I wanted to be a decorator. I wanted to interior design homes and

In the gentle confession of a soul longing to create, Ursula Andress, the golden figure of cinema’s dawn, once said: “I wanted to be a decorator. I wanted to interior design homes and do everything myself.” These words, though modest in tone, speak with the quiet power of self-realization. They reveal the ancient yearning that lives in every heart — the desire not only to dwell within the world, but to shape it, to make it beautiful, harmonious, and personal. Beneath this simple wish lies a universal truth: that every human being is born with the impulse to create — to bring order to chaos, to weave meaning into the spaces they inhabit, and to leave behind traces of their spirit made visible.

When Andress speaks of wanting to “do everything myself,” she touches upon a deeper current — the sacred pride of individual creation. To create with one’s own hands is to engage directly with life, to turn imagination into form without intermediaries or compromise. It is the mark of one who seeks wholeness, not merely the admiration of others. For to decorate is not only to place objects within walls — it is to infuse a space with the essence of one’s being. In this way, her words become a meditation on the eternal partnership between the human spirit and its environment: as we shape our surroundings, so too do our surroundings shape us.

In ancient times, this truth was known to the craftsmen of Egypt and the builders of Greece, who believed that beauty was a reflection of divine order. The sculptor Phidias, who carved the glory of the Parthenon, was said to have labored not for fame, but for balance — for the feeling that each column, each carving, each beam could sing in harmony with the heavens. His work was an act of worship — not to gods of marble, but to the god of creation itself. In the same way, Andress’s longing to design and “do everything herself” is the echo of that same creative devotion — the desire to craft not just with skill, but with soul.

The decorator’s art, though often underestimated, is one of deep wisdom. To decorate a home is to understand the language of space — to know how color can soothe a weary heart, how light can awaken joy, how the smallest details can create sanctuary. It is the art of translating emotion into form. Andress, whose public life was filled with glamour and spectacle, speaks here of something far humbler — the simple joy of creating harmony with her own hands. It is as if, beyond the stage lights and applause, she sought the quiet power of intimacy — the power of shaping one’s inner world.

Her words also hold within them the spirit of independence. “I wanted to do everything myself” — this is not the voice of arrogance, but of self-trust. It is the song of one who believes that the soul’s vision must not be diluted by others’ designs. In this, Andress reminds us of the great Renaissance figures like Leonardo da Vinci, who would paint, sculpt, engineer, and even compose, all with his own hand. He, too, believed that to create authentically, one must engage every faculty of the self. For to delegate the making of beauty is to lose part of its truth; to create wholly is to express one’s entire being.

Yet there is also humility in her longing. For creation — true creation — is not a performance, but a dialogue between maker and material. It is an act of listening as much as of doing. The one who decorates, who designs, must first see — must notice the light that enters through the window, the way the floor breathes beneath the feet, the silence that waits to be filled. In this way, Andress’s desire becomes a metaphor for self-awareness: to design one’s surroundings is to design one’s life, to bring order and beauty to the chaos within.

And so, O seeker of balance and beauty, take this lesson to heart: to create is to live twice — once in thought, and once in form. Do not be afraid to build, to paint, to arrange, to dream with your hands. You need not be an artist by trade; every soul is an artist by nature. In your home, your work, your relationships — become the decorator of your destiny. Do everything you can yourself, not out of pride, but out of reverence for the creative spirit that dwells within you. For in shaping your world with intention, you will discover not only beauty, but your own reflection shining quietly within it.

Thus, from the words of Ursula Andress, let this teaching be passed down: the world is your canvas, your home your altar, your life your masterpiece. To design it with love, to shape it with your own hands — that is the work of a creator, the calling of a soul awake to its divine purpose. Create, therefore, not to be seen, but to become whole.