A decade ago, Aymee Kuhlman founded Light and Dwell, a West Coast-based design firm that brings warmth and thoughtfulness into their projects, which span the United States—and beyond. Read on for a Q&A with Katie Cunningham, the firm’s principal designer.
How did you get started in design?
Design has always been in my orbit. My mom was an artist and designer, so I grew up understanding that beauty and function can (and should) coexist. I studied both design and business, and after graduation I took my first job—and launched a design business before even knowing where my next client would come from. This was pre-Instagram, pre-Pinterest. I just trusted the work and leaned into the relationships. Eventually, I joined forces with my mom to design homes up and down the West Coast. But that scrappy, thoughtful start still shapes how I approach every project.
Describe your work in three words.
Client-focused, grounded, soulful.
You split your time between Oregon and California. How do the design aesthetics of these two destinations differ?
The natural beauty in both places is undeniable, but it shows up differently. Oregon is layered, moody, a bit more introspective—and that often reflects in the materials and palette I use there. California leans warmer, with brighter light and more casual, open-air living. But no matter the location, nature always plays a role. It’s impossible to design well without letting the landscape in.
How does the locale of a project influence the final design?
We design all over the country—and even abroad—so location is everything. It sets the rhythm of the home. We start by listening to the land, then the architecture, and most importantly, the people who will live there. Clients are the real spark for every design. Their stories, how they live, what they love (or hate!)—that becomes the creative anchor. When you pay close attention to that, it’s easy to make something meaningful and one-of-a-kind.
Your mantra is never repeat the same thing twice. How do you actually achieve that?
I try to create spaces that feel truly one-of-one. That kind of originality starts with the people who will live in the home and the place it’s rooted in. The clients are always the jumping-off point—their stories, rhythms, quirks, and needs. And then there’s the location: the light, the landscape, the architecture, even the street it sits on. I try to let the design respond to all of that. When you really listen to both the people and the place, the result is never something you could replicate. That human layer gives design its soul. When you design for real people, it comes naturally.
Where do you draw inspiration from?
Gosh, inspiration is everywhere. Honestly, sometimes there’s too much of it—with all our resources, saves, and Pins, it can be overwhelming. It used to be that I had to go to the bookstore and buy a stack of magazines just to see what other designers were doing. I’d tear out the pages, file them away, and later flip through actual manila folders to find what I was looking for. I still have those folders—and actual stacks of shelter magazines I can’t part with.
I still find inspiration in those classics, but also in what I’d call the “regular way”: movies. The sets! A Nancy Meyers kitchen? Still holds up. A Jane Austen film, or the Megan Follows version of Anne of Green Gables—the wallpaper, the paneling, the layers—you guys, it’s all so good.
A great recipe inspires me too. I’ll pull out a Julia Child classic and be reminded how elegant something simple can be—a roast chicken, a copper pot, a soft linen napkin. Things that have staying power. That kind of timelessness is what I’m always looking for in design.
I love homes that feel like they could have been designed yesterday or 20 years ago—and still look really good. A well-proportioned room. A thoughtful detail. Patina, history, softness. Think of those coastal towns where nothing’s trying too hard, but everything feels gently lived in. Or an old estate where the trim is chipped just right. I’m not interested in “perfect” or polished for the sake of it—I want homes that feel settled, storied, and real.
Favorite room to design?
I always start with the powder room. It’s often the smallest space, but it can set the entire tone of the house. It’s where you can be bold, a little weird, and a little wonderful. A great powder room can inform the rest of the home’s personality.
Dream destination for a project?
We just crossed Mexico off the dream list, and it was everything. The vibrancy, the craftsmanship, the energy of the place—it was a dream. Next stop? A dilapidated stone house in the Tuscan countryside. I’d love to bring fresco paintings back to life, embrace that weathered patina, and design something that whispers to the past while still feeling fresh and layered.
You love to host. Any tips?
So many! First and foremost: don’t start the day of. Prep in advance so you’re not frantically chopping herbs in a cocktail dress. Get yourself completely ready—shoes on, playlist playing—at least 30 minutes before guests arrive so you can breathe and set the tone. Don’t start too early, either. No one wants to sit down to dinner at 5:30 p.m. unless they’re 80. Speaking of playlists, make one! As cheesy as it sounds, a themed playlist makes everything feel a little more magical. Be reasonable with the guest list. Can you actually cook for 30 people? Probably not. A dinner party for 10–12? That’s the sweet spot. Intimate, manageable, and fun. Details matter. Hose down your patio and front porch the morning of—it’s a little trick that instantly elevates everything. Leave the front door ajar so guests can just walk in. It removes the formality and makes people feel at home immediately. Also? Always—always—light a candle in the bathroom. And tuck a toilet plunger out of sight but within reach. It sounds gross, I know, but Katie Lee said it once and I’ve never forgotten it. Every good host thinks through the details—even the weird ones.
What about table setting?
Tablecloths always. Linen napkins. A scattering of small vases with whatever’s in season—or just cuttings from your yard. It doesn’t have to be fancy to be beautiful. Mismatched china, vintage silverware, candlelight—that’s the secret sauce.
Dream dinner party guest?
Anthony Bourdain, no explanation needed. I miss him.