Interior design as self-expression

Source: Your Space Reflects Who You Are., Gawx Art, 9:10, uploaded 2025-02-15, playlist index 339.

Gawx Art begins with the rooms that made up his early life. His first memories include watching Shrek in the living room, collecting dinosaurs, and dealing with floods caused by a poor drain system. His second home stayed with him for eighteen years. It had tall ceilings, a wooden floor, afternoon sunlight, and a garden view at the end of the hallway. The room changed as he did: two beds became one, a first desk arrived, then storage, a dock, artwork, and new colours. The room gradually became a record of its occupant.

The move to Mexico City

At twenty-one, after two gap years, Gawx felt too comfortable. He first considered Tokyo, then accepted that the move was beyond his means and looked closer to home. Mexico City offered the cultural life and scale he wanted. Apartment listings produced little. His mother eventually found a three-bedroom apartment in the centre of the city on Facebook Marketplace. Work kept him from visiting, so he trusted her judgement, packed his life into a truck, signed the lease, and moved alone.

The building was old and the apartment already had a strong character. Gawx now had to make it his own whilst keeping some sense of the studio he had left behind. Interior design became a new art form to learn.

A six-room model

Gawx treats visualisation as the start of design. Before arranging the real apartment, he builds a scale model of the whole place. Two of the six rooms already have fixed uses. The remaining rooms become a set of practical decisions.

The dining area sits beside the kitchen and near the entrance. It shares space with the living room, so the two areas need a division that keeps them connected. The bedroom sits beside the bathroom to avoid walking through the apartment at night. Another room becomes the studio for planning, editing, and filming. The last room begins as a possible guest room before Gawx gives it to himself as a lab for experiments.

The layout comes together quickly. The harder problem is the design language. An empty apartment offers too many possible directions, so Gawx starts by asking what good design means to him.

Rules for a working studio

He spends time watching apartment tours, reading interior-design books, and collecting reference images. The material gives him a history of design movements and practices, yet it leaves the central problem intact. He has been studying houses as though he were designing a house. His space also needs to function as a studio, a film set, and a source of ideas.

The change in purpose changes the references. He studies artists’ studios and writes his own rules:

1. Ceiling lights are banned in favour of lamps.
2. The apartment must stay easy to clean because cleaning help is limited.
3. The rooms must support inspiration and make it easy to work.
4. Every element needs an intention and a purpose, from the couch and artwork to the wristwatch and razor.

The razor appears in a sponsored interruption, so the note leaves its product claims aside. Its place in the surrounding argument still matters. Gawx treats everyday tools as part of the design of a life, especially when a tool turns a repeated task into a deliberate ritual.

Contrast, cohesion, and the furniture search

The first objects come from his old studio: a bed, work desk, turntable setup, large plant, and a few other familiar pieces. An early IKEA trip adds a chair, coffee table, and a rock. That rock supplies the accent colour for the rest of the apartment. A small purchase gives the larger space a direction.

The apartment still needs balance. Gawx searches for furniture that can sit beside what he already owns, then builds the rooms from different textures, shapes, and colours. Contrast makes a space interesting, although contrast alone leaves the rooms scattered. Cohesion has to hold the differences together. The design problem becomes a search for a workable point between contrast and harmony.

IKEA trips turn into a routine of unboxing, building, and finding a place for each new object. The process approaches obsession, and the apartment begins to take shape. After that, the space starts to design itself. A new area appears when Gawx finds a new hobby. A collection grows with a new interest. An object arrives with a memory attached to it. The room keeps changing because the person living in it keeps changing.

A room that carries its owner

Gawx treats interior design like any other art form because both depend on self-expression. He fills the apartment with things he loves and finds a way for them to work together. The final arrangement comes through intuition as much as planning. His method stays personal. He describes the slower accumulation through which a room becomes legible as someone’s own.

Looking at the finished apartment gives a viewer a sense of Gawx’s passions, ambitions, and aspirations. He says it might resemble the inside of his brain. The claim stays personal. The room reflects him because he has chosen its objects, colours, uses, and relationships over time.

Limits

This is a personal film about making one apartment in Mexico City. It offers no independent account of interior-design history, no research on how rooms express identity, and no test for the balance between contrast and harmony. The rules belong to Gawx’s needs as an artist who plans, films, edits, and experiments at home.

The captions contain several transcription errors around the apartment layout and the sponsored section. The note keeps the sequence and meaning that remain clear from the complete caption track and description, while leaving out garbled wording and the sponsor’s product details. The source’s strongest evidence is the process it shows: a room gains meaning through repeated choices, and those choices change as a life changes.