The Art of Rest | Inside Jem Juthamat’s Sanctuary

For Jem Juthamat of Dosse Studios, creativity is more than simply a profession – it’s a way of seeing the world. With a distinctly personal approach to design and an appreciation for the beauty found in considered details, Jem creates with an instinct that feels both expressive and intentional. In this edition of The Art of Rest, we discover what inspires her, how she creates space to switch off, and the rituals that bring a sense of calm to her creative life.

Your work is rooted in a distinctly personal creative vision. What is it about the creative process that continues to draw you in, and how do you protect space for inspiration when life and work become busy?

I think I’m drawn to the fact that there’s never really a finished answer. I can walk into a room and immediately start thinking about what could change. Sometimes it’s the light. Sometimes something feels off and I don’t even know why yet. I’ll move a chair, take something away, live with it for a few days. That part still excites me.

My work is personal because a lot of it comes from how I actually live. I’m not very good at separating design from everyday life. I notice things everywhere.

When work gets busy, I’ve learnt that forcing myself to be creative usually gives me the worst ideas. I need to get away from the screen. I’ll clean the house, put music on, go somewhere, rearrange something for absolutely no reason. That’s normally when an idea comes back. I don’t really schedule inspiration but instead give it room to find me.

There’s something deeply considered about the way we shape the spaces we live in. When it came to creating your bedroom, what feeling did you want it to evoke – and what role does your Heatherly Orlando bed play in creating that sense of sanctuary?

I wanted our bedroom to feel like somewhere I could exhale. The room itself has gone through such a transformation, so I was very conscious of not filling it just because I could. I wanted warmth, softness and the things that felt good to be around.

The Heatherly Orlando bed became the anchor for that. I chose a wider bedhead because I wanted it to have more presence and almost wrap around the bed rather than feel like another piece of furniture sitting against a wall. It changed the proportions of the whole room. And I love that it’s upholstered. There’s something about that softness that immediately makes a bedroom feel different.

I spend so much of my working life thinking about other people’s homes. This room needed to feel like mine.

When you spend your working life creating, making and thinking, the temptation can be to keep going. What helps you recognise when you need to step away, and what does stepping away look like for you?

Usually I know because I start overthinking everything. Something that should take ten minutes suddenly takes an hour. I’m moving the same thing backwards and forwards. Nothing looks right. That’s normally my sign that I’m done. I used to think I had to push through it but now I know there’s not much point.

Stepping away can be really ordinary – I’ll shower, clean, put my phone down or go and lie on the bed for a while. Sometimes I need to leave the house completely.

I’m still learning this, though. I love what I do, which is probably why switching off can be difficult. My brain will happily keep designing long after I’ve technically stopped working.

Rest can be found in the smallest rituals rather than grand gestures. Are there particular morning or evening rituals that help you transition from the pace of the day into a slower state of mind?

My rituals are actually very simple. I like opening doors or windows in the morning and letting fresh air into the house. I make the bed and tidy things as I go. Those little things make me feel like the day has started properly.

At night I’m the opposite and want less light – lamps on, main lights off. I love having music playing in the house, and I’m quite particular about how the bedroom feels before I get into bed.

I also find cleaning strangely calming. I know that doesn’t sound like rest to everyone, but for me it clears my head. If the space around me feels settled, I settle much faster too. There’s nothing elaborate about it, but I think that’s why it works.

Your creative work asks you to be highly attuned – to detail, feeling and the world around you. Where do you find inspiration when you’re not actively looking for it, and how does rest influence your creative perspective?

Probably everywhere I’m not supposed to be looking for it – a restaurant, an old building or someone’s garden. The colour of something in completely different light. Music does it a lot too. Sometimes it creates an entire mood in my head before I have any idea what I’m going to do with it.

I’m also influenced by the way I grew up and the things I’ve carried with me. There are memories attached to objects, food, places and the way a home feels. I think all of that ends up somewhere in my work, even when I’m not consciously putting it there.

Rest gives me enough distance to notice those things again. When I’ve been looking at interiors all day, I can actually stop seeing. Once I step away, my instincts come back.

The bedroom is perhaps the one space where we can put down the roles we carry throughout the day. What does your bedroom allow you to leave at the door, and who do you become when you’re in that space?

A lot. I’m a designer and I create content. I’m also a wife and a mum. There’s always someone needing something, something that needs finishing, an email I could answer or an idea sitting in my head.

In the bedroom I don’t want to be any of that for a while. I can just be Jem. That sounds ridiculously simple, but I think that’s what I need from the room. I don’t want to walk in and immediately see work. I want to get into bed, talk to my husband, watch something, scroll for longer than I should sometimes, and switch off.

It’s probably the least performative room in my life and I like it that way.

If you were to describe “the art of rest” through your own creative lens, what would it look and feel like?

For me, the art of rest is having nowhere else I need to be for a moment. It’s a bed I actually want to get into with crumpled linen, a lamp instead of the main light and music playing somewhere in the background. Maybe the house isn’t completely perfect and there are things I should probably be doing, but I decide they can wait.

I think I used to see rest as something you earned after everything was done. The problem is, everything is never done. So now I see it differently. Rest is part of how I keep creating.

Sometimes the best thing I can do for an idea is leave it alone. And sometimes I just need to leave myself alone too.

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