So if I want to buy a light in a shop and I don't find a light

“So if I want to buy a light in a shop and I don't find a light that I like, I think to myself what would I like? What would I like to buy? Then I started to imagine and design it for myself a lot of the time.” Thus spoke Marc Newson, the craftsman of form and dream, whose hands have shaped the modern world’s language of beauty and utility. In this humble statement lies a truth both ancient and eternal — that creation begins in dissatisfaction, that invention is born when the spirit refuses to accept what already is, and dares instead to envision what could be. It is not simply about lamps, nor design, nor even art; it is about the sacred courage to replace complaint with creativity, to answer lack with imagination.

When Newson speaks of entering a shop and finding no light that satisfies him, he speaks to the universal moment when the soul encounters limitation. Every seeker, in art or life, eventually comes to that place — where the world’s offerings fall short of the heart’s desire. Yet here lies the divide between the ordinary and the visionary: most turn away in frustration; a few pause, imagine, and create. It is in that quiet turning of thought, from disappointment to design, that genius begins its work. The inventor, the artist, and the thinker all share this sacred impulse — to not merely consume the world, but to reshape it.

The origin of this quote lies in Marc Newson’s approach to design, one grounded not in luxury but in curiosity. Born in Australia and trained as a sculptor, Newson rose to fame for his ability to blend art and function — to make the ordinary sublime. His process has always begun not with market trends or client demands, but with personal necessity. “What would I like?” — this is his mantra, his invocation of self-awareness. In asking this question, he does what the greatest creators have done throughout history: he begins from within. For all true design, whether of objects, systems, or lives, begins when one dares to ask not merely “what exists?” but “what do I desire to exist?”

This is the same spirit that moved Leonardo da Vinci when he, unsatisfied with the tools of his time, drew flying machines and anatomical studies that would inspire centuries. It stirred Frank Lloyd Wright, who designed homes that lived in harmony with nature because the houses of his age felt cold and lifeless. It animated Steve Jobs, who famously sought beauty even in the unseen circuits of his machines, saying, “If you are a carpenter, you don’t use a piece of plywood on the back of a cabinet, even though it faces the wall.” Each of these minds, like Newson, began not with acceptance, but with imagination disciplined by craftsmanship.

But this quote also holds a gentler wisdom — that self-reliance is a creative act. When one finds no answer in the world, the answer may lie in one’s own hands. Too often, people lament what they lack: the perfect object, the right opportunity, the ideal circumstance. Newson teaches us that the remedy for lack is not complaint, but creation. To design one’s own light — whether literal or metaphorical — is to declare faith in one’s ability to illuminate the darkness. It is to take responsibility for the shape of one’s world, to turn longing into labor, and desire into design.

And yet, there is also humility in his words. For imagination is not arrogance — it is participation in the ongoing act of creation. When Newson imagines and designs for himself, he enters into dialogue with the universe: he listens, he envisions, he forms. The great artists of every age have known this: that to create is not to oppose the world, but to join it — to extend its beauty where it falters. Thus, every act of making becomes a prayer of gratitude and a gesture of defiance, saying, “The world is not yet finished, and I shall add to it.”

So let this be the lesson, passed from the hands of Marc Newson to the hearts of all who dream: when what you seek does not exist, create it. When the world’s lights fail to satisfy your spirit, design your own lamp, and let it shine. In every field, from art to love to daily life, dissatisfaction can be the seed of destiny — if only you dare to nurture it with vision and work. Ask not merely what you are offered, but what you truly desire. For the world was shaped not by those who accepted its flaws, but by those who imagined something better and built it.

And thus, when next you stand before a lack — whether a dim lamp, a broken system, or a weary heart — remember this truth: within you lies the power to design anew. Let your imagination not end in thought, but flow into form. For it is the birthright of every soul to be not only a user of the world, but its creator. In this, you join the divine craft itself — shaping, refining, and redeeming creation through the work of your own inspired hands.