Interviews met Mai Wahdan

Since I started my journey in design, I’ve worked on multiple projects ranging from interior architecture to furniture. I’ve led various projects that reflect a deep appreciation for materiality, culture, and form. Over the years, I’ve collaborated with diverse clients across the Gulf region, particularly in Oman and Saudi Arabia. I transitioned from a high-level role in education to pursue my true passion—design—which I studied academically and practiced professionally through my design house, Luxentti. My work has been internationally recognized, including winning the Golden A’ Design Award for the Tura Table in 2025.

Design has always been at the core of who I am. I studied architecture academically, which gave me a strong foundation in spatial thinking, material understanding, and conceptual development. Although I initially pursued a successful career in education, I felt a strong internal pull back to design—the field I originally studied and loved. This wasn’t a sudden decision but a return to my roots. My transition was driven by a passion to create meaningful, soulful spaces and objects that blend natural materials, cultural depth, and modern craftsmanship. My husband, who is also an architect, has been a major source of support and inspiration throughout this journey.

My top priorities in design are: (1) emotional connection—each space or piece should evoke feeling; (2) timeless materiality—I emphasize natural elements like wood, stone, and metal; and (3) narrative-driven concepts—every project tells a story. My style blends luxury with nature, often incorporating biophilic elements and earthy tones. I begin with hand sketches and mood boards before moving to digital tools for precise development. Depending on the project, I may also use physical mockups or explore materials through prototyping, especially in furniture design.

Designing fills me with a mix of excitement, curiosity, and deep focus. The most thrilling phase is the initial spark—translating an abstract idea into a tangible concept. I also find great joy in the development journey, especially when materials and forms begin to align with the vision. There’s a quiet satisfaction in finalizing a project and seeing it come to life. For me, design is both a personal escape and a professional calling—it gives me purpose, creative freedom, and a continuous sense of fulfillment.

My academic background in architecture laid a strong foundation for my design thinking—combining structure, creativity, and functionality. Studying architecture trained me to approach each project holistically, balancing form, space, and emotion. Beyond academics, growing up in a culturally rich environment surrounded by art and heritage deeply influenced my sensitivity to aesthetics and storytelling. One of the biggest influences on my work has been the connection between people and their spaces—how thoughtful design can shape experience, evoke emotion, and leave a lasting impression.

My growth path is centered around expanding the reach and impact of Luxentti—both creatively and geographically. I aim to design more culturally rooted, globally recognized spaces and products that merge tradition with innovation. I’m particularly excited about showcasing our work in international exhibitions like Milan Design Week. A dream project for me would be to design a boutique cultural retreat or museum that celebrates regional identity through architecture, interior design, and custom furniture. I want to be remembered as a designer who told meaningful stories through material and form.

Trust your instincts, but be open to learning from every experience—whether success or challenge. Design is not just about beauty; it’s about intention, context, and clarity. Surround yourself with people who elevate your thinking, and never stop exploring. Don’t rush to find a style—let it emerge naturally through practice. One of the best pieces of advice I’ve received is: “Design with purpose, not trend.” Stay curious, stay humble, and most importantly, stay passionate.

Stay grounded in your values, and let your design philosophy evolve through experience. Always design with intent—each line, material, and decision should serve a purpose. Avoid falling into trends without questioning their relevance. Collaboration is key, but so is protecting your creative integrity. Push boundaries, but respect context. And finally, don’t underestimate the power of storytelling in design—it’s what makes your work resonate.

My day usually starts with reviewing project updates, sketches, or team discussions. I balance creative work—like conceptual development or design reviews—with strategic planning for Luxentti. Depending on the phase, I might be immersed in material selections, overseeing 3D models, or collaborating with clients. Throughout the day, small things like a good playlist, a spontaneous idea, or a beautiful texture sample often bring me joy. Even on the busiest days, there’s always a moment that reconnects me with why I love what I do.

I stay aware of design trends, but I don’t let them dictate my work. I believe in creating timeless designs that are rooted in material, culture, and emotion. I follow trends through exhibitions, publications, and global design movements, but I filter them through my own lens. My inspiration comes more from history, architecture, nature, and human experience than from what’s trending at the moment. Trends may inform, but they never define my work.

Good design is intuitive—it feels right even before you analyze it. For me, it’s defined by clarity, purpose, emotional resonance, and timelessness. A well-designed space or object should connect with its user, respect its context, and age gracefully. I look for coherence in form, material, and function. If something can communicate a story or evoke a feeling without explanation, then it’s a success. On the other hand, overcomplication and unnecessary gestures are common pitfalls I always avoid.

A design is ready when it balances function, emotion, and intention—when each element feels resolved and aligned with the original vision. I’m a perfectionist by nature, so I tend to refine until there’s nothing left to adjust meaningfully. But I’ve also learned to trust the moment when a design stops asking questions and starts offering answers. While I believe every design can be improved endlessly, knowing when to stop is a crucial skill. Once a design carries clarity and confidence, I know it’s ready to move forward.

One of my proudest works is the Tura Table, which won the Golden A’ Design Award in 2025. It was inspired by the Tura stone used in the ancient Egyptian pyramids, translated into a modern, lightweight form using fiberglass. The table combines three monumental stone-like bases with a tempered glass top, merging history with innovation. It represents years of research into materials, usability, and aesthetics. Tura Table is more than just furniture—it’s a story carved in contemporary form. I’m also excited about current projects that explore cultural identity through interior and architectural storytelling.

I admire many designers, but one who deeply resonates with me is Thomas Heatherwick—his ability to merge architecture, art, and engineering into emotionally engaging forms is truly inspiring. I also find inspiration in the work of Kelly Wearstler for her bold layering and fearless creativity. Each of these figures has influenced my appreciation for balance between innovation, elegance, and emotional impact.

I live between cultures, drawing inspiration from both my Egyptian roots and the places I’ve worked in gulf . My lifestyle is a mix of quiet observation and creative exploration. I’m often inspired by traditional crafts, regional textures, and architectural heritage. Music is part of my process—it sets the mood while I conceptualize. I believe good design elevates daily life, and my aim is to reflect that belief in every project. My culture taught me to honor beauty in detail and to value the stories behind forms.

At Luxentti, our work culture is grounded in collaboration, respect, and design integrity. I work closely with my partner—my husband—who is also an architect. We lead with a shared vision but from different strengths. When selecting partners or team members, I look for curiosity, accountability, and passion for detail. I value open-mindedness and strong ethics just as much as creativity. We approach each project with care, balancing innovation with cultural sensitivity. The core of our business philosophy is to design with meaning, not just aesthetics.

I believe design has a responsibility beyond aesthetics—it can uplift communities and create meaningful change. Whenever possible, I contribute by mentoring young designers, sharing knowledge, and participating in initiatives that support creative growth. I’m open to pro bono collaborations, especially when the project aligns with values of sustainability, education, or cultural preservation. I also engage in design events and talks that aim to make design more accessible and inspiring to the next generation. Giving back, for me, means using design as a tool for impact—whether big or small.

The A’ Design Award was a transformative experience. It provided an international platform to showcase my work, connect with incredible creatives, and gain meaningful exposure. Three major benefits stood out: (1) global recognition, (2) access to a network of like-minded professionals, and (3) the opportunity to exhibit and publish my work. Winning the Golden Award for the Tura Table gave me validation and motivation to push my vision further. Being selected as Designer of the Day is a true honor—it reaffirms my belief in purposeful, story-driven design.

Ridge House was inspired by the layered rock formations and natural landscape of AlUla. The design explores the idea of architecture emerging from the terrain, creating a strong connection between the built environment and nature. Through natural materials, expansive glazing, and biophilic design principles, the house was conceived to provide a calm, light-filled living experience rooted in its surroundings.

My main focus was to create a seamless connection between architecture and nature. I wanted to achieve a home that feels calm, timeless, and deeply connected to its surroundings, while maximizing natural light, views, privacy, and the overall living experience.

Ridge House serves as a prototype for future residential projects that explore the relationship between architecture, landscape, and wellbeing. The design principles developed through this project will continue to evolve and inspire future work focused on creating meaningful, nature-connected living environments.

The concept development and interior design process took approximately four months, including research, space planning, material selection, and the refinement of the overall design vision.

Ridge House was a commissioned project. The design was developed in response to the client’s desire for a contemporary luxury residence that feels connected to nature. At the same time, it provided an opportunity to explore my interest in creating architecture and interiors that draw inspiration from the surrounding landscape and promote a sense of wellbeing.

Ridge House is a commissioned residential project currently being developed for a private client. At this stage, there are no plans to sell or license the design, as it was created specifically for its intended site and client requirements.

I have always been interested in designing residential spaces because they have a direct impact on people’s daily lives. Ridge House provided an opportunity to explore how architecture, interiors, and nature can work together to create a living environment that is both functional and emotionally engaging.

Maison Equine was inspired by the idea of transforming a traditional horse stable into a refined lifestyle environment, where equestrian function, hospitality, and cultural identity coexist. The main principle was to design a space that supports the daily needs of horses and staff while also creating an emotional experience for visitors.

The project was shaped around the client’s bold personality and deep connection to horses. Instead of treating the stable as a purely service-based building, I approached it as a social and cultural destination. The lounge overlooking the paddock became the heart of the design, allowing visitors to feel connected to the horses while enjoying a warm, expressive, and highly personal interior atmosphere.

The inspiration came from a tailored fusion of Omani context, bohemian layering, earthy materials, rich tones, artistic details, and dynamic textures. My aim was to create a stable that feels rooted, memorable, and full of character, while still respecting the practical requirements of equestrian movement, safety, and comfort.

My main focus was to redefine the emotional experience of a horse stable. I wanted Maison Equine to move beyond the conventional image of equestrian facilities as purely utilitarian spaces and instead become a destination that feels warm, immersive, and culturally expressive.

From the beginning, I aimed to achieve a balance between functionality and atmosphere. Every design decision considered both the wellbeing of the horses and the experience of the people interacting with the space. Circulation paths were carefully planned to ensure smooth and safe movement, while the lounge areas were designed to feel inviting, artistic, and visually connected to the paddock.

Another important focus was creating a strong identity for the project. I wanted the design to reflect the client’s energetic personality and appreciation for art, culture, and bold aesthetics without losing the authenticity of the equestrian environment. Through layered textures, archways, earthy materials, rich colors, and handcrafted details, the project developed its own visual language that feels distinctive yet deeply connected to its context.

Ultimately, the goal was to create a stable that people would emotionally remember — not only for its appearance, but for the atmosphere and experience it creates.

Maison Equine is envisioned as more than a single project; it represents a broader direction for contemporary equestrian design that combines lifestyle, culture, and emotional experience. In the future, I hope to further develop this design language into larger equestrian destinations that integrate hospitality, wellness, social spaces, and horse-centered environments in a more immersive way.

I also see strong potential for expanding certain custom-designed elements from the project into collectible furniture and product pieces inspired by the equestrian atmosphere, material palette, and sculptural character of the space.

As the project gained international recognition, my future plan is to continue refining this approach and applying it to new projects across the Gulf region, while exploring how culturally expressive interiors can coexist with highly functional equestrian planning. The project opened new possibilities for creating stables that feel experiential, artistic, and emotionally connected rather than purely operational.

The concept development for Maison Equine evolved over several stages and took a few months of exploration, refinement, and coordination. One of the most important parts of the process was traveling to Oman to experience the environment firsthand, understand the equestrian lifestyle surrounding the project, and observe the horses directly within their natural setting.

The client also introduced us to places and interiors she personally connected with, which helped us better understand her personality, emotional preferences, and the atmosphere she envisioned for the project. These experiences became an essential part of shaping the final direction, allowing the design to feel deeply personal rather than stylistically imposed.

A significant amount of time was dedicated to studying equestrian functionality, circulation efficiency, horse comfort, material durability, and the relationship between hospitality spaces and stable operations. Simultaneously, the visual language evolved through multiple iterations until the project developed its own identity through layered textures, earthy tones, artistic expression, and culturally influenced details tailored specifically to the client and the Omani context.

Maison Equine was developed through a deeply collaborative and immersive design journey shaped by the client’s personality, lifestyle, and emotional connection to horses. From the beginning, the intention was to create a stable environment that feels experiential and emotionally engaging rather than purely functional.

What inspired me to pursue this direction was the opportunity to reinterpret the atmosphere of equestrian spaces through a more artistic and culturally expressive lens. I wanted the project to feel warm, layered, and memorable while still respecting the calmness and functionality required within a horse-centered environment.

Traveling to Oman became an essential part of the creative process. Experiencing the horses firsthand, understanding the surrounding environment, and visiting places the client personally connected with helped the concept evolve naturally from real experiences and emotions. This allowed the design to develop its own identity, where equestrian functionality, artistic expression, and cultural atmosphere seamlessly intersect.

Maison Equine is a site-specific design developed around the client’s lifestyle and the unique atmosphere of the equestrian environment. I do not intend to reproduce the same design, as I believe every project should have its own identity, emotional character, and spatial language shaped specifically for its context and users.

I have always been interested in designing spaces that create an emotional experience rather than simply serving a function. Maison Equine gave me the opportunity to explore that idea within an equestrian environment, where interiors, lifestyle, and movement naturally intersect.

What attracted me most to this type of work was the challenge of creating a space that feels both calming and expressive at the same time. Designing around horses requires sensitivity to circulation, atmosphere, materials, and behavior, while also creating a refined environment for people to gather and connect with the space emotionally.

Rather than being influenced by a single designer or project, Maison Equine was shaped by a blend of cultural atmospheres, equestrian lifestyle experiences, and the client’s personal preferences. During the design journey in Oman, we visited places and interiors the client felt emotionally connected to, which helped inspire the project’s mood, textures, and overall character.

The design was also influenced by the balance often found in hospitality spaces between warmth, comfort, and visual identity, while adapting these qualities into a horse-centered environment with its own distinctive atmosphere.

Maison Equine was designed for individuals who view equestrian spaces as an extension of their lifestyle rather than purely functional facilities. The project targets horse owners and visitors who value emotional atmosphere, cultural character, refined hospitality, and a deeper connection between people, space, and horses.

It was especially tailored for a client who appreciates bold artistic expression, layered materials, and immersive environments while maintaining the comfort and practical needs required within a horse-centered setting.

Maison Equine transforms the stable experience into an immersive lifestyle environment rather than a purely functional facility. Its identity comes from the balance between equestrian functionality, cultural warmth, artistic expression, and emotionally connected spaces tailored specifically to the client and horses.

The name Maison Equine combines the word “Maison,” meaning house or refined living, with “Equine,” representing the horse-centered nature of the project. Together, the name reflects the idea of a sophisticated equestrian environment that feels warm, immersive, and lifestyle-oriented rather than purely functional.

The project was developed using a combination of AutoCAD, SketchUp, and 3ds Max throughout different stages of the design process. AutoCAD was used for technical planning and circulation studies, SketchUp for spatial development and concept exploration, and 3ds Max for visualization, atmosphere development, and refining the final design presentation.

The most unique aspect of Maison Equine is the way it blends emotional atmosphere with equestrian functionality. The project was designed not only around the practical needs of horses, but also around the experience, personality, and lifestyle connected to the space, creating an environment that feels immersive, artistic, and deeply personal.

Yes, the project involved collaboration and coordination across different technical and creative aspects during the design development and realization process.

Technology played an important role in both the development and presentation of Maison Equine. Digital design tools were used to study circulation, proportions, lighting, and the relationship between the lounge and equestrian areas to create a balanced experience for both horses and visitors.

AI was also integrated during the final visualization stage to enhance atmosphere, cinematic storytelling, and visual communication. In addition, AI-assisted tools were used to create a conceptual video for the project, helping communicate the emotional experience and immersive character of the space in a more dynamic way.

Yes, the design was influenced by both observational and functional research related to equestrian environments. A significant part of the process focused on understanding horse behavior, movement patterns, comfort, and daily stable routines to create a space that feels calm, safe, and practical for the horses themselves.

We also researched different stable design approaches and equestrian environments to better understand how circulation, materials, ventilation, and spatial organization affect both horses and visitors. Visiting the site in Oman and experiencing the horses directly also became an important part of shaping the final design direction.

One of the main challenges was balancing the emotional and artistic character of the space with the practical requirements of an equestrian environment. The design needed to feel immersive and visually distinctive while still ensuring safe circulation, durability, comfort, and functionality for both horses and visitors.

Another challenge was creating a socially inviting atmosphere without disrupting the operational flow of the horses and staff. The relationship between the lounge, walkways, paddock views, and service areas had to be carefully planned to maintain both visual connection and functional separation while preserving a calm and refined equestrian

This was not my first experience participating in international design competitions, but Maison Equine felt different from the beginning. I believed the project carried a unique emotional and cultural character that deserved to be recognized on a global level.

Designing Maison Equine became a learning journey into the world of horses and equestrian environments. Throughout the process, I learned about horse behavior, movement patterns, daily routines, comfort requirements, and how sensitive they are to circulation, atmosphere, and spatial organization.

This experience changed the way I approached the design entirely, allowing me to create a space that feels not only visually immersive, but also more responsive to the horses themselves and the lifestyle surrounding them.

No, I believe the interview covered the main aspects of Maison Equine and the design journey behind it.

The Tura Table was inspired by the limestone used in ancient Egyptian pyramids—specifically the Tura stone. The principle was to capture the monumentality and symbolism of this material while translating it into a modern, lightweight, and functional design.

My focus was to create a piece that evokes cultural memory while functioning effortlessly in contemporary interiors. I wanted to achieve harmony between form, materiality, and emotion—blending ancient presence with modern lightness.

We plan to exhibit the Tura Table in major design events, including Milan Design Week. I also aim to explore limited-edition releases and potential collaborations with galleries and luxury interior brands to expand its reach.

The entire process took approximately 10 months, from concept development and research to prototyping, refinement, and final production.

This design was self-initiated, born from a personal inspiration to reimagine ancient materials in a modern, sculptural form. It was a creative pursuit driven by passion, not a commissioned project.

The Tura Table is produced in-house under my design brand, and we are open to future licensing opportunities with select partners who align with the concept and quality expectations.

As both an architect and interior designer, I often felt the need for furniture that speaks a spatial language. The Tura Table bridges furniture and sculpture—it was a natural evolution of my desire to create meaningful centerpieces for interiors.

While the core inspiration was historical, I’ve long admired the sculptural approach of designers like Thomas Heatherwick, who balance storytelling with bold materiality. His work encouraged me to explore emotional form beyond function.

Discerning clients who appreciate cultural depth, sculptural aesthetics, and bespoke design. It appeals to collectors, design-focused homeowners, and hospitality spaces seeking a standout statement piece.

Its material storytelling and visual weight contrast with its actual lightness. The fusion of ancient stone influence with contemporary production techniques gives it a strong identity and emotional depth not often found in modern tables.

The name “Tura” directly references the limestone quarries of Tura, which supplied the white casing stones for the Great Pyramids. It honors the origin of the material and the story it carries.

Initial sketches were done by hand. The final form was developed using Rhino for 3D modeling, with rendering done in V-Ray and detailed prototyping involving physical material samples and molds.

Its sculptural form that mimics heavy stone but is made from lightweight fiberglass, allowing easy integration into modern interiors without compromising its monumental presence.

I collaborated with specialized fabricators to perfect the fiberglass texture and finish. Their technical expertise was essential to achieving the tactile realism of stone while ensuring stability and lightness.

Technology played a crucial role—from digital modeling and simulation to fiberglass molding and precision glass bonding. Without these tools, the material expression and structural balance would not have been possible.

The research was material-focused. I conducted texture and weight comparisons, stress tests on fiberglass prototypes, and user experience studies on scale and ergonomics. The goal was to ensure both usability and longevity.

The biggest challenge was achieving the tactile authenticity of stone in a lightweight material. There were also technical hurdles in bonding the glass securely while maintaining visual lightness and overall balance.

My husband, who is also an architect and has already won several awards at the A’ Design Award, encouraged me to submit. His support and experience gave me the confidence to share my work on an international platform. It felt like the right moment to present a piece that reflected both my personal voice and cultural inspiration.

I deepened my understanding of fiberglass fabrication and learned to embrace bold, sculptural gestures in furniture. It also reaffirmed the value of storytelling in design and the power of blending heritage with innovation.

Design is not just about creating objects—it’s about leaving a trace of meaning. With the Tura Table, I wanted to create something that feels both ancient and alive, something that connects people not only with function but with legacy.

I hold a Bachelor’s degree in Architecture, earned in 2008. My academic foundation, combined with real-world experience and continuous learning, shaped my approach to creating meaningful, balanced spaces.

Design allows me to turn emotions, stories, and visions into real, living spaces. I became a designer because I believe spaces have the power to shape how we feel, live, and connect — and creating that impact has always been my passion.

I chose it—completely. Even though I started my career in another field, design was always calling me. It wasn’t a forced path; it was a return to who I’ve always been.

I currently design interior spaces and furniture pieces, focusing on creating meaningful and elegant environments. Moving forward, I wish to design more highly personalized spaces and statement furniture pieces that tell stories, reflect individuality, and connect deeply with nature — blending luxury, authenticity, and sustainability.

Stay true to your passion, stay patient with your journey, and never stop learning. Focus on building depth, not just chasing trends. Real greatness comes from consistency, authenticity, and designing with heart — not just with skill. Legends are made by those who keep creating, even when no one is watching.

A good designer creates beautiful work.

A great designer creates work that feels — designs that tell stories, evoke emotions, and leave a lasting impact.

It’s not just about how things look, but about how they connect with people on a deeper level.

A really good design goes beyond aesthetics—it solves a problem, tells a story, and evokes emotion. It feels effortless yet intentional. I evaluate good design based on its clarity of concept, harmony between form and function, material honesty, and how it connects with people on a deeper level.

Good design shapes how we live, feel, and connect with our surroundings. It’s not just about beauty — it’s about creating spaces and objects that enhance everyday life, bring comfort, inspire emotions, and add lasting value.

Investing in good design is investing in a better quality of life, in spaces that nurture well-being and leave a meaningful impression over time.

I would love to design a cultural center that merges art, heritage, and architecture—something rooted in Arab identity. Ideally for a foundation or initiative that promotes cultural preservation.

Designing a boutique hotel or retreat in a natural landscape, where every interior element is custom-designed and tells a story.

Depth—whether it’s in concept, material, or meaning. I don’t design for looks only; I always ask “why” and “how it connects to the user.”

I admire Kelly Wearstler for her fearless eclecticism and bold interiors, and Ferris Rafauli for his masterful detailing and luxurious architectural vision. Their work shows how design can be both artistic and powerful.

I love Kelly Wearstler’s furniture pieces—they’re bold, sculptural, and full of character. I’m especially inspired by how she designed her Malibu house and the Proper Hotel in LA—each space tells a layered story with texture, art, and emotion.

The Tura Table. It blends ancient Egyptian inspiration with a contemporary feel and thoughtful material research. It’s not just aesthetic—it carries meaning and innovation.

Stay curious. I constantly research, observe, and revisit my own work with a critical eye. I also surround myself with different disciplines—art, architecture, even science.

I would’ve stayed in the educational field, where I held a leadership role—but deep down, I always knew I’d return to design. It’s where I truly belong.

Design is storytelling through space, form, and material. It’s a way of connecting people emotionally to their environments.

My husband, Ahmed Habib. He’s not only my partner in life but also in architecture and design. We push each other to grow and challenge boundaries.

Curiosity, persistence, and staying authentic. I never follow trends blindly—I focus on meaning, context, and timelessness.

Transitioning from a different career path and proving myself in a new field. Also, working in a competitive industry while staying true to my identity.

With clarity, depth, and intention. Every visual or verbal presentation should reflect the concept, not just the surface aesthetics.

I’m working on an artistic horse stable and lounge in Oman that fuses culture, color, and architecture. I’m also preparing to showcase my work at Milan Design Week next year.

To create timeless designs that carry meaning and emotion—pieces and spaces that leave a lasting impact, culturally and experientially. I also dream of designing something that gives back to the community and enhances people’s lives on a deeper level.

Originality, depth, and consistency. Clients expect me to bring bold ideas while staying grounded in functionality and elegance.

Good design enhances well-being, encourages interaction, and reflects identity. It shapes how people live, feel, and connect with their surroundings.

The horse stable and lounge project in Oman—it blends vibrant culture with contemporary architecture. I’m also developing new furniture pieces that explore material storytelling.

The Tura Table gave me the most satisfaction—it’s deeply symbolic, material-driven, and reflects my passion for merging heritage with innovation. It was also my first internationally awarded furniture piece, which made it even more meaningful.

More recognition for regional voices and cultural narratives. I’d love to see a shift from global sameness to local authenticity.

Toward emotional and sensory design—spaces and products that not only look good but feel personal and meaningful.

It depends on the complexity. A furniture piece usually takes 4 to 8 weeks from concept to prototype, although some prototypes can take several months. Interior projects vary widely and can also extend over several months, especially when they involve custom details and full execution.

I start with listening—understanding the client’s needs, the context, and the emotional story behind the project. Then I build a concept that connects those elements into a cohesive narrative.

Design with meaning, build with care, and always leave a lasting impression.

Good design sets the trends. Trends may come and go, but true design leads by vision, not by following.

Technology is a tool, not the end goal. It helps me visualize, refine, and bring ideas to life, but the essence always starts with a strong concept.

I use a combination of SketchUp, AutoCAD, and 3ds Max for visuals. For prototyping and development, I work closely with fabricators and engineers using CNC, 3D printing, and manual modeling.

They are everything—they set the tone, evoke emotion, and give depth to a space or object. I always select them with intention and cultural sensitivity.

I wish they’d ask about the story behind it—what inspired it, why I chose certain materials, and how it connects to the user’s experience.

I immediately want to understand the process behind it—what drove the idea, what materials were used, and what challenge it solves or emotion it evokes.

My ideal partner is someone who complements my thinking—strategic, open-minded, and detail-oriented. And yes, I strongly believe in co-design. Collaboration always enriches the outcome.

My husband Ahmed Habib has been the most influential—his architectural approach and conceptual thinking constantly push my boundaries and broaden my perspective.

Books on architectural theory, materiality, color psychology, and cultural heritage have deeply influenced me. They shaped the way I think about space, atmosphere, and the emotional impact of design.

Through hands-on experience, constant learning, and pushing myself beyond comfort zones. Every project was a lesson in concept, detail, and execution.

I’d love to sit with Zaha Hadid—her boldness, her vision, and how she transformed boundaries in architecture would be a dream to explore in conversation.

The recognition is humbling—it validates the effort and vision. But fame is not the goal. What matters most is staying grounded and continuing to create with integrity.

Color: Earthy green

Place: Luxor, Hurghada, Cairo, and the Maldives

Food: Anything with fresh herbs and citrus

Season: Fall

Thing: My sketchbook

Brand: Any brand that is locally made and custom crafted

Seeing ideas come to life—whether it’s a sketch turning into a prototype or a mood board shaping a space. That transformation fuels me.

Looking back, yes. I was always rearranging furniture, collecting fabric scraps, and sketching buildings—I just didn’t know it was called “design” yet.

I believe design will become even more human-centered—deeply responsive to emotion, nature, and sustainability. Hopefully, we’ll be more connected to the essence of living well, not just living smart.

Every piece I create comes from a place of meaning and emotion. I don’t design for trends—I design to tell a story, to honor heritage, and to bring beauty into everyday life.

I’ve always been drawn to spaces, materials, and how they make people feel. I studied architecture in 2008, but my true passion has always been interior and furniture design. It’s my way of telling stories — using natural elements to create spaces and objects that connect emotionally and reflect a deeper purpose.

Luxentti is a multidisciplinary design studio with a strong presence in the Gulf region. We specialize in architecture, interiors, landscaping, and furniture design. Our international team brings diverse perspectives, and we focus on natural materials, timeless elegance, and emotionally grounded spaces.

Design, to me, is how we shape the way people live, feel, and connect. It’s not just about beauty — it’s about creating purpose, emotion, and a sense of belonging through every detail.

I’m most drawn to designing spaces and furniture that feel timeless, natural, and emotionally resonant. I love working with raw materials like stone, wood, and metal — pieces that tell a story and connect deeply with the people using them. Whether it’s a serene villa or a sculptural console, I enjoy creating designs that balance function with quiet beauty.

One of my favorite designs is the Tura Table, inspired by the strength of the pyramids and the beauty of Tura stone. I used fiberglass to replicate the texture while keeping it light and practical. I designed it with love, never expecting it would win the Golden Award — that made it even more special.It blends history with modern living.The contrast between rugged texture and sleek glass creates a bold statement.It’s a piece that reflects both my roots and my design philosophy.

The first thing I designed for a company was a small apartment. It was a full interior project that allowed me to explore space optimization, material selection, and layout flow—all within a limited footprint. It taught me how to make every detail count, no matter the scale.

Material: Stone — timeless, grounding, and full of character. It adds depth and honesty to my work.

Platform: Instagram — a space to share stories, connect with a wider audience, and showcase the soul behind each design.

Technology: Modeling technology — it helps bring complex forms to life while balancing beauty and function.

I feel most creative when I’m surrounded by nature or traveling to new places. The change of scenery, textures, and cultures always spark fresh ideas. Silence, space, and raw materials also help me tune in and create with intention.

I focus most on materials, proportion, and emotional impact. I want every piece to feel balanced, natural, and meaningful — not just visually appealing, but also emotionally resonant and functional in real life.

When I design, I feel calm, connected, and inspired. There’s a quiet joy in shaping something from nothing — especially when it feels honest and purposeful. It’s a mix of focus and emotion, where intuition leads and every detail has meaning.

When my designs are realized, I feel a deep sense of fulfillment. It’s emotional to see an idea take physical form and become part of someone’s life. There’s pride, gratitude, and often surprise — especially when others connect with the piece in their own personal way.

A successful design balances beauty, function, and emotion. It feels natural in its environment, serves its purpose well, and resonates with people on a deeper level. When it tells a story and leaves a lasting impression — that’s success to me.

I first look at the balance between form and function. A good design should serve its purpose effortlessly while expressing a clear aesthetic language. Material choice, proportion, and emotional impact also play a key role in how I judge its success.

A designer has a responsibility to create with intention — to design spaces and objects that improve lives, respect the environment, and reflect cultural values. We shape how people live and interact with the world, so our work should be sustainable, inclusive, and meaningful.

Design is evolving toward deeper purpose — it’s no longer just about aesthetics. There’s a growing focus on sustainability, emotional wellbeing, and cultural relevance. The future of design lies in creating experiences that are human-centered, environmentally conscious, and driven by meaningful innovation.

My last exhibition will be at the MOODs exhibition of the A’ Design Award, where I’ll be showcasing my work. I aim to participate in any exhibition related to the A’ Design Award, and I’m planning to present my designs at Milan Design Week next year.

My inspiration comes from nature, history, and the places I travel. I’m drawn to textures, materials, and quiet details that tell a story. I feed my creativity by observing the world around me — from ancient architecture to everyday moments — and by staying curious. I also find inspiration in cultural heritage and raw materials like stone, wood, and metal. They ground my work and connect me to something timeless.

My design style is earthy, luxurious, and emotionally grounded. I’m drawn to natural materials, clean forms, and spaces that feel both refined and rooted. What led me to this style is a deep appreciation for nature, cultural identity, and timeless craftsmanship.The main characteristics of my work are raw textures, balanced proportions, and thoughtful material choices. My approach is always human-centered — I design with feeling, intention, and a strong connection to place.

I live in Egypt, a country rich in history, craftsmanship, and cultural layers. That heritage deeply influences my work — from the use of natural materials like stone to the symbolic storytelling embedded in each design.

The richness of local culture is a constant source of inspiration, but it also comes with challenges like limited access to certain modern materials or technologies. Still, these limitations often push me to be more creative and resourceful, blending tradition with innovation in meaningful ways.

We usually start with an initial consultation to understand the company’s vision, target audience, and spatial needs. From there, we develop a tailored design strategy—whether it’s for a space, a product, or a full identity. Collaboration is key: we work closely with the client’s team through regular presentations and feedback loops to ensure alignment at every stage, from concept development to execution.

Companies should treat designers as creative partners by clearly communicating their goals while allowing room for creativity. Trust, respect, and involving designers early in the process lead to the best outcomes. When selecting a designer, look beyond the portfolio. Choose someone whose style aligns with your vision, who demonstrates strategic thinking, strong communication skills, and a genuine passion for their craft.

My design process starts with deep research and understanding of the client’s vision, needs, and lifestyle. I then move to concept development, where creativity meets strategy to form a clear direction. Through mood boards, sketches, and 3D visualization, I refine the design, ensuring every detail balances aesthetics, function, and emotion. Collaboration with the client throughout the journey is key to achieving a truly personalized result.

1.A custom-designed stone coffee table — designed by myself, reflecting raw beauty and personal expression.

2.A vintage leather armchair — timeless and full of character.

3.Large floor candles placed along the staircase — adding warmth and a soft, inviting glow.

4.Frames showcasing traditional Egyptian Bedouin accessories — bringing culture and authenticity to the space.

5.A large, uniquely designed mirror — a bold and artistic focal point.

My day begins quietly in my dressing room, with a warm cup of coffee that gives me a moment to breathe and reflect. I check on my kids, sharing small moments before the day gets busy, and have breakfast with my husband — a simple routine that grounds me. Then, I move into my creative space, where I sketch, explore ideas, and lose myself in the details that turn passion into design.

Be patient with yourself. Mastery takes time, don’t rush it.

•Stay curious. Inspiration is everywhere — not just in design books.

•Design with feeling. Let your work carry meaning, not just aesthetics.

•Stay humble, but protect your vision. Listen, learn, but don’t lose yourself.

•Keep building. Every project, every sketch, even the mistakes — they all shape your journey.

Being a designer is a beautiful journey where you get to shape spaces, emotions, and experiences. It offers endless creativity, continuous growth, and the deep satisfaction of turning ideas into something meaningful.

But at the same time, it can be emotionally demanding — balancing your vision with client expectations isn’t always easy. There’s a constant pressure to innovate, and sometimes the path feels lonely when few can truly understand the passion behind every detail.

Always design with purpose—every line, material, and detail should serve the story and function of the space.

A balance of creativity, emotional intelligence, attention to detail, and the ability to communicate ideas clearly—visually and verbally.

My toolbox includes software like AutoCAD, SketchUp, and V-Ray for visualization, alongside physical material samples, sketchpads, design books, and an archive of references inspired by nature, history, and travel.

I break down each project into clear phases, set realistic timelines, and rely on a well-structured team workflow to stay on track without compromising quality.

It depends on the complexity, but a furniture piece usually takes between 4 to 8 weeks from concept to prototype.

“Where did the inspiration come from?”—and the answer is almost always rooted in raw materials and natural elements.

Transitioning from the educational field into design and founding Luxentti—a turning point that aligned my passion with my profession.

Private homeowners across the Gulf, boutique hospitality projects, and individuals seeking tailored, high-end interiors and custom furniture.

I enjoy creating statement furniture pieces—they’re sculptural, expressive, and allow me to experiment with materials and forms on an intimate scale.

I’m launching a curated product line under Luxentti and expanding our design presence in the Gulf region with a focus on emotionally rich, nature-inspired interiors.

I lead the creative vision but collaborate with a talented team of designers, architects, and craftsmen to bring each project to life.

Yes, we’re currently developing a new collection of console tables that combine stone, brass, and glass—each one inspired by natural formations and historical architecture.

Through our website luxentti.com, directly via Instagram @luxentti, or by email at mai.ahmedwahdan@gmail.com.

Just a note on values—my designs always aim to connect emotionally with the user, bringing harmony between luxury, nature, and timeless craftsmanship.

The defining moment came during our visit to Oman, where we observed the horses and experienced the client’s equestrian lifestyle firsthand. I realized that the most meaningful part of the experience was not the stable itself, but the connection between people and horses.From that point, the lounge became the heart of the project. Every design decision—from circulation and sightlines to materials and furniture layout—was shaped to strengthen that visual and emotional connection, transforming the stable into a place for gathering, observation, and shared experiences.

Research played a significant role in shaping Maison Equine. We spent time learning about horse behavior, movement patterns, daily routines, and how horses respond to their surroundings. This directly influenced circulation planning, the separation of visitor and service zones, and the visual connection between the lounge and the equestrian areas.The process reinforced an important idea: animal-centered design should not be treated as a technical requirement alone, but as a design philosophy. As designers become more aware of animal wellbeing, I believe future equestrian and animal-related environments will increasingly combine functionality, welfare, and emotional experience within a single integrated design approach.

The climate of Barka was an important consideration throughout the design process. High temperatures influenced both the material selection and the spatial organization of the project, leading us to prioritize durable finishes, shaded circulation areas, and materials suited to demanding environmental conditions. Mechanical cooling systems, including air conditioning and strategically placed fans, were also integrated to enhance comfort for both visitors and horses.Beyond performance, the climate encouraged a design approach that feels connected to its setting rather than imposed upon it. I believe climate-responsive design is essential in the Gulf region, where successful spaces must balance comfort, durability, animal welfare, and cultural identity while responding thoughtfully to local environmental conditions.

The balance came from treating culture and functionality as complementary rather than competing priorities. From the beginning, the goal was not to apply cultural references as decoration, but to create an atmosphere inspired by the warmth, materials, colors, and character of the Omani context while ensuring the facility remained practical, safe, and comfortable for both horses and visitors.Every design decision was evaluated through both lenses. Circulation, durability, ventilation, and operational efficiency were carefully planned, while the material palette, textures, and spatial experience were used to create a sense of place and identity. The result is an environment that feels culturally rooted while fully supporting the daily requirements of an active equestrian facility.

One of the most transformative challenges was learning how to design from the perspective of the horses themselves rather than focusing only on the human experience. This required extensive research into horse behavior, movement patterns, comfort, and daily routines, which influenced many of the project’s planning decisions.Another challenge was balancing the operational requirements of a working equestrian facility with the desire to create an emotionally engaging and culturally expressive environment. Resolving this balance changed my understanding of equestrian design, showing me that these spaces can be much more than functional facilities—they can become immersive environments that create meaningful experiences for both horses and people.

The material and color language of Maison Equine developed through a combination of the client’s personality, the Omani context, and the atmosphere we wanted the space to create. During our visit to Oman, we gained a deeper understanding of the client’s preferences, the local environment, and the emotional connection between the horses and the people who care for them. This naturally guided us toward earthy materials, layered textures, and bold yet warm color compositions.Whenever cultural inspiration, functional requirements, and aesthetic intentions seemed to pull in different directions, functionality remained the foundation. Once the needs of the horses, visitors, and daily operations were resolved, we carefully layered materials, colors, and textures to create a space that felt expressive and memorable without compromising comfort, safety, or usability.

Maison Equine reinforced a direction that has always been important to my work: creating spaces that connect functionality with emotion, culture, and human experience. The project demonstrated that highly specialized environments can still possess a strong sense of identity and atmosphere without compromising their practical requirements.Looking ahead, I see these ideas continuing to influence future projects at Luxentti Design House, particularly those where lifestyle, wellbeing, and cultural context intersect. I also believe that animal-centered design will continue to evolve as a serious discipline, with greater emphasis on understanding behavior, comfort, and welfare while creating spaces that are meaningful for the people who interact with them. Maison Equine showed that functionality, cultural identity, and hospitality can coexist within a single design vision, and I believe this approach will become increasingly relevant in the future.

One aspect that may not be immediately visible is that Maison Equine was designed around relationships rather than spaces. While visitors often notice the materials, colors, or lounge experience, the deeper idea was to strengthen the connection between horses, people, and their daily environment.For me, the project was never only about designing a stable or a lounge. It was about creating a place where functionality, wellbeing, and emotional experience coexist naturally. If there is one idea I would like fellow designers to take away from the project, it is that even highly specialized facilities can be designed with empathy, identity, and a strong sense of human and animal connection.

The inclined ceiling was introduced by the architect as a way to enhance the sense of scale and create a more luxurious spatial experience within the lounge. The varying height helped the space feel more open, generous, and visually impactful, reinforcing its role as the social heart of the project.From an interior design perspective, this architectural gesture became an opportunity to emphasize volume, light, and the connection to the paddock. It elevated the overall atmosphere of the lounge, creating a space that feels welcoming, refined, and memorable while supporting the project’s broader goal of transforming the stable experience into something more immersive and experiential.

Material selection for Maison Equine was guided by a balance of aesthetics, functionality, durability, and suitability for the local environment. Some elements were sourced locally, while others were selected internationally to achieve the desired quality, performance, and design intent.Rather than focusing on the origin of individual materials, the priority was creating a cohesive and authentic experience. The project reinforced the idea that successful design comes from thoughtfully combining the best available resources—whether local or global—to create spaces that feel meaningful, contextually appropriate, and responsive to the needs of their users.

The concept emerged from studying AlUla’s geological formations and the way nature has shaped them over time. I was inspired by their sense of permanence and wanted to translate that into a contemporary living environment. This led to the use of sculpted volumes, monolithic surfaces, natural textures, and carefully framed light, creating spaces that feel carved from the landscape rather than simply built within it.

AlUla’s landscape was the primary influence behind the project. The material palette was inspired by the region’s natural tones and textures, leading to the use of stone-inspired surfaces, earthy colors, and organic forms. Spatially, the design emphasizes framed views, natural light, and a strong connection to the surrounding environment.I believe the future of residential design lies in creating spaces that respond to their context rather than following universal trends. Designs that draw inspiration from their location tend to feel more authentic, meaningful, and timeless.

The use of custom GRC panels allowed us to achieve the visual depth and scale of carved stone while significantly reducing weight and structural demands. The system provided greater design flexibility, enabling the creation of large monolithic surfaces and complex textures that would have been difficult and costly to achieve using solid stone.Beyond this project, I believe such solutions demonstrate how advanced materials can bridge the gap between aesthetics and performance. They offer designers new opportunities to create expressive, large-scale environments while improving efficiency, constructability, and sustainability.

I believe Ridge House’s strongest contribution is its ability to create a genuine sense of place. Rather than applying a universal luxury aesthetic, the design draws directly from the landscape and character of AlUla, transforming local geology into a contemporary living experience. This approach matters deeply to me because I believe the most meaningful designs are those that connect people to their surroundings, creating spaces that feel authentic, timeless, and unique to their location.

One of the most challenging aspects was achieving the visual weight and permanence of natural rock formations while maintaining the comfort and openness expected in a contemporary home. There was a constant effort to balance strong monolithic forms with natural light, soft textures, and generous spatial flow.Working through this challenge reinforced my belief that impactful spaces do not rely on scale or materiality alone. True luxury comes from balance—where powerful architectural expressions coexist with warmth, comfort, and everyday livability.

From the beginning, I wanted the landscape itself to become the project’s primary form of expression. Rather than relying on decorative elements, the design focused on proportion, texture, light, shadow, and material authenticity. Every design decision was evaluated against the original concept: if an element did not strengthen the connection to the geological narrative or improve the living experience, it was removed.This process taught me that restraint can be more powerful than addition. In luxury design, simplicity requires confidence, and I believe spaces often become more timeless when they are defined by clarity, material honesty, and a strong sense of purpose rather than excess.

Ridge House reinforced our belief that the most meaningful spaces are those shaped by their context, culture, and environment. Moving forward, this philosophy will continue to guide Luxentti’s work, encouraging us to create designs that are deeply connected to place rather than driven by global trends.We are particularly interested in further exploring innovative materials, biophilic design strategies, and contemporary interpretations of regional identity. Ridge House has established a foundation for creating experiences that are both timeless and locally rooted, and we look forward to expanding this approach across future residential and hospitality projects.

I hope Ridge House demonstrates that luxury can be expressed through authenticity, context, and material honesty rather than excess. By drawing inspiration from AlUla’s landscape and translating it into a contemporary living environment, the project shows how architecture and interiors can create a deeper connection between people and place.Its lasting legacy, I hope, will be encouraging designers and clients to embrace designs that are culturally grounded, environmentally responsive, and timeless in character. Ultimately, Ridge House is a reminder that meaningful luxury comes from creating spaces that belong to their surroundings and enrich everyday life.

Light was considered a fundamental part of the design from the earliest stages of the project. Since the concept was inspired by AlUla’s geological formations, it became clear that light would be essential in revealing texture, depth, and the sculptural quality of the surfaces. Rather than simply illuminating the spaces, the lighting was designed to interact with the architecture, emphasizing shadows, material transitions, and spatial volume.The use of recessed grazing light within the cladding junctions helped animate the surfaces throughout the day and night, enhancing the perception of depth and creating a more immersive atmosphere. In this sense, light became an architectural material in its own right, shaping how the spaces are experienced and understood.

The central living space was carefully designed to balance openness with comfort. The 7.2-meter height and full-height glazing were intended to capture the scale and beauty of AlUla’s landscape, creating a strong visual connection between the interior and its surroundings. At the same time, the proportions, material palette, and furniture layout were used to establish a sense of warmth and human scale within the larger volume.The goal was never to create a theatrical space, but rather one that evokes a feeling of calm and wonder. By combining expansive views with natural materials, controlled lighting, and intimate seating arrangements, the space remains both monumental and welcoming.

The inspiration for the Tura Table began with a deep admiration for ancient Egyptian architecture—specifically the enduring symbolism and precision of the pyramids. I was particularly drawn to the Tura limestone, once used to clad the Great Pyramid, for its refined texture and cultural significance. I sought to honor this material’s legacy through a modern lens, focusing on expressive forms and structural clarity. The pyramid’s stable triangular base became a guiding principle. The three sculptural bases of the table echo this geometry, celebrating balance, permanence, and simplicity in form.

This interplay between visual weight and transparency was a conscious attempt to create a table that feels grounded yet elevated. The sculptural bases, with their stone-like appearance, suggest mass and history. In contrast, the crystal-clear glass top hovers above them, introducing lightness and air. This juxtaposition reflects how we often experience culture and time—anchored by heritage but always looking forward. I was fascinated by how opposites could coexist in one form: solid yet floating, ancient yet modern. It’s a silent conversation between permanence and impermanence, designed to evoke emotion and curiosity within any space.

Sustainability was at the heart of this project from the beginning. I wanted to replicate the appearance and texture of Tura limestone without the environmental impact of quarrying or transporting heavy stone. Fiberglass allowed for that expression while significantly reducing weight and material consumption. It also minimized the carbon footprint associated with production and logistics. Furthermore, the durable nature of fiberglass ensures longevity, making the Tura Table a lasting piece rather than a disposable item. This aligns with my philosophy of conscious design—creating meaningful, lasting objects that honor the past while being responsible toward the future.

One of the main challenges was to find a bonding solution that would be both structurally sound and visually discreet. We tested several adhesives, but most either left visible marks or interfered with the clarity of the glass. Eventually, we selected a transparent, UV-resistant silicone with high bonding strength and flexibility. The real difficulty was in the assembly: aligning three independent sculptural bases so that they connected perfectly with the glass without introducing stress or imbalance. We developed a customized jig system during prototyping that allowed for millimeter-precise positioning. This ensured both the seamless visual integration and the long-term structural reliability of the table.

Ancient Egyptian design principles were deeply rooted in harmony and proportion, often tied to human scale and cosmic order. I wanted the Tura Table to echo that intentionality. The 850mm square footprint provides a visual stability and allows the bases to be spaced in a balanced triangular formation. The 450mm height was chosen for comfort, aligning with contemporary furniture ergonomics while maintaining a low, grounded presence—similar to ancient stone plinths. These measurements also allow the table to function flexibly in various interiors, from residential to gallery-like spaces. They were not arbitrary, but carefully refined through iterative models and proportional studies that tied back to both ancient logic and modern use.

Winning the Golden A’ Design Award confirmed for me that exploring cultural narratives through new material applications has a place in contemporary design. With the Tura Table, I intentionally stepped away from conventional materials and instead focused on material storytelling. By shaping fiberglass into monolithic forms and using bonding techniques that blur visual seams, I was able to create a piece that challenges expectations—both in texture and assembly. The goal was not just aesthetic but experiential: to make a table that speaks to memory, emotion, and form. I believe this layered approach—where every detail serves both function and story—is how we expand the future of design.

Nature has always played a pivotal role in how I interpret form. The Tura Table’s bases are not rigid geometric prisms; they’re subtly organic, echoing the way stone erodes over time. This wasn’t accidental. I wanted the table to feel sculpted by nature as much as by human hand. My design philosophy is about finding softness in structure—integrating organic elements into modern living spaces to create emotional warmth. In a time when technology dominates our environments, tactile, grounded forms offer balance. The Tura Table is part of my broader vision to reconnect design with nature—not just visually, but emotionally and spatially.

The three-point system was chosen for its inherent stability—three points always define a plane, regardless of surface irregularity. This was critical to ensure the table’s balance. However, creating that engineering reliability while maintaining a floating, sculptural quality required detailed analysis. Each base had to be angled precisely to share the load and prevent tipping, especially under uneven pressure. We conducted both digital simulations and physical stress tests to validate the geometry. The result is a structure that feels light and almost effortless, but is, in fact, the outcome of rigorous engineering and careful calibration.

Luxentti is rooted in the belief that design should reflect both where we come from and where we’re going. The Tura Table embodies that mission by transforming a culturally significant material—Tura limestone—into a new form that suits modern life. It’s not just about aesthetics; it’s about embedding identity, memory, and place into design. At Luxentti, we constantly seek to merge cultural storytelling with refined craftsmanship and innovative processes. This table is a statement of that blend. It proves that cultural design can be subtle, sophisticated, and globally resonant—all while staying deeply personal.

The Tura Table has become a design benchmark for how I approach future work. It reaffirmed my belief in the power of narrative design—where each piece carries meaning beyond function. Moving forward, I intend to expand this language into a full collection that explores regional materials and forms with the same sculptural sensibility. I’m currently researching other historic textures and cultural symbols that can be reinterpreted through modern techniques. The success of Tura also encourages me to invest more in material experimentation—finding new ways to bring lightness, tactility, and identity into every piece. It’s the beginning of a story that’s still unfolding.