Blurred Lines: How Interior Architecture Connects a Home to the Natural World

By Patrick Ediger

Hot air balloons against the backdrop of Scotts Bluff National Monument at Old West Balloon Fest. Image via Visit Nebraska.

Growing up in Western Nebraska, a place known for its endless horizons and wide-open landscapes, changes how you see space. I spent my childhood watching storms move across the plains, noticing how the changing light transformed the landscape from one hour to the next. Living that close to the land left a lasting impression.

Long before I knew how to design, I learned how to notice.

That skill of observation eventually became my career, although not in a straight line. I studied Theatre Arts with an emphasis in Directing and Production Design at Nebraska Wesleyan University before spending several years designing and painting scenery in summer stock theater. Later, I learned trompe-l’œil and decorative plaster, eventually opening my own decorative finishes studio before founding Patrick Ediger Interior Design in 2013.

Theater taught me that a space begins communicating long before anyone speaks. Light, proportion, materials, and restraint all shape how a room feels before a single piece of furniture is placed. Over time, I realized I was more interested in creating places people would live in for decades than sets that disappeared after closing night.

The living. room of a project in Pacific Palisades. Photo by Meghan Beierle-O'Brien. Interior by Patrick Ediger.

Looking Beyond The Walls

Although my appreciation for the landscape began in Nebraska, I’ve spent the past twenty-two years designing homes throughout Southern California. Living and working here has refined those early instincts into a design philosophy shaped by the way people actually live.

The relationship between indoors and outdoors isn’t seasonal in Southern California. It’s part of everyday life, and that influences nearly every renovation we undertake. We look for opportunities to strengthen a home’s connection to its surroundings through natural light, carefully framed views, thoughtful sightlines, and materials that create continuity between inside and out.

Every property presents its own opportunities. Whether it’s a mountain view, a quiet courtyard, mature trees, or the way sunlight moves across a hillside, our job is to recognize what’s already there and design in a way that strengthens that connection rather than competes with it.

We’ve seen firsthand how profoundly those early decisions influence the way people experience their homes. The best homes don’t compete with their surroundings. They frame them.

The rooftop deck I created at my last home became our favorite room and offered views from Dodger Stadium to Griffith Park. Photo by Meghan Beierle-O'Brien

Climate Creates a Sanctuary

A Midwestern upbringing gave me an appreciation for open landscapes, but Southern California offers something entirely different: the opportunity to enjoy outdoor living nearly every day of the year.

Patios, courtyards, and terraces aren’t simply outdoor amenities. They’re extensions of the home. In a city as active and densely built as Los Angeles, they create breathing room and offer a daily connection to the outdoors.

Treating outdoor spaces as true living areas changes the way we approach residential design from the very beginning. By visually and physically connecting interior spaces with gardens, courtyards, and terraces, , a home becomes more than beautiful. It becomes restorative.

Those connections don’t happen by accident. They’re the result of thoughtful decisions made early in the design process, long before construction begins.

The first level family room of a project in Playa Vista, I designed the home's Interior architecture to take full advantage of the home's beachfront views. Photo by Meghan Beierle-O'Brien

Interior Architecture: The Structural Foundation

Those early decisions are where interior architecture has its greatest impact.

People often think interior design begins with finishes, furniture, or color palettes. In reality, many of the choices that determine how a home feels are made months before those conversations ever begin.

The placement of a window. The alignment of a hallway with a view. The width of an opening between rooms. Whether flooring continues uninterrupted from inside to out. Individually, they’re small decisions. Together, they shape how a family experiences a home every single day.

Interior architecture establishes how natural light moves through a home, how spaces relate to one another, and how people move through them. Those decisions quietly influence comfort, function, and the overall experience of living in the house. They’re also the most difficult—and expensive—to change once construction is underway.

That’s why we believe the best renovations begin long before construction starts.

Bringing an interior designer into the conversation early allows us to see the whole picture before it’s built, guiding the decisions that have the greatest impact on how a home will function, feel, and endure for decades to come.

Looking back, I don’t think growing up in western Nebraska simply taught me to appreciate the landscape. It taught me to pay attention.

Twenty-two years of designing homes throughout Southern California taught me how to apply that way of seeing. Whether we’re designing a Spanish Colonial in Los Angeles or a home in an entirely different landscape, the process remains the same: understand the place, anticipate what’s ahead, and make the important decisions before they become expensive ones.

Until next time,

XO,

PE