Posted by Courtney Westbrook
on May 31, 2026
Not every object in our home needs to justify itself. Some things simply bring joy. But the objects we keep in our working environments can quietly influence how we think, focus, and move through our day.
For me, an object earns its place when it supports my daily routine or acts as a visual cue. Something that reminds me to begin, continue, or return to the work in front of me.
I have learned that my mind works best when my environment is calm and uncluttered. When there are too many visual signals competing for attention, my focus scatters. A single object out of place can send my brain down a different path entirely. I might notice something unfinished, remember an email I need to send, or suddenly begin searching for something unrelated online.
Objects that sit in my workspace need to do something more than simply look nice. They need to support the work I am trying to do. These are what I think of as functional forms.
The cost of visual noise
What I began to notice over time was not just what helped me focus, but what disrupted it. Visual noise carries a cost. Not always immediately, and not always dramatically, but consistently. A cluttered surface or something slightly out of place can pull attention away in small but repeated ways. Each interruption is minor on its own, but over the course of a day, they accumulate.
The mind does not always distinguish between what is important and what is simply visible. It responds to both. Functional forms reduce that negotiation. They allow attention to stay where it is intended, rather than constantly being redirected.
Objects that support routine
Over time I have developed a small collection of objects that quietly support my daily routine. One of them is a tactile calendar that displays the day, date, and month through rotating rings. It helps ground the day before work begins. It is simple, tactile, and visible without demanding attention. I also keep a short handwritten daily list. Nothing complicated. Just a few tasks that keep the day moving forward towards my goals. I also light a Task Tealight™ to begin my workday, allowing the slow burn of the candle to quietly mark the hours of focused work ahead. There is also a vision board that reminds me of my longer-term direction.
Each of these objects performs a small function. Together they create a structure that helps my mind settle into the work ahead. None of them exist purely for decoration. They exist because they help me focus on my objectives.
When candles became tools
Candles entered my routine during a period when I was working extremely long weeks in film production. Fifty or more hours were spent working on large productions, and after those days I would return home, shower, cook and eat dinner, and then try to switch mental gears to work on my own creative projects. That transition was difficult. My brain was tired, but my personal work still mattered to me.
Lighting a candle became a small moment of self-care within that routine. It allowed the evening to feel calm, but also intentional. Over time I realised that this simple act helped shift me into a state of concentration. The candle marked the beginning of the work. It became a tool.
There was one problem, however. Many of the candles I was burning used strong synthetic fragrances that gave me headaches. Eventually I switched to unscented candles so that I could keep the visual cue without the discomfort. That experience later influenced how I approached scent in my own products.
The flame as an anchor
There is something deeply human about watching fire. Growing up in Australia, I spent time camping in the outback. Sitting around a campfire under a sky full of stars, you can watch the flames for hours. The movement is subtle, unpredictable, and calming.
Candles recreate a small version of that experience. The flame moves just enough to create life in a space, but not enough to pull your attention away from what you are doing. Instead it sits in your peripheral vision, quietly reminding you that time is passing. That gentle flicker becomes a visual anchor.
An anchor does not demand attention. In fact, if it does, it has failed. The purpose of an anchor is to support focus, not interrupt it. For me, a candle performs several roles at once. It can act as a visual cue to begin work, it then becomes a measure of time passing while I concentrate as it provides a small amount of movement in the room that feels calming rather than distracting.
When scent (such as essential oils) is added thoughtfully, it can also become a sensory anchor. This combination of sight, scent, and occasionally the soft sound of a flickering wick creates a multi-sensory environment that supports attention rather than competing with it.
Time as a material
There is also another element at play here: time.
Most objects are static. They exist without changing. A candle is different. It evolves as it is used. The form shifts, the wax softens, the flame moves, and the object slowly disappears. This makes time visible.
Rather than checking a clock or measuring productivity through output, the passing of time can be observed quietly. The candle does not rush you, and it does not demand completion. It simply marks duration.
Designing objects that support attention
When I began designing my own candles, I wanted them to function in this way. Simple forms, balanced shapes, and objects that feel calm in a space rather than visually loud.
This thinking led to the creation of Task Tealights™, designed to support focus throughout the day. Lighting one can mark the beginning of a task or work session. As it burns, it becomes a quiet visual reminder to stay with the work in front of you. Each candle burns for approximately eight hours, roughly the length of a standard workday. The passing of time becomes visible through the melting wax and shifting flame. The candle does not tell you what to do. It simply supports the environment in which focus can happen.
Each Task Tealight™ is also made with carefully selected essential oils. The intention is not to overwhelm the senses, but to provide a subtle scent that supports concentration without creating sensory fatigue.
Rethinking what we keep in view
Decoration has its place. I love decorating a table for a celebration or filling a room with festive details during the holidays. But when it is time to work, my brain functions best when there is less visual competition in my environment. There are also practical considerations. More objects mean more cleaning. And if you share your workspace with a cat, it also means more opportunities for gravity to do its work.
Reducing visual noise in a workspace does not mean removing personality. It simply means allowing the objects that remain to support what you are trying to do. When we reconsider what we keep on display, we often discover that a few well-chosen objects are far more useful than many decorative ones.
A formist question
A Formist might ask a simple question when looking at an object: Does this support how I want to think, or does it compete with it?
The answer is not always immediate, but over time it becomes clearer. Some objects settle into the background and support the day. Others continue to interrupt it. That distinction begins to shape what we keep.
Formism in practice
This is where Formism moves beyond observation and into everyday life. When you begin to notice forms and how they influence your attention, you naturally start shaping your environment differently. You keep the objects that support your routine and remove the ones that interrupt it. Over time, your environment begins to work with you rather than against you. Over time, these small adjustments compound.
Functional forms are simply objects that participate in that process. They are not loud or competing for attention. They help you move through your day with greater clarity, and sometimes, that begins with something as simple as lighting a candle.
