (hotel) owners, working alongside operators and brands to, at the end of the day, creating memories and positive impact in people’s lives.

Auberge Resorts reached out while I was living in Detroit in a quonset hut development my friend Philip Kafka of Prince Concepts created. They asked me to pilot this role of Experience Curator and to assist with the opening of a hotel just outside of Park City, Utah called The Lodge at Blue Sky. Despite my admiration for Detroit, I felt an internal peace inside, an inner knowing this was something I needed to do. My intuition spoke through the noise of fear and uncertainty of the unknown. I accepted the role and moved to Utah. What was supposed to be 6 months ended up being 5 years with Auberge Resorts.

I assisted in the launch of several hotels with Auberge; created the most meaningful experiences in partnership with brilliant creators resulting in everlasting memories across wellness, food and beverage, and adventure; And learned that the role of Experience Curator is an essential one to every hotel. It’s what creates the soul of the place…

… scents that provoke memory; music that impacts mood; local programming engagement that connects; and wellness offerings to restore and inspire a more intentional way of living.

Since leaving Auberge, I’ve started my own design studio, Godin. Within, we craft environments that connect deeply to ones embodied experience. Through our three vessels—Studio, Objects, and Experiences—we curate spaces that feel as exquisite as they look, products that invite ritual, and gatherings that transform.

It’s the intuitive next move. Godin is working with hotels and developers on intentionally designed spaces, creating harmonizing retreats for individuals and brands, and designing objects of desire that hold energy as much as function - starting with the sense of scent.

Each project is an alchemy of place, intention, and sensory detail as we consider how a room sounds when empty. How it smells at dusk. How light softens a surface or a texture invites touch. These elements—often overlooked—are the ones that stay with us.

With a world full of noise, Godin seeks to create ‘space’ for internal re/connection. Hotels, especially luxury properties, have been a place for that on the past and currently. We create space as a vessel capable of holding emotion, memory, and transformation through holistic design. Spaces where those can reverberate their intuitions into reality.