What does it mean to come home — not just to a place, but to yourself? As a creative who lives at the crossroads of design, art, and wellness, I’ve always believed our spaces carry stories. They speak in color, in texture, in scent. They hold our histories, our hopes, our healing. And for many of us, especially those who move through the world with layered identities, home becomes something deeper than décor. It becomes a reflection of who we are when we are finally free.
This inaugural edition of ECHO — Empowering Community & Honoring Originality — explores the beautifully layered relationship between identity, design, and healing. For Out In STL’s Homes issue, I spoke with four of St. Louis’s most thoughtful creatives — designers, artists, and innovators who each understand that space is a mirror, a medicine, and a mode of storytelling.
These aren’t just people who make beautiful things. They make places that hold us. That reflect us. That dare us to feel more deeply. In every answer, you’ll find a philosophy of care — not just for aesthetics, but for self-worth, emotional safety, and creative flow.
Brett Clark
Interior Designer /
Co-Owner, Design Collective STL
@designcollectivestl | @elevated_elements | designcollectivestl.com
Brett Clark by Megan Lorenz Photography
Brett Clark knows that the most powerful rooms aren’t always the ones that follow the rules. “One of the most meaningful spaces in my home is what I loosely call my office — but in reality, it’s so much more than that,” he shares. “It’s a wardrobe. It’s a workspace. It’s a place for personal items and creative freedom.”
Unlike the rest of his home, which may reflect balance or client-driven aesthetics, this sanctuary breaks form. “In this room, things don’t have to match or make perfect sense,” he explains. “It reflects all the different facets of who I am, and that’s why it feels so grounding.”
That emotional resonance is core to Clark’s design ethos — and his queerness. “I identify as a gay man, and while I know everyone has their own journey, I deeply value the importance of feeling safe and seen in your environment,” he says. “That perspective informs everything I do.”
As co-owner of Design Collective STL, Clark intentionally avoids a “signature style.” Instead, he creates spaces that serve as extensions of each client’s inner world. “Design shouldn’t be prescriptive,” he says. “I meet people where they are and help create something that aligns with who they are.”
When asked what advice he’d give someone trying to reclaim their space, Clark doesn’t hesitate. “Start with small changes that bring you joy,” he says. “Design can be a powerful tool for healing when it’s based in authenticity. Let your space reflect who you are now, not who you were — or who you think you should be.”
Nandini Ramaswamy-King
Motion Designer,
Phoenix Creative Co.
@nandini_in_motion | @atreyasa
Nandi Ramaswamy-King by Elisabeth Wiseman Photography
For Nandini Ramaswamy-King, home is a living, breathing expression of presence. “Home, to me, is where I find calm and contentment,” she says. “Having lived on several continents, I’ve come to understand that home isn’t tied to a single place — it’s something you create wherever you are, with the people you love.”
That clarity shows up in her work; as a motion designer, she brings visual rhythm and warmth to stories for national clients. “My work is emotionally driven,” she says. “I’m always asking: how can this feel more human? More considered? More alive?”
The through-line is nature. “Being outdoors every day, no matter the weather, is my non-negotiable,” she says. “Even a short walk resets my mind and restores my energy. Nature’s design is my greatest inspiration: its quiet order, its balance, its unpredictability.”
In her personal spaces, that means soft light, organic textures, and the kind of intentional clutter that makesa room feel lived in. “I’m less interested in perfection and more interested in spaces that feel like they’ve been loved into existence.”
Ramaswamy-King’s sensitivity and global experience also shape how she connects with others. “Having lived in different cultures, I’ve learned how to listen,” she says.
“Humor, curiosity, and presence are my entry points.” She identifies as an ally and is mindful of building inclusive, respectful spaces. “It’s not about saying all the right things,” she advises. “It’s about being present, staying open, and standing up when it matters.”
Her advice for anyone looking to heal through design? “Go inward first. Let your truth — not Pinterest or the algorithm — guide your choices. When you listen deeply to what you need, the space will start to speak back.”
Mike Wyrock
Interior Designer / Co-Owner,
Nistenhaus & Warehaus
by Nistenhaus @nistenhaus | @warehausbynistenhaus nistenhaus.com
Mike Wyrock. Courtesy of Mike Wyrock
Spend five minutes talking with Mike Wyrock and you’ll quickly realize he doesn’t just design spaces, he listens to them. “We moved into our current home two years ago, and honestly, it feels like we’re living in a treehouse,” he says. “The windows overlook a wooded lot, and when you’re in the living room, it’s like the outside world disappears.”
That space — the living room in their 1976 home — is where Wyrock finds the deepest peace. “It’s our gathering place,” he says. “Our sanctuary. It’s where I relax with our animals, reflect, or simply do nothing.”
What makes it special isn’t just the view, it’s the soul of the space. “We didn’t gut it or change everything,” he explains. “There are layers of the previous owner’s life here, mixed with our own history. Our books, our art, our record player, it all lives together in this quiet harmony.”
As a designer (who also lives with his partner and fellow designer), Wyrock has a strong connection to comfort. “I’m obsessed with lounge spaces,” he laughs. “I think people need more places where they can just sprawl. No pressure, no posture, just rest.”
That philosophy is deeply therapeutic. “When I’m comfortable, I can process things. I can think through what’s been bothering me. Comfort doesn’t erase stress — it helps you release it.”
Wyrock is proudly gay and deeply aware of how queer presence shows up in his space. “There are small signals: a Tom of Finland book, certain art pieces,” he says. “I believe in subtle power. Pride doesn’t always have to shout to be heard.”
His biggest piece of advice? “Stop designing for other people’s expectations. Don’t hide the things you love: the weird collections, the nostalgia, the joy. You’re not living in a showroom. You’re living in your life.”
Tiélere Cheatem
Visual Artist, Performer, Tiélere
Cheatem Studios
@tcheatemstudios | tcheatemstudios.com
Tiélere Cheatem by John Harder Photography
For Tiélere Cheatem, home is synonymous with freedom. “It’s the security to exist freely,” they say. “To be fully, wildly, brilliantly myself.” As a multidisciplinary artist, performer, and creative visionary, their work pulses with unapologetic energy, often blending painting, fashion, movement, and queer Black identity into something sacred and uncontainable.
“My work is ahead of its time. It evokes power and liberty,” Cheatem explains. “That same energy shows up in how I design the spaces around me. I want to walk into a room and feel like my spirit is being held, not just my body.”
Their advice for creating a healing home? “Tune out the noise. Listen to your inner child, and your future self: they’ll speak to you if you’re quiet enough. Then act. Don’t wait for permission. Design your space as a love letter to all versions of you.”
Cheatem identifies as a proud Black, queer, nonbinary person and uses they/them pronouns. “My identity is not a detail,” they say. “It’s the fabric of my work. It informs every brushstroke, every performance, every room I enter.”
Their home is a kind of living altar, a place for joy, reflection, and resistance. “For Black and queer folks, claiming space is already radical,” they say. “Making it beautiful? That’s liberation.”
Echoes & Reflections
Tai Davis. Photo credit: Virginia Harold
Home is so much more than walls and windows: it’s the story we’re telling back to ourselves. Through these powerful conversations, it’s clear that healing doesn’t happen despite design — it often happens through it.
Whether it’s Clark’s no-rules sanctuary, Ramaswamy-King’s nature-inspired rhythms, Wyrock’s layered nostalgia, or Cheatem’s unapologetic expression, each of these spaces reflects a deep, loving commitment to authenticity. They are sanctuaries not just of comfort, but of self.
And in a world that often demands we shrink to fit in, there is nothing more revolutionary than expanding to meet our full selves, right where we live.
So here’s to the homes that hold us, the rooms that remember us, and the designs that dare to say: You are safe. You are seen. You belong.
