The Spirituality of Design

Imagine two seemingly disparate experiences. First, picture the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. When you first see it, this Frank Gehry masterpiece, with its chaotic swirl of titanium, glass, and limestone, is hard to wrap your head around. It's undulating, it's shimmering, it's... different. And then, when you step inside, you're led on this winding journey upward, with art unfurling around you in a gentle spiral. It's unexpected, disorienting, yet beautiful.

Next, consider the intricate balance and harmony of a challenging yoga pose, a practice of the body and spirit, connecting you to the present moment and the world around.

Both these experiences, in their unique ways, can stir in us a sense of awe, an experience of stillness, an elevation of spirit. Both of them can shape our sense of well-being. But how?

That's precisely what we'll explore today with our guest, Rachael H. Grochowski, an architect with a deep understanding of the relationship between the material and spiritual in the spaces we inhabit.

Rachael is an award-winning architect and designer who is leading the conversation of designing what truly matters. She believes that design surpasses simply being beautiful -- design has the power to inspire a sense of calm, interconnectedness, presence, and gratitude, leading to the belief that “Design is Spiritual.” As an architect and designer, a traveler and seeker, and both a yoga student and teacher, her personal and professional mission has been to guide others toward environments that make them feel grounded in their histories and inspired to grow into their futures. Under Rachael’s stewardship, her firm RHG Architecture + Design has built and designed award-winning residential, commercial, and hospitality projects that are each defined by a spiritual evolution of collective care. Rachael’s work has been featured in Architectural Digest, Forbes, Interior Design Magazine, Interiors Magazine, Fast Company, Aspire, MindBodyGreen, Hospitality Design, Sweet Jane, and Open House NYC among others.

Rachael infuses core principles of yoga into her designs. She talks about creating connections with nature through large windows, framing views to the outside world, and using materials that express the earthiness of our existence. She tries to create not just structures but experiences that connect us with nature, that ground us, and help us to relax and be at home. She uses views, materials, and textures to create environments where our parasympathetic nervous system — the part of us that calms and grounds — can thrive.

Rachael believes in the power of the unexpected, of transitions that catch us off guard and make us pause, to appreciate the beauty in our surroundings. Just like transitioning from a challenging yoga pose to a calming savasana, it's these shifts that allow us to feel grounded and truly appreciate our spaces. She cautions us that "If everything is beautiful, then nothing is beautiful." Beauty, she insists, is "in between the inhale and the exhale, in between the curve and the line, in between the bright and the dark." Moments of contrast, transition, and surprise help us to appreciate beauty. Just like stepping into the Guggenheim Bilbao and being led on an unexpected journey, these moments of change infused into design can catch us off guard and inspire awe.

Join us as we explore the intersection of beauty, spirituality, and design. You can watch or listen to our episode below. An unedited transcript follows.

Subscribe wherever you get your podcasts: iOS | Android | Spotify | RSS | Amazon | Stitcher | Podvine

Interview Transcript

Brandon: Rachael, it is such a pleasure to have you with us today. Thank you for joining us.

Rachael: Thank you so much. It's such an honor to be here and to talk about this topic.

Brandon: To start with, can you tell us about your childhood? Were you drawn to architecture at an early age? Did you find yourself particularly attentive to the role of space and of design?

Rachael: You know, I love this question. Because on a daily basis, I feel like people tell me that their children want to be architects or designers, and could I speak to their kid. Or, they tell me that they themselves wanted to be an architect, but they never quite made it there. For me, it wasn't something that I really understood early on. I think I didn't even really know that that was a thing. I had uncles who were contractors and my grandfather who was in the industry of development. But for whatever reason, that just wasn't part of my language. And so I was very artsy. I enjoyed the expression or the feeling maybe of what it felt like to create. I definitely was a crafter and all of those things.

But it wasn't until I started traveling when I was maybe in my late teens, maybe late tweens. I was maybe like 15. It was the first time that I went to Europe. That was when I started to think about architecture. Because I was now in a space where, in some ways, it felt like what I would describe now as a sacred place. Like now I might go to South Dakota, or to India, or to Cuba, and be in a place that it feels sacred. At the time, because of all of the generations of history, when I went to Europe, there was a similar essence because I hadn't experienced that in the United States. This understanding of architecture on the scale and longevity of generations of joy, of tears, of celebration, all of this, the residual of those moments is left behind in the architecture of a culture of environment. I could feel that. I couldn't quite put it into words at the time, but that sat with me. That's when I started to get interested in this idea of becoming an architect.

Brandon: Wonderful. Thank you. I was just in Italy a few weeks ago, and what you're saying really resonates tremendously with this idea of the residual memory of places. But what about the role of beauty? That's one of the things that I'd love to hear your thoughts about. In your childhood, when you think of that word, what memories come to your mind? What do you associate that term with?

Rachael: I'm going to sort of tie this back to my yogic world. Because in yoga and meditation, early on in my learning, we would always talk about like what is the place. Like, what is your place when you think about peace or you think about safety or whatever? What is the place that makes you feel good?

For me, I would always go back to my grandparents' cottage. My grandparents' cottage was in northern Wisconsin. It was a place that I would run around outside. It was a place that I found my love of the water, and they also had built this cottage. It was a contemporary cottage. It was outside of the familiarity of the spaces that I lived in otherwise, because I had double height spaces. It was kind of mid-century modern and walls of glass. It wasn't a big cottage. But it was a place that I felt like I was invited into noticing my surroundings in a way, of which they changed the relationship of humans to each other like the way that we, as a family, operated. I started to see the beauty of architecture at that point. I started to see beauty in, I guess, life — beauty in relationship, beauty in nature, beauty in all of these things.

Later — I'm going to kind of jump around a little bit, so hopefully this makes sense — when I went to grad school, I integrated some of those pieces into what was ultimately my thesis project, which happened to be a retreat center for wellness. Some of the elements like the double height space and the walls of glass and the inner relationship between nature and the built environment of nature found their way into the architecture of that project. Then later, once I started my family and I moved out to Montclair, New Jersey, I ended up buying a house that is like a larger scale replica of my grandparents' cottage. It was like recreating the beauty that I experienced as a child. So I was aware of that somehow within myself. It wasn't always very top of mind. Some of these things just unfold.

Brandon: Do you have an example that comes to mind of how you just mentioned that encountering that space somehow changed your relationship to others there? Is there a particular element that stands out there that you can recognize?

Rachael: Yeah, I mean, the spaciousness of somehow double height space has a spaciousness to it. It invites people being together but doing their own thing, so that togetherness doesn't always have to be at the table. It can be like one person is over on the sofa reading a book. Another person is playing a game or card. And yet, there's still this sense that you're there in it together.

Brandon: Okay. Well, great. Talk a bit more about your trajectory. You mentioned you've done this project in your graduate work. But what drew you, I suppose, to pursue a career in architecture? How did that evolve? Particularly, your sense of beauty or whatever that has meant to you over time, has that changed? Are there common threads that connect that? How do you see that?

Rachael: When I went to architecture school — well, actually, I started out my undergraduate degree in architectural history. I had this idea that I wanted to do like historic preservation, because of what I was talking about when I first found architecture. Then I realized I actually wanted to create. I didn't want to just preserve. I wanted to create something, and I obviously went to school for architecture. I think in the beginning of my career, it was very much about control organization to create beauty. It was like an intellectual beauty. I think, to some extent, that's what we're taught as architects. It's this way it's constrained. My personal evolution, I started my career in a much more tectonic kind of architecture. At some point, I started to feel not very fulfilled by that. It felt very, quite frankly, empty. I was just creating beauty for the idea of vanity. Beauty was just about what it looked like. I think beauty, true beauty, is the combination of what it looks like and what it feels like.

As I continue to evolve as a creative, as an architect and a designer, I started to recognize this experiential combination — so whether it's like the positive and negative space, or whether it's the smooth and the soft, or the hard and the soft, or the loud and the quiet. Again, I often go back to yoga as my essence. I feel like it's the yoga of architecture, that it's in between the inhale and the exhale that you actually see the beauty. That's true bliss. That's where we can notice where we can be present. Beauty, to me, is that combination. It's that combination. It's where we're able to be aware of our surroundings. Sometimes, for me, that can be and actually I can look behind me in the screen even and say that where you see the architectural detail of the past and the clean line of the current moment, it's that meeting point. It's between the inhale and the exhale. That's where the beauty lies.

Brandon: Fantastic. The term beauty though in architecture is seen by a lot of people as outmoded. Did you have discussions about the concept either when you were in graduate school, working with your colleagues? Is that sort of a term that was meaningful to other people? Is that a term that's even used among professionals in your field?

Rachael: You know what? It's actually wasn't used. It really wasn't used. We talked more about balance, about proportion. It really depended, I guess, on the individual. We talked about materiality. But we didn't so much talk about beauty. Maybe it's that we had other words, depending on what you were designing. Like as an example, if you're designing a restaurant or a hospitality space, you might be talking about you want it to be sexy, or you want it to be spacious. But the word beauty becomes almost like not descript enough. It's hard to define. I mean, that's what we're talking about. It's hard to define. For everyone, it means something different.

For me, I interpreted design as — I ask clients this all the time — like how you want it to feel. Because I came from architectural history, I would often kind of talk about the energy of a building. Again, the energy that is in it and how you create good energy. If you're building a new building, how do you create good energy? If you're talking about an existing structure, how do you either retain the good energy? Or if it's kind of been dissected, or I'll say disrespected over time, how do you open the energy back up so that it feels spacious and joyful? But it's really, to me, it's about like how do you feel? How do you want to feel in the space?

Architecture, initially, was about protecting us. It was like a base need. As architecture became something more than that, it was about getting closer to God or nature or however you interpret that word. And so, to me, that's where the beauty came in.

Brandon: Yeah, we'll talk more about spirituality and its role then in your evolution as an architect. You mentioned yoga. But I mean, more generally, I'm curious to know how your own spiritual commitments and perspective has shaped the work you've done.

Rachael: To me, spirituality is very much about values and ethics. When I look at architecture and design, I want to infuse it with that. Truth, as an example. Truth — I believe that when you have even small non-truths, they reside within you and they kind of fester. You might not be able to articulate that, but it doesn't feel good if you tell a non-truth.

In design, the beauty is the truth of the material. So I like to invite people into the recognition, for example, even if you're talking about a kitchen countertop which is of natural stone. And the truth is this is real stone that took thousands of years to be created. The colors and the texture came from this energy that we have no control over. And so now it's our reverence for this material that it's giving back to us or given to us as a gift. And so when we start to ritualize and revere that which surrounds us, there's a spiritual nature to it. There's a spiritual nature to living. There's a spiritual ritualistic quality to the experiences that we have with our built environment. To me, that again goes back to beauty. That's the beauty of life, right?

Then there's the other layer which is about — I know I talked about nature and how the collaboration of nature and the built environment, but also humanity. I often talk about — the best way to say it is it's the community of individuals who come together in unity, in collaboration, to create our built environment. There's an honoring. There's a sustainability. There's a gift of not just their labor but their love in order to create spaces that we are in. To me, that's very spiritual. It's about humanity and how we're interrelated.

Brandon: Right. I suppose yeah, you even mentioned from your early experience of how you were able to recognize the effect of space in connecting us to each other, and then shaping our relationship to each other and to nature. I think that that's really important. You also mentioned in your work how the design can lead to a sense of calm and can shape our sense of well-being. What have you found in your practice about the relationship between space and wellness?

Rachael: There are so many sort of small elements that I like to bring into a project. It's usually a connection with nature through large windows, through framed views, out to maybe a tree or a specific mountain scape, or sometimes even your neighbor's garden. So it's definitely the connection between inside and outside. We spend 90% of our time inside in this connection like we are nature. So that's important. That's about our wellness. That starts to help our parasympathetic nervous system be activated. So that's where we start to feel more calm.

Again, it's bringing in materials. As I was mentioning with the countertop, expressing the wood in the grain of the wood, it's talking about the history. It's the textures using natural fibers, natural materials. These are all things that can help us feel grounded. When we feel grounded, we have this ability to exhale. Again, it's our parasympathetic nervous system. We begin our shoulders relaxed. Our mind starts to clear. That's when we can truly enjoy our lives — when we can actually connect with others, when we can actually connect with ourselves. It's always about returning home. And we can see what we're grateful for.

In design, there's this other piece of it which is creating — I say a lot that. If everything is beautiful, then nothing is beautiful. So it's like the overabundance can sometimes put us into this place where we actually can't see what is beautiful. So when I'm designing, maybe there is a beautiful piece of art on the wall, and the furniture is really simple. Or maybe there's a confined lower ceiling kind of area that opens up into this expansive space. Because it's that moment. It's like that transition moment where you're like, uh. It makes me think about when the sun rises, and you don't realize. You wake up and you look out the window, and the sun is rising. You exclaim without even thinking, like, uh, that's beautiful. That's what we're trying to do in design.

Brandon: Right. A lot of ideas came to my mind as you were talking. One of the things, I've been studying scientists for a long time now. Even a lot of them work in dark dingy labs. The effect on well-being, they're pretty aware, is pretty horrible. No access to natural light and green spaces and so on. Do you have any suggestions for people who are stuck in those sorts of environments? What can one do in terms of design when you really can't cut a window through a basement wall? Are there ways in which you can modify space in that sort of highly technological environment that could improve your sense of well-being?

Rachael: For sure. The first thing that comes to mind is art — art of sunset, art of nature. I don't know why this popped up over the weekend. But my 15-year-old had asked for this little light for Christmas. It looked like it was the sun. It's just like a little circle of light. You can use things like this anywhere. Or I have another lamp in my house that looks like the moon. And when I turn that on, it's just soothing. So there's these little nodes or little hints towards nature that can be brought in and just as a reminder that it exists.

In a lab, obviously, you can't bring in plants and things like that. That's what I think about as another element that, at least, in an office really helps remind us. Again, in an office, I think about aroma, bringing in essential oils. But again, in the lab, that's not really something that you can do. So there's kind of limitations. So I think in a lab, I would focus on lighting and art, like little lighting that's not distracting to the work that one is doing. But just kind of look over.

Just funny enough, a couple of weeks ago, an article popped up about these really beautiful light fixtures out there in the world. Some of them are extraordinarily expensive. Something came up, that IKEA has these new light fixtures that are meant to evoke emotion. They're mostly knock-offs of very expensive fixtures. They have this one that just looks like a moon. It has a mirror and the light slips out from the side. It really is peaceful. It does create a sense of calm just looking at it. So they're all over the place. I think these are good ways to sort of remind us that there's a world out there and help us kind of exhale.

Brandon: Yeah, fantastic. What about the role of ugliness in architecture? Is that something that designers try to ever build in any way? I know there's certain forms of architecture that seem to celebrate ugliness in a certain sense. But do you see it as having any value within your perspective?

Rachael: I think it's because it's so subjective, I don't know specifically. But I can guess where you might be mentioning that ugliness can be celebrated sometimes. Funny enough, I'm pretty sure there are some people who think that style of architecture is actually really beautiful.

Brandon: Sure.

Rachael: And so therefore, it all becomes very subjective. It's also a moment in time. Because as I was saying that earlier on, that architecture can often be about constraints and control, that can be perceived as ugly or that can be perceived as, for some people, peaceful because there's nothing to think about. It's so simple. It's so minimalist. It's so brutalist. It could be bliss for some people. Whereas other people are just like, "What are you looking at?" So maybe it's just the juxtaposition of the two. Maybe that's the place that it has. It's the juxtaposition of the two so that individuals can make a judgment on what is peaceful to them.

Because one of the things I think about in design is that you often create — this might be true in all parts of our lives. We recreate what we most need as individuals. For me, I'm always looking towards creating peaceful spaces that have enough warmth and welcome, but not so much that I can't focus or think about where the beauty does lie. For other people, maximalism is what makes them feel comfortable. For others, it's like really bright, bright colors and joy. They want to elicit this idea of joy in their space. While others, it's like calm. I think it continually goes back to how do you feel and how do you want to feel.

Brandon: You've sent a couple of images, which our listeners may not see. But we'll put them up on our YouTube channel. Talk me through those images. What do you hope to communicate there, and what inspires you in those photos that you sent?

Rachael: One of the images is a framed view looking out into nature. There's this reflective light fixture that has a bit of romance to it. The whole room, the essence of the room, almost has this blurred edge. It's a very modern space, double height. The space is flow. So you can't entirely see this in the image, but the space flows from the inside to the outside and then from your living room and dining room towards what is the unknown in this image.

What that conveys to me is this idea of connection and — in particular, I think both images I sent were residential projects — again, as I was talking about before, how even participating in our own activities, we are still together. We are still together and effectively that we need each other.

The other image was a fireplace. There were a couple of things about it. The mantel and the hearth, and the whole essence of the fireplace is a slate. It was designed with some sort of harken back to history. It's like this blend between a historic detail and modern design, partially because it's in a historic house. This family was moving into the way they wanted to live. But you don't turn your back on the past. You hold a piece of the history, and you plan for the future so that you can be in the moment. And so the details of that fireplace were a bit of this. It was like this idea that we can both put one foot in each side so that we can actually be here. For me, that goes back to spirituality. It goes back to the essence of my personal belief about design, about life. It kind of wraps it all into one.

Brandon: Great. Where do you see your trajectory unfolding? What are you looking forward to? What are you working on these days? Tell us a little bit about how you're seeing the future.

Rachael: First of all, the way life unfolds is pretty magical. I look back at everything from my childhood in northern Wisconsin to growing up in Colorado, to this thesis project, this wellness retreat that I did in school to where I am today. Right now, we're starting working on an Ayurvedic farm in New Jersey, which is pretty interesting and exciting. Obviously, talking about regenerative farming and utilizing the historic buildings, farm buildings, and turning them into spaces where what's being grown can actually be infused with ceremony. We're also in the process of talking with somebody about a workforce equitable multifamily development, where the idea is that wellness is for everyone. It's embedded into the community in a way that not just the wealthy can experience this. So that's really beautiful to me.

We are also working on a number of cannabis dispensaries where we're talking about plant medicine as a way for people to heal, which is also really exciting and interesting. These are all things that, for me, my roots being in Northern — I didn't grow up in the northern part of Wisconsin. It's like my life has been all over the place. But this idea that we're all in this together, we can create spaces and places that will nurture all of humanity are the types of projects that I want to do. That's where I feel like my true value, my true authenticity can continue through the projects. We've got lots of different types of projects.

Even when I talk about residential projects, people asked me how I moved into residential. It was really about how that can change a relationship in a family. I had one couple tell me that — we started working on their house, and they had the top floor of the house to themself. They each had separate bathrooms. That seems like a really ridiculous thing to tell you. But they ended up joining the bathrooms. So they had separate bathrooms. They joined the bathrooms. They were kind of like, "Oh, I don't know. He's messy. She's not. We're vice versa," whatever it was. Anyway, fast forward to the built environment, six months down the road and they said to me, "We've never spoken to each other more than we do now that we share a bathroom." That was the only time as a very busy family that they had together alone, and it changed their relationship. We're working on projects that we're focusing on creating community and wellness and equity.

Brandon: Wow. That's fantastic. One of the things I've been thinking about lately is the relationship between beauty and hope. I wonder if you might be able to comment. Because I think it's tied to these themes, I think, how our use of space shape our sense of hope, particularly in environments that increasingly are more anxiety ridden and conflictual.

Rachael: Yeah, that's a great question. I was thinking about this actually over the weekend. Again, it goes back to the pause. We can only feel hopeful, optimistic when we are calm or when we can breathe. And so design, there's two spaces and then through community. Design that supports community supports coming together, and supports being present can allow us to remember hope. I think we're intuitively hopeful. I think it's just that we — well, maybe not. I'd like to believe we're intuitively helpful. But I think when we get caught up into the daily activities, we're unable to see that hope. And so it's those spaces that invite us into the present moment.

Brandon: Do you find personally any obstacles to encountering beauty in your work? Any challenges and ways to perhaps overcome those challenges or challenges that you're still trying to figure out ways to overcome?

Rachael: Challenges? Sure. I mean, one would be trust. I find that clients who come to us, specifically because we're having the conversation about beauty and peace in architecture and design, are the ones who have the hardest time letting go. Because they have such a — I want to say that they have such a big expectation, but it's like they have words around what they're looking for. And so the fear that they're not going to get there can sometimes be a barrier to getting there. Whereas clients who come to us who don't always realize what their goal is, maybe their goal is just to have a fresh start. It's like their goal is to have a new kitchen, or they feel like it's new, or a new restaurant, or whatever it is, a new movie theater. They're just, "I just want it to be new." It gives us this opportunity to mine the work behind the scenes, in a way that we can deliver it to them without resistance. The end result is often, "Wow. I didn't realize my life could feel like this. I didn't realize that every time I was going to walk into my home or walk into the restaurant, I was going to feel this peace."

We did this spa. I guess we finished it about a year and a half ago. Even still, the client posts on social media all the time, "It still feels fresh every time I come in. It feels like peace every time I walk in the space. It feels like joy. It feels like beauty." It still elicits this sensation every time she goes into the space. She couldn't articulate what she was looking for, but that was just like what we delivered up. But there was a lot of trust there. So that's a big barrier at times — people attaching to what they think they want, and not being able to let it unfold. Because ultimately, that is life. That's designed too. That is how we get to beauty. It's kind of being the witness. It's the witness of how it unfolds. Other barriers are economic.

Brandon: What do you do in those cases with trust? I mean, how do you help somebody build that trust? Is that something that just depends on the person? Like if someone is really locked into a particular idea, that just remains a struggle, or are there ways in which you find that you can enable somebody to trust?

Rachael: Most of the time, we can enable them to trust by asking a lot of questions. What is the root of the goal? Once I start asking questions about what is it that you like about red, or what is it that you like about this shape of space, or this connection to the next room, or whatever it is, this material, I can start to understand the biases that they have in their mind. Once I understand the bias, I can take that narrative and mold it into something that resonates for them. So it's understanding there's a lot of psychology behind it. Quite frankly, I often do feel that we can make almost anything beautiful. We can change the energy in almost any space once we understand what it is that's not working or what the goal is or what the struggle is.

Brandon: Right. It depends on knowing what it is that the person wants. Is that the key thing?

Rachael: As an example, I might say to someone, "Send me some inspiration images of—" Let's say we're doing a restaurant. "Send me some inspiration images of what you think resonates with you, or what you want your brand to be about." Maybe all of those images are vastly different. Maybe they don't. I have to go through those images and find what is the thread. Then once I name it, then I can say, "I see all of these images. This is the thread I see through them. Is this what for you was meaningful?" Most of the time, I can find it. If I'm not right, then I can start to say, "Okay. So I see that you have this big wall that has a mural on it. Is it the shape of the visual in the mural? Is that the color? What is it that excites you about this?" I can ask all of these questions that then lead us down that path. That's ultimately, again, it's like trying to understand who is on the other side, whether it's a family, whether it's a brand, whether it's a community. Obviously, communities are the hardest because you've got lots of different opinions, different ideas of what it should be. Sometimes it's a tall order.

We're in the process of talking to a temple right now. We'll see if we end up working on this project. They had gotten threats against them. And so there was a lot of discomfort in the community. Part of our job would be to help them find safety again. So find safety through design. How do you do that? That's a tall order in some ways. But actually, to me, that's one of the most beautiful challenges that you can have. Because it's about bringing a community together. It's about healing. It's about how design really does change the world or can change the world.

Brandon: Yeah, well, you were saying economic was the other factor. Can you say more about that?

Rachael: Well, economics often create creative challenge, for example. I've long believed, I had the belief that everyone deserves quality design. But the materials are expensive. Earlier, I was talking about truth. I was talking about my personal opinion about using materials in truthful ways. When the dollars come in and projects maybe are not financially sustainable, you have to start making trade-offs. Those trade-offs might look like now we're going to use fake wood or fake stone. So that sometimes gets to be hard. I don't know. I think about Howard Roark all the time. I don't know if you read The Fountainhead. He was like this purist. When his building didn't get built to his specification, he blew up the building. He was like, "I don't want it then." It's playing this line between here's the pristine, ethical, value-driven concept and what reality is. They don't always align. So you have to balance those two things to deliver up the best that you can.

Brandon: Perfect can become the enemy of the good there, I suppose.

Rachael: Exactly.

Brandon: Yeah, well, great. Any final thoughts? Any advice you might have to those who are perhaps struggling to find beauty and they want to practice, whether architects, designers, or those who are aspiring to this field?

Rachael: I think my words of wisdom would be to look in the thin places and the thick places in between. Again, I just keep going back to that — in between the inhale and the exhale, in between the curve and the line, in between the bright and the dark. Because that is the place where we will see the beauty. That is the place where we can create it. That's the place where stillness exists, and we can actually feel the beauty. Because ultimately, I think that's it. Beauty should be — I think I probably already said this. Beauty should be what we can feel, not just what we can see.

Brandon: Wonderful. Rachel, thank you so much. It's been such a delight. Where can we direct our viewers and listeners to your work?

Rachael: Best place is Instagram. We're @rhgdesign. We also have a website. Same. RHGdesign.com. I really appreciate you inviting me to share my thoughts and views on beauty and have this conversation with you.

Brandon: Yeah, pleasure is all mine. Thank you so much.

Rachael: Thank you.

If you found this post valuable, please share it. Also please consider supporting this project as a paid subscriber to support the costs associated with this work. You'll receive early access to content and exclusive members-only posts.