Building a Thinking Room

The title first made me think this was an account of how someone constructed a “Chinese room” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_room), a room which as a system performs calculations like a computer, appearing to think. That might have interested me more than this article did.

At work we have grey walls with grey windows with grey blinds with grey carpet with grey ceiling tiles. And the photos on the walls are black-and-white mounted in grey picture frames.

Nobody has ever walked into our office and been offended by the decoration. And nobody has ever done any amazing creative work, either.

From experience: high ceilings, and big space let you have very different thoughts than if you are in a tiny flat.

I've worked in an advertising agencies where the office is designed to look plain, and let the work stand out more. It was also designed to look good with the macs. The lighting is different for different areas, and also floors are designed with the types of clients they service in mind. Different designs for sectors like financials to creatives to airlines. With different journeys through the building depending on who the visitor was. There are white boards built into the walls, meeting rooms, board rooms, pitch rooms, reading areas, relaxing areas, and other special purpose areas including thinking areas.

There are architects who specialise in party dynamics, and provoking all sorts of different emotions. There are people who specialise in shopping centers, public areas, and sporting areas. Each type of place has it's own needs and requirements.

However, none of this is new - it's been happening since people have made and designed buildings.

I take a bus to the library and spend some time there, interspersed with many breaks which involve walking to a nearby tea house. Taking a bus outsources the attention-drain of driving while still being conducive to the trance-like free-floating state of mind in which one can feed the thoughts to the unknown and allow the ideas to come to you.

Most of the times that I have sat down at the same desk for 2 hours, I have regretted it. It's sub-optimal unless you are literally just typing in what is already known.

My thinking room is my car. If I need some time to think, I'll drive somewhere an hour or so away. On the open road watching the horizon and sky the whole way is good as sitting outside, while driving avoids the temptation to hop on a computer or watch TV or do anything else distracting.

Sounds like I should paint one wall of my office blue, for when I'm doing creative tasks, and one wall of my office red, for when I'm doing detail oriented work. I wonder what would happen if I painted a third wall blue with orange and lavender spots?

> Why? According to the scientists, the color blue automatically triggers associations with openness and sky, while red makes us think of danger and stop signs. (Such associations are culturally mediated, of course; Chinese, for instance, tend to associate red with prosperity and good luck.)

Let's understand that, while the article discusses scientific studies, the above explanations are merely guesses. I would suggest something different: red stands out so much to the human visual system because it is the color of two very important things that did not originate as culturally mediated associations: (1) blood, and (2) many kinds of ripe fruit. I leave it to the reader to speculate how this might translate into accuracy and attention to detail.

I find it disappointing that there wasn't a single mention of a leather wing-backed chair, or "sitting cushions", or incense.

Also, interesting that the author thinks architecture has always been about aesthetics, not psychology. Do you think the Greek & Roman temples were only about aesthetics? I think their largesse was definitely designed to take your mind somewhere else; to make you think of the heavens; to expand your mind. Same for the great cathedrals of europe.

My thinking room is my neighborhood, where I can take a walk while listening to bird calls (and occasionally coyote howls) or at least the scrunching of snow under my feet.