Be fun! I don't like homes or rooms that don't have a sense of

The words of Bryan Batt ring with the warmth of both artist and philosopher: “Be fun! I don't like homes or rooms that don't have a sense of humor or have some sense of whimsy or a personality. Your home should reflect who you are, and what you love. I would never have something in my home because it's the thing to have. I have to love it, and it needs some connection to me.” At first glance, these words seem to speak of design, of style, of the choices we make in our physical spaces. Yet beneath them lies something far deeper — a reflection on the spirit of authenticity, the sanctity of personal truth, and the ancient art of surrounding oneself with beauty that breathes from the soul.

To be fun, as Batt declares, is not mere frivolity. It is a call to bring life, spontaneity, and warmth into the places we dwell. For a home without humor is like a heart without laughter — orderly, perhaps, but lifeless. In his words we hear the echo of an ancient wisdom: that our surroundings shape our spirit, and our spirit in turn shapes the world around us. The philosopher Socrates once said, “An unexamined life is not worth living.” Batt’s reflection might extend that truth — an unexamined home is not worth inhabiting. For the home is the mirror of the self; to fill it with meaning is to fill one’s life with truth.

The sense of whimsy Batt celebrates is not mere decoration — it is joy made visible. Whimsy is the art of surprise, the courage to be delighted, the rebellion against dullness. It is the playful reminder that we are not meant to live only by function, but by wonder. In the ancient world, the homes of poets and sages often contained symbols of this truth — a seashell on a table to recall the sea, a lamp carved in strange forms to honor imagination. To live without whimsy is to forget that the sacred hides in the unexpected, and that beauty often laughs quietly in the corner, waiting for us to notice.

Personality, as Batt describes, is the soul’s signature upon space. A home without personality is like a face without expression. Too often, the world teaches us to seek what is fashionable — to fill our homes, and our lives, with things “because they are the thing to have.” Yet Batt’s wisdom warns against this illusion. The ancients spoke of authenticity as a virtue — to live in accordance with one’s nature. The Stoic Epictetus said, “Know first who you are, and then adorn yourself accordingly.” This adornment was not of jewels or marble, but of meaning — the ornaments of one’s values, memories, and heart. A home should not impress the stranger, but embrace the spirit that dwells within it.

There is a story told of Frank Lloyd Wright, the visionary architect, who designed homes not from blueprints of fashion, but from the essence of their owners. When one client demanded an extravagant feature to impress visitors, Wright refused. “A home,” he said, “should grow out of its surroundings and the lives of its inhabitants.” His philosophy, like Batt’s, teaches that beauty divorced from the self is hollow. True design — true life — must arise from connection, from what one loves, from what carries memory and meaning.

Connection — that is the heart of Batt’s reflection. Every object, every color, every laugh within the home should bear a thread of intimacy, a whisper of story. A painting that stirs a childhood memory, a chair where a grandparent once sat, a trinket from a journey that changed you — these are not possessions; they are extensions of the soul. They remind us that life’s beauty is not purchased, but lived. In this way, the home becomes not a showcase, but a sanctuary — a living testament to the joy, curiosity, and spirit of the one who dwells there.

The lesson, then, is clear: let your surroundings reflect your inner truth. Do not decorate to please others or to follow fashion, but to celebrate who you are. Fill your space with laughter, with humor, with the boldness to be whimsical and the humility to be genuine. Walk through your rooms and ask yourself — does this belong to my spirit, or to someone else’s expectation? Remove what feels empty. Keep what makes you smile. And remember that fun, that radiant energy of the heart, is not a luxury — it is a necessity for the soul.

So, dear listener, heed the wisdom of Bryan Batt. Make your home — and your life — a reflection of love and joy, not imitation and fear. Let your walls tell your story. Let your laughter echo through your halls. And may your dwelling, whether palace or cottage, be alive with whimsy, connection, and personality — a place not merely where you live, but where your spirit dances, unafraid, and utterly free.