Interview with Cansu Türkdoğan Şimşek

Becoming a designer wasn’t a conscious decision—it was something that had always been within me. Since childhood, I’ve been drawn to details, always wanting to create with my hands.
Growing up in a family that valued art, especially having a father who was passionate about it, nurtured this instinct. Over time, my hands became familiar with materials, and my eyes trained to see form.
Studying Gemology and Jewelry Design allowed me to turn that inner calling into a profession. But the real transformation happened in the workshop—working directly with fire, metal, and stone.
So in truth, becoming a designer wasn’t something I chose; it was something that chose me. And I simply answered the call.

For me, emotion is always the first priority. What is the piece trying to say? What does it make you feel? That’s where I begin.
Secondly, I focus on ergonomics. If it’s jewelry, it must fit the body perfectly. If it’s a home accessory, it must harmonize with its space.
Thirdly, craftsmanship—respect for detail. A single solder point, the balance of a form, the placement of a stone… These small elements can make or break a design.
I usually begin with hand sketches. Digital tools come into play later in the process, but everything starts with my hands.
When approaching a new project, I begin by collecting thoughts and observations—things I’ve seen, felt, or noted. Then I let the material lead me—sometimes through wax, sometimes through metal, sometimes through stone.
My style is based on simplicity with character. I love quiet but powerful forms—pieces that speak without shouting.

Design, for me, is a burst of energy. It’s a flow that starts from within and pushes outward. There are moments of quiet excitement when I see an idea taking shape, and moments of intense focus when everything around me disappears.
The most exciting part is the initial idea—it comes with a rush of possibility. The process itself is a journey, but the real joy comes when the piece is completed. It’s like seeing a thought made real, tangible.
I love the thrill of creating something that wasn’t there before, and the satisfaction that comes from seeing it finished. The whole experience brings me joy, and that feeling is what I chase every time.

The environment I grew up in has been one of the most significant factors in shaping me as a designer. Growing up in a family deeply connected to art exposed me to aesthetics from an early age. My admiration for my father’s art and the time spent with him allowed me to accept art as a way of life.
My education also played a crucial role. Studying at Dokuz Eylül University gave me a solid technical foundation. However, for me, design is not just a technical process; it’s an emotional journey.
Non-design skills also significantly impact my work. My ability to observe, think creatively, and my curiosity about different cultures have been instrumental in defining my design philosophy. These skills, along with the inspiration I’ve gained from the people around me, have shaped my design world.

In the future, I want to make my brand more visible internationally. I aim to create new sales points for Cansui in the U.S. and Europe.
At the moment, I’m working on several new collections. One of them is inspired by the elements of water, aiming to carry the simplicity and strength of nature.
My dream design project is an exhibition... I envision a showcase that presents all of Cansui’s collections as both an aesthetic and emotional experience. In this exhibition, the pieces won’t just be objects—they’ll represent a moment, a feeling.
I’m looking forward to bringing these large projects to life in the near future.

Persistence is key. Whatever you do, always find ways to do it better. It’s about constantly seeking improvement and growth. I started designing driven by an inner urge, and that urge kept pushing me to embrace innovation.
My advice to young designers is to learn from every technique, but never lose their own voice. Once they find their unique style, that’s when the truly distinctive designs will emerge.
A mentor, a teacher, or collaboration can be important—but the most valuable thing is to listen to your inner voice. It’s that feeling, the one that makes you who you are, that should guide you.

The most important thing for success is to always try to find your own path. Focus on what you want to create, not what others are doing.
One of the key things for designers, artists, and architects is originality. Your designs should carry a piece of you.
A major challenge in the design process is the fear of repetition. But I believe that every new project is a discovery, and you learn something new every time. The road to success is paved with courage and the willingness to experiment.
Also, always continue to educate yourself. It's not only about technical skills but also about expanding your perspective on the world.

My day typically starts early in the morning. I plan the first tasks in my workshop, identifying key areas that need focus for the production process.
By midday, I work on my designs while also coordinating with my team. I maintain a balance between design, production, and client relations throughout the day.
In the afternoon, I hold meetings with clients and partners to track the progress of ongoing projects. I also spend time gathering inspiration and conducting research for new projects.
In the evening, I review the day’s work and finalize plans for the next day. While work is important, I always make time for my family, as it helps me recharge and bring fresh ideas to my work.

I make sure to keep an eye on the latest trends in the industry, but I also prioritize staying true to my own style. While I recognize the importance of trends, I always strive to integrate them into my work in a way that complements my unique design philosophy. It’s about balancing innovation with authenticity, ensuring that my designs are both modern and timeless.

Good design is something that not only looks visually appealing but also evokes a feeling. The first thing I assess when evaluating a design is the emotion it creates. A good design isn’t just about aesthetics; it also has to be comfortable and functional, with careful attention to ergonomics and presentation.
While visual appeal is important, usability and the user experience are just as critical. Good design creates a sense of completeness, and it’s something that you enjoy interacting with every day.
It’s much deeper than just surface beauty; it’s about the lasting impression it leaves on the person who experiences it.

I know a design is ready when I look at it and feel that everything has fallen into place. If every detail feels right and the piece resonates with me, I know it’s time to move forward.
I believe that design can always be improved. However, there comes a point when I can say, “I can’t make this any better,” and that’s when I consider the design complete. After that, I focus on new projects.
Some designs can be revisited over time—certain pieces or collections might be re-evaluated or refined. But when a design feels finished to me, I’ve made peace with it.
The success of a design is often felt when it’s used or displayed. If the piece truly connects with the person who wears it or interacts with it, then I consider it successful.

My biggest design work is the “Bird’s Eye” collection. This series was inspired by architectural structures, particularly historical buildings, observed from above. I took reference from structures like Notre Dame and Hagia Sophia, translating their symmetry and geometry into wearable forms.
The reason I designed this collection was to capture not only the buildings themselves but the emotions, history, and culture embedded in them.
Initially, I thought I would focus more on the architectural aspects and aesthetics. But throughout the process, I realized that each piece needed to tell its own story.
This collection is special to me because it’s not just a jewelry collection, but also a bridge between the past and the present. Each piece draws inspiration from historical structures but is presented in a modern language.
The process was challenging, but when the pieces finally came together and began to evoke the intended emotions, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Currently, one of my most exciting projects is a new collection inspired by the elements of water.

The designers I draw the most inspiration from are Mimar Sinan and Leonardo da Vinci. Mimar Sinan’s works showcase both elegance and engineering genius, demonstrating that he was not just an architect, but also an artist. Leonardo da Vinci’s ability to merge art and science, and his deep approach to design, has always fascinated me.
Their design philosophies remind me of the importance of blending aesthetics with functionality. These two figures inspire me because they were able to turn their creative thoughts into timeless works, guided by the light of science.

Where I live, in Bodrum, deeply influences my work. The natural beauty, cultural heritage, and the calm lifestyle here inspire my designs. Bodrum is one of my favorite cities, and it’s where I feel most connected.
My culture plays a significant role in my designs; the Mediterranean nature, its sunlight, sea, and light reflect the essence of my work.
Music plays a key role in my creative process. I often work with calm music in the background as it helps me focus and relax.
The culture I grew up in has a profound impact on my projects. I believe good design is crucial for societal progress because the right design can improve people’s quality of life. Personally, design has brought small but positive changes to my life. For example, I’ve developed the habit of re-evaluating everything around me from an aesthetic and functional perspective.

My work culture is a blend of creativity and discipline. I approach each project with a tailored perspective because every piece has its own story. For me, work is a continuous search—every day presents an opportunity to create something better. While I prefer working independently, I can also be highly productive with my team.
When choosing business partners, trust, passion, and professionalism are key factors. In our collaborations, mutual respect and attention to detail are paramount.
My responsibilities include managing the design process from start to finish, overseeing production and quality control, organizing workshop training sessions, and shaping the brand strategy.
To be a good designer, artist, or architect, one needs to be creative, develop a strong visual language, and have patience. It's also important to embrace innovative thinking and always strive to take a step toward improvement.

As a designer, I believe in giving back to the community that nurtured me. Through my workshop, I focus on supporting young designers and artists by offering training that provides both technical knowledge and guidance on how to navigate the creative process.
I’m open to pro bono design work, as contributing to social projects holds a lot of meaning for me.
I believe that artists and designers have a unique responsibility to engage in humanitarian projects. Design is not just a profession; it’s a tool for societal transformation and improvement.
To support young designers, I participate in design events and conferences, and I also provide opportunities within my own design ecosystem. It’s important to encourage and collaborate with more designers and artists, contributing to cultural and social initiatives.

Participating in the A' Design Award was a significant milestone in my career. Competitions like this help designers enhance not only their creative skills but also their business acumen and professionalism.
The award process provided me with three key benefits:

Global Recognition: Winning a design award allowed my brand to become more visible internationally.

Networking: It gave me the opportunity to meet other designers and professionals in the field, opening doors to collaborations and new projects.

Feedback and Growth: Competitions provide valuable feedback, not just in terms of design quality but also for personal development.
I believe design competitions are essential because they encourage designers to be more creative and innovative. They are crucial tools in shaping the future of the industry. Becoming "Designer of the Day" brings significant benefits to a designer’s career—this recognition not only boosts visibility but also provides new opportunities and motivates the designer to push further.

Repetitive tasks and routines have always drained me; I have a nature that constantly seeks renewal. Design is the space where I can break that cycle and rediscover myself each time. Every new design is like a new birth for me. In that process, I'm not just creating a form; I’m refreshing my soul and renewing my energy. Being a designer is more of a way of being for me than a profession.

I feel truly lucky in this regard. Growing up with the inspiring presence of an artist father and in a family full of love and support helped me find my own path. I was raised in a home that valued emotions and art. My family always respected my choices and gave me the freedom to explore. With that support, I embraced design not as a career, but as my life’s path.

I design jewelry—but it's not just about creating an accessory. It's about making a feeling, a mood, or a stance visible. My pieces accompany the people who wear them in both everyday life and special moments. That’s why the energy, courage, and charisma each piece carries are vital for me. I always aim to create something that hasn’t been done before, with an authentic expression. While doing this, I strive to weave the Mediterranean spirit—its warmth, naturalness, and timeless elegance—into every piece.

The word “legend” sounds quite big—because I still feel like I’m on the journey. Design is more about the process than the outcome. It’s a path that’s both challenging and incredibly rewarding. I advise young designers not to limit themselves to just the design phase. Get involved in every part of the process—from production to sales. Without touching the material and understanding the rhythm of making, designs can feel incomplete. A designer who knows how a piece is made, presented, and received gains much deeper vision.

A good designer stands out with their technical skill; they solve functionality and ergonomics flawlessly and create distinctive work. But a great designer goes beyond that—they touch emotions. They create pieces that are not only seen but also felt with the heart. Their work stirs the soul, leaves a mark, sometimes whispers a story. Technical proficiency is the foundation, but what creates lasting impact is the emotion embedded in the piece.

A good design gains depth not only through form but also through the thought behind it. The better the design process is planned, the stronger the resulting impact. But that’s not enough; high-quality materials, careful craftsmanship, attention to detail, packaging, and presentation are just as important as the design itself. All these stages form a whole. A good design proves itself not only by how it looks but also by the impression it leaves and how it's completed.

Good design makes you feel a sense of luxury in every detail—but not just material luxury; it’s an emotional, aesthetic, and personal privilege. It carries a depth that not everyone can access, and even if they do, not everyone can feel. When you truly see a design, you form a special bond with it. That design becomes a part of you. Over time, it stops being just an accessory and becomes a vessel for a memory, a feeling, or a part of your identity.

I already dedicate most of my time to designing for the women of Cansui, and that’s what brings me joy. These women inspire me with their courage and individuality. I don’t dream of designing for someone else—I’m already doing exactly what I want to do.

I’ve always dreamed of creating a men’s collection. I’ve started it more than once but could never find the time to complete it properly. Now I want to dedicate the attention and focus it deserves. It’s a project that I believe will bring a new language and depth to my design world.

Constantly feeding my mind. Observing. Internalizing. These happen naturally as I move through daily life. But the most valuable thing is being able to remain calm and focused when it's time to pour all that I’ve gathered into my work. A good playlist without lyrics, a cup of coffee, and the right materials—those are all I need to turn what’s in my mind into something tangible.

What inspires me most aren’t individuals, but moments and places. The layered history of Bodrum, its deep connection with nature, and its timeless spirit have always guided me. My artist father, who used to draw postcards for me as a child, was probably my first true inspiration. While I admire the work of many talented designers, I prefer to listen to my inner voice rather than create in someone else’s shadow.

I’m especially drawn to designs that express a lot with very little—minimal yet emotionally powerful pieces. There’s a quiet strength in simplicity, and I find depth in those designs that evoke a feeling beyond their form. I don’t focus on names; I focus on how a design makes me feel.

The “Bird’s Eye” series is very special to me. Taking large, intricate architectural landmarks and transforming them into wearable jewelry, while preserving their essence through a minimal language, was a deeply rewarding process. Each piece in the series carries layers of history, craft, and symbolism. It was more than design—it was storytelling in metal.

I learned every technique I could in the field of jewelry. I explored every material that interested me. But I didn’t look to jewelry itself for inspiration—I turned to other arts: architecture, sculpture, painting. I believe that you should learn your craft thoroughly but seek inspiration beyond it. Otherwise, it’s easy to fall into repetition, even unintentionally.

I was actually planning to become a veterinarian when I was a child. I’ve always had a deep love for animals. But over time, art kept drawing me in—it fascinated me, enchanted me, and eventually became the path I couldn’t ignore. The creative pull was too strong to resist.

Design is an internal surge of emotion for me. Sometimes that surge pushes me to create; sometimes, when I sit down to design, I recognize that the emotion is already there waiting. Design is both a call and a discovery—where intuition and effort meet.

This has been a long journey, and I can’t point to just one hand that held mine. But my family and close circle were always by my side. I managed most things alone in the beginning, but over time, new team members joined the path. Each one of them contributed. My photographer friends are also dear to me. And in recent years, whenever I stumbled, my beloved Füsun abla has always been there to lift me up.

Not giving up. Even when I was tired or discouraged, my desire to create always pulled me back in. To me, greatness doesn’t lie in perfection, but in standing back up every time you fall.

So many, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Starting without financial resources makes the journey longer. Living in Bodrum, though deeply inspiring, also meant being far from materials and the heart of the industry. I designed for other companies and wasn’t paid. I joined international fairs and had my models copied. I raised my two children in my workshop. I slowed down by choice—but I never stopped. Every challenge added to my resilience.

As they are. The truest way. Honest, sincere, and original. A presentation is more than a showcase—it’s the visible thread between the designer and the design. Don’t imitate others. Let your own voice be heard.

My long-awaited men's collection is finally on the way. It’s shaped around the theme of Karia, blending ancient roots with a modern expression. I’m also working on a new series inspired by traditional carpet motifs—reinterpretations of our cultural codes in a contemporary aesthetic. Both collections will carry the Cansui spirit: bold, soulful, and deeply intentional.

To leave behind pieces that stand the test of time. Designs that not only speak to the present but also inspire the future. If one day, a piece I’ve created finds meaning in the life of someone I’ve never met, that means I’ve reached my true goal. I want each Cansui design to empower, inspire, and reflect a part of the person wearing it. Ultimately, my dream is for the brand to become a cultural legacy that carries the Mediterranean spirit.

People expect authenticity. Honest, sincere work that speaks to them. Not just a beautiful object, but something that they can emotionally connect with. So I try to create without repeating myself—staying true to my voice while always offering something meaningful. To show strength in simplicity and softness in detail.

Design is not just an aesthetic act—it’s a way of thinking. Good design raises awareness, recalls values, improves life, and brings beauty. I believe even a single piece of jewelry can boost someone’s confidence or create a sense of belonging. Through design, people express themselves, build connections, and share meaning. That’s how we cultivate a more sensitive, thoughtful world.

I’m developing the “Suyun Nefesi” (Breath of Water) series, which I first introduced last year. What excites me most is the idea of using real natural sea sponges from Bodrum’s waters like pieces of amber. Their organic forms and symbolism create something poetic—turning water’s essence into timeless jewelry.

The “Bird’s Eye” series has been one of the most fulfilling. Translating monumental architectural structures into wearable, human-scale forms—while preserving their geometry and story—was incredibly rewarding. I wasn’t just designing; I was reflecting history and memory through jewelry.

I hope to see more authenticity and sincerity in the design world. Less trend-chasing, more courageous self-expression. I also wish sustainability to become more than a buzzword—an approach embraced not just in materials but also in ethics and partnerships. I want to see fewer, more meaningful creations. Pieces that hold emotion, story, and depth.

Technology and AI are becoming more dominant in design, and honestly, that scares me a little. There’s a risk of losing human sensitivity. But if we can incorporate these tools while preserving emotion and meaning, the future could be magical. A world where humans and machines co-create—rooted in feeling, not just logic.

First, the idea settles in my mind. I go through a phase of deep observation and research, quietly collecting inspiration. When I finally sit down with pen and notebook, the ideas often pour out quickly. After sketching, I move to the bench for prototyping. Once the form is resolved, I hand the production over to my team. Each project takes its own time—but none begins before I feel ready inside.

I begin by taking a deep breath by the sea. It clears my mind and reconnects me to myself. Then I take notes—sometimes words, sometimes shapes, sometimes emotions. That quiet moment becomes the first spark of the entire collection.

Design is the moment when everything I’ve quietly gathered inside finally speaks.

Design creates trends. A true designer doesn’t follow—they lead. Trends may come and go, but sincere, deep design endures. I believe design that withstands time will always set its own path.

Technology is a powerful tool when used right. It can expand the limits of what’s possible. I use it for precision, production ease, and exploring new materials. But the heart of design is still rooted in intuition, emotion, and touch. When technology serves the spirit—not replaces it—real magic happens.

I work with Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator to visualize ideas, and I use EzCad for laser cutting. My workshop includes laser machinery that allows me to create unique textures and forms. The balance between digital tools and handcraft is key in my process.

Color reflects the spirit, material gives identity, and atmosphere tells the story. I’m drawn to natural materials and textures—they carry emotion. Everything I use has meaning and resonance. The light, warmth, and honesty of the Mediterranean infuse every element in my work.

I wish they’d ask, “What’s the story behind this?” Every piece has one. More than form, it’s the emotion and intention that matter. When someone sees that, a connection is made—and the design becomes part of their life.

I imagine the person who created it. What were they feeling? What inspired them? I don’t just look at the object—I try to see the human soul behind it.

I believe in collaboration when there is mutual respect, trust, and shared spirit. The best partners are the ones who don’t impose, but create space. The most nourishing collaborations I’ve had came from honest, ego-free exchanges.

My team. Their ability to create space for me—without interrupting my flow—is invaluable. They allow me to stay creative while they manage the rest. That kind of quiet support is one of the greatest gifts.

I’m more inspired by books about life and emotion than about design itself. Philosophy, mythology, poetry, history... They all help shift my perspective. The texts that affect me most aren’t necessarily about design, but about time, memory, and meaning. Because I believe design is shaped not only by technique, but by layers of understanding.

With curiosity, patience, and persistence. I tried every material that intrigued me, learned every technique I could. I studied through trial and repetition. Mastery isn’t just about technical skill—it’s also about intuition, vision, and learning when to simplify. Over time, what I chose not to do taught me as much as what I practiced.

Leonardo da Vinci. His multidisciplinarity, his deep curiosity, his ability to see the connection between art, science, and life—he’s endlessly inspiring. I’d love to understand how he approached the creative process and how he managed to stay so open-minded across fields.

Awards and recognition are meaningful, but they’re not a final destination. They’re stops along the journey—signs that the work resonates. I’ve never pursued fame. I don’t seek to be seen, but to be understood. What the outside sees as success is built on quiet effort, time, and belief.

My favorite color is blue—it clears my mind and lifts me up. My favorite place is by the sea, where I feel most like myself. I love stuffed vine leaves (yaprak sarma), especially for the memories they carry. Autumn is my favorite season, with its introspection and transformation. My favorite “thing” is my family. As for brands, I admire those with heart and craftsmanship. Loewe and Jacquemus are two that inspire me deeply.

It’s not exactly funny, but deeply touching. I once designed an engagement ring for a client who searched obsessively for a gemstone that matched his partner’s eye color. We spent hours comparing tones, just to get it exactly right. It reminded me that sometimes design witnesses love—and helps express it in timeless form.

My day begins with music the moment I step into the studio. That ritual—music in my ears, coffee in hand, notes in front of me—is everything. Music is my fuel. It sharpens my focus, opens my thoughts, and connects me to emotion. Sometimes a single melody sparks an entire collection.

Not at all. I wanted to be a veterinarian. My love for animals was huge. But art slowly pulled me in—it fascinated me, made me curious, and wouldn’t let go. I didn’t know it then, but the spark was already inside me.

I believe one day Cansui jewelry will be found buried in the earth, and those pieces will carry messages from our time. Each design is like a time capsule, whispering to the future about who we were, what we felt, and what we found beautiful.

Cansui is more than a jewelry brand—it’s an expression of emotion, memory, roots, and courage. Each piece reflects a journey, a stance, a feeling. If something I’ve designed touches you, it’s because there’s already a piece of you in it. I create everything with sincerity. And I believe anything made with heart eventually finds its way to the right hands.

Cansui is a design brand that carries the spirit of the Mediterranean—its light, calmness, and character. Our studio is also a place of education and production. I’ve been teaching traditional jewelry-making techniques for years while also developing collections, working with companies, and managing international sales. Everything—design, production, communication—happens within my workshop alongside a dedicated team.

Design, for me, is an internal call. Sometimes it’s triggered by a word, a feeling, a color, or a shadow. It’s the moment when emotion and intuition meet craftsmanship. It’s how I externalize my inner world and give shape to silence. Design is a way of making the invisible visible.

I love designing pieces that leave a mark—emotionally and symbolically. I’m drawn to minimal forms with depth, and pieces that convey something beyond their appearance. I believe jewelry is a personal form of expression, so I always aim to create wearable works with strong emotional resonance.

One of my most special collections is the “Bird’s Eye” series. It reinterprets the geometry and symmetry of historical structures as seen from above—like the Notre Dame or Hagia Sophia—and transforms them into wearable forms. It’s not just about design, but about carrying time, memory, and cultural connection through form.

I created a bracelet collection inspired by Seljuk motifs. It was a meaningful experience—taking elements from our history and reinterpreting them with a contemporary aesthetic helped me find my own design language. That series still holds a special place in my journey.

Lost-wax casting is my absolute favorite technique—it gives me so much freedom in form and expression. But my very first love was the jeweler’s saw, and it still has a meditative effect on me. In production, we also use laser machines for precision, blending traditional techniques with modern tools. My tablet has become an extension of my body—I use it for sketching and research. And above all, I need soft music and solitude to really create.

Early in the morning before the world wakes up, or late at night when everything is quiet. When the city and the people are asleep, my mind becomes crystal clear. Those silent hours are when my creativity flows most freely.

First and foremost, the emotion it gives. What does the piece feel like when you look at it or wear it? Then comes ergonomics. I always test my designs on myself for several days before I put them up for sale. Comfort, balance, and how it lives on the body are key.

Pure excitement. For me, design is a burst of internal joy—a kind of energy that moves me from within. Sometimes even a single idea is enough to flood my entire body with that rush. In those moments, time disappears and I’m entirely in flow.

Every new collection feels like a birth to me. Until the moment of “delivery,” it’s an emotional, exciting, but also exhausting and impatient process. But once that birth takes place—once the piece exists—I get to enjoy it like a mother meeting her child. There’s a deep sense of peace and satisfaction in seeing the story take shape.

It all starts with what it makes you feel. A successful design evokes something in you—it stirs emotion. But it also needs to be well-balanced in function. I pay great attention to ergonomics. It’s not enough for something to be beautiful; it has to live with the person. That’s why I always test each piece on myself before offering it to anyone else.

A bad design, for me, is one that lacks aesthetics or originality—it feels overly familiar or rushed. It may also be made with low-quality materials or poor craftsmanship. A good design, on the other hand, makes you feel something. It’s well thought-out, from the piece itself to its packaging and presentation. You can feel the care and thought that went into it.

I live in a country that has gone through very intense social periods in recent years. Every time something happens, I feel this deep emotional surge, and I express it—through design, through writing. And I believe I must.
Designers should be more than just creators of beautiful objects. We have a responsibility to support, uplift, and reflect the experiences of the society we live in. Sometimes, the jewelry we wear is simply a joy. But other times, it quietly speaks for what we stand for.

Design is becoming more and more intertwined with technology. Tools like AI, 3D modeling, and digital platforms are speeding things up—but that speed can sometimes dull our creative instincts.
I’m not against technology; I just believe we have to preserve human emotion within it. If we can do that, the future holds immense beauty. AI might make some things easier, but intuition and emotion will always be what gives design its soul.

My most recent exhibition was in September, at the Hakan Aykan Art Gallery in Bodrum. It was called “Breath of Water”—a collection inspired by the sea, using natural sponge elements. It was more than a presentation; it was a personal statement.
I’m currently searching for the right space for my next exhibition. September feels like a good month again—it aligns well with Bodrum’s slower pace and my own rhythm.

Inspiration doesn’t arrive like lightning—it builds up quietly. It’s about observing, listening, and collecting. Bodrum’s nature, light, and layered history are constant sources.
Travel, books, architecture, and even everyday encounters all contribute. I keep notes, sketches, words… sometimes one color or sentence sparks an entire collection.
The key is to stay mentally open and emotionally alive. That’s where my creativity begins.

In my early years, I tried many different styles. People would often say, “I can recognize your designs right away,” which made me happy—but I still didn’t fully know what my style was.
Then I asked myself: “Who am I?”
I was a child born in Istanbul, raised with an urban culture, but also someone who grew up running barefoot on the pebbles of a small coastal town in Bodrum. That duality—city and sea, structure and softness—shaped my design identity.
My style reflects this blend: minimal yet warm, grounded yet expressive.

I live in Bodrum, one of the most beautiful places in Turkey. And yes, both Bodrum and Turkey deeply influence my work. These lands carry layers of history, texture, and emotion.
Living here nourishes my spirit and makes my work more grounded.
But there are challenges too—logistically, it’s harder to access materials or industry connections compared to a major city like Istanbul. Still, I wouldn’t trade the inspiration this place gives me for anything.

We offer end-to-end services—from consulting to design and production. I begin by truly listening to their story, their needs, their goals. Then I ask for trust.
When they allow me and my team to guide the process freely, the results are always stronger. But when the approach is overly cautious or too controlling, it limits the creativity. Trust and space are key to meaningful collaboration.

A good designer must be multidimensional. Even if their personal style is modern, they should be able to understand the brand across from them and create something unique for each client.
They should also have a strong grasp of production processes and be capable of turning a concept into a functional, ergonomic product.
Once you’ve chosen a designer and handed over the project, trust the process. Constant interference only shrinks the creative space. Creativity needs room to breathe.

Everything starts in my mind—quietly and gradually. Once the idea takes root, I go through a phase of deep observation and research. I let it build up inside me.
Then, at the right moment, it all pours out—usually during a quiet time with pen and notebook.
After forming the concept and shape of the piece, I move into the production phase. The form and technical structure come together, and then my team helps complete the rest. It’s a mix of intuition, craft, and system.

I love our round teak table from Uzaq Home. It’s made from dozens of wood pieces and brings a lot of joy and warmth into our space.
A tiny Japanese “prosperity bowl” sits on a shelf—it’s small but emits a lovely energy that lifts me.
I have a ceramic horse drawing by Tevfik Karagözoğlu that means a lot to me emotionally.
From my own “Bird’s Eye” collection, I’ve created both a jewelry piece and a mirror inspired by the Ravenna Basilica—I use them both with pride at home.
And finally, an antique nightstand. Its history, its aged texture… it feels more like a memory than an object.

My alarm rings at 6:45 AM. I wake up my older son and send him off to school. Then I make my coffee and sit quietly on our garden swing. Sometimes I meditate; sometimes I just look at the flowers and sky.
I do a bit of light yoga, maybe plan my day—unless my younger son wakes up early and comes over for a sweet morning cuddle.
After I drop him at preschool, I head to the studio. By then, the team has already opened up. I take my tea to the balcony, watch the view, and prepare for the day.
Once I step inside, time flies—production, meetings, private lessons, visitors… by 4:45 PM, my phone alarm reminds me to pick up my son.
We go to the park or the sea. My older son enjoys the peace of the house alone.
In the evening, we tidy up and prepare the kitchen for my husband, who arrives around 6 PM and starts cooking for the family.
We always sit down for dinner together. Afterward, it’s either movie night or everyone does their own thing. I might paint, watch something, or just enjoy the quiet of the garden.
Then bedtime for the kids—and finally, “parent time.”

Don’t give up. Persistence is everything.
Whatever you do, always ask yourself: “How can I do this better?” And never stop searching. Learn every technique you can, but don’t lose your own voice in the process. Curiosity, effort, and inner rhythm will guide you further than talent alone.

Being a designer means seeing the world with heightened sensitivity. You find inspiration everywhere—details speak to you, and beauty reveals itself in the ordinary. It keeps your spirit alive.
But that same sensitivity can be overwhelming. Your mind never really switches off. Ideas, doubts, sparks—they follow you everywhere.
It can be exhausting. But it’s also the only way I know how to live.

Do what hasn’t been done before—and do it as best as you possibly can.
For me, originality is everything. The question I always ask myself is: “Is this truly mine?”
And once that answer is yes, I do everything I can to bring it to life with quality, emotion, and respect.

To me, one of the most vital skills is listening—to materials, to emotions, to stories, and to your own instincts.
Observation is key. So is technical know-how.
You also need patience—some ideas take time to mature.
And above all, courage: to try, to fail, and to begin again.

Lost-wax casting is my favorite technique—it gives me incredible creative freedom.
I also use traditional jewelry-making techniques and our in-house laser machine for precision cutting.
My tablet is like an extension of my hand—I sketch and research with it constantly.
My library includes many art books, but also titles from unexpected fields that help spark inspiration.
And most importantly: calm music and solitude. Without those, nothing flows.

I’m someone who slows down when I have too much time and speeds up when time is short.
The less time I have, the faster and clearer my solutions become.
But when there’s too much time, I tend to overthink and delay.
So I’ve learned to embrace structure—small deadlines, focused work blocks. That’s when I’m most productive.

There’s no set answer for that. Each design has its own rhythm.
Some ideas live in my head for weeks or even months—gathering, maturing—until suddenly they take form very quickly.
Others begin fast but get stuck in a detail—a curve, a clasp, a stone—and that alone can stretch the process for weeks.
I only consider a design “done” when it gives me that unmistakable feeling: yes, this is it.

I often hear, “How did you think of this?”
And the truth is—I feel more than I think. My process is driven by intuition, not formulas.
Another frequent question is: “Can you design something just for me?”
And honestly, that’s one of the greatest joys—helping someone tell their story through a piece they wear close to their body.

One of the most defining moments for me was preparing my first large-scale collection. It challenged me technically, emotionally, and creatively.
Another key experience was designing a custom collection for a brand. Merging my voice with theirs required both sensitivity and structure.
Both of these taught me so much about who I am and how I work—and they still shape the way I approach every new project.

I’ve worked with a wide range of clients over the years.
Some of Turkey’s most recognized figures have worn Cansui pieces—Ayşe Arman, Gonca Vuslateri, Işın Karaca, Çiçek Dilligil, Sedef Avcı, and Cemil İpekçi among them.
But I also work with brand-new companies that entrust us to help define their visual identity from scratch.
And I collaborate with artists like sculptors and painters, creating miniature wearable versions of their own works—which is incredibly rewarding.

I’m most drawn to meaningful design—pieces that carry emotion, symbolism, or a story.
I love working on minimalist forms that leave space for interpretation but still feel intimate.
Designing something wearable, personal, and timeless excites me deeply—especially when it reflects both the wearer and the culture it comes from.

I’m currently working on expanding Cansui’s presence internationally—especially in the U.S. and Europe.
At the same time, I’m developing new collections. One of them evolves my “Breath of Water” series, using real sea sponges in new ways.
Another is a men’s collection called “Karia,” and I’m also creating a contemporary line based on traditional Anatolian rug motifs.
I’m also preparing new workshops and dreaming of a unique exhibition that combines story, form, and experience in an unconventional space.

The designs are all mine. I create the concept, sketch the form, and set the tone for the piece.
Up until a few years ago, I also managed the full production myself. But as demand grew, I built a team.
Now, I develop the prototypes and oversee the rest of the process with my team, who help bring everything to life.

I’m currently expanding the “Breath of Water” collection. I’m experimenting with natural sponges and treating them almost like amber—creating forms that are raw yet refined.
The “Karia” men’s collection is nearly in production, and I’m excited to finally bring it to light.
I’m also developing a new line inspired by Anatolian rug motifs—turning deeply symbolic patterns into modern jewelry.

The easiest way to connect with me is through Instagram:
@cansuidesign is where I share updates, behind-the-scenes content, and new collections.
You can also visit www.cansui.com or email me directly at cansuidesign@gmail.com.
And if you’re ever in Bodrum, my studio is open by appointment—I’d love to welcome you in person. That’s where you truly feel the soul of Cansui.

For me, design is more than creating objects—it’s about leaving a trace.
Each piece I make carries a bit of my story, a memory, a feeling.
Cansui isn’t just a brand; it’s a reflection of my path, my geography, and my heart.
If you're reading this, perhaps our paths are already crossing—and maybe one day, one of my pieces will accompany your story too.