Today we’d like to introduce you to Basak Atac.
Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
My passion for interior design began at a very young age. A close friend’s mother, who I spent a lot of time with growing up, was a talented interior designer. Her beautifully curated home was filled with antique furniture and meaningful decor—each piece with its own story. I remember being endlessly curious, always asking her questions about where something came from or what it meant. From Southern French-style dressers to flowy hemp drapes, every detail fascinated me. She noticed my eye for design and would include me in conversations about materials, finishes, and design elements wherever we went. Looking back, I realize she was the one who planted the seed for the career path I chose.
I was one of those people who discovered their passion early. After earning my degree in Interior Architecture and Environmental Design in my hometown in Turkey, I knew I wanted to one day run my own interior design studio. At that age, everything feels possible—though the path is rarely as straightforward as you expect. The road has been filled with uncertainties and surprises, but I’ve learned to embrace the challenges, adapt, and grow. I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Nurturing creativity and learning how to run a business require very different skills. One needs inspiration, freedom, and surrendering to flow, while the other needs organization, structure, and strategy.
After moving to the U.S., I found myself navigating a new life—and in the process, my love for vintage furniture became a source of income. My partner at the time and I noticed an overlooked niche in the San Diego market. During the stillness of the pandemic, we began sourcing thoughtful, character-rich pieces that didn’t feel mass-produced and delivering them to homes in the San Diego and Los Angeles areas.
It started unexpectedly—with a 1970s hand-carved wooden makeup vanity set we discovered at an estate sale. We didn’t have the space for it, but we were so drawn to it that we bought it anyway, thinking we’d pass it along to a friend. By the time we got home—car packed to the brim—the idea for a business had already formed. We began curating and selling one-of-a-kind vintage pieces across California.
Along the way, we came across some incredible finds: a Corbusier LC3, a Milo Baughman swivel coffee table, Italian travertine tables, a USM Haller credenza, an African Senufo coffee table, and many more. When my partner eventually moved out of the city, I took a leap and launched my own design studio—and that’s how Heart & Stone came to life.
It was an unknown of what it would become, but I trusted the process. One project led to another, and now, three years later, I’m still growing with it—shaping the studio as much as it’s shaping me.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
I can’t say the road has been smooth—and I’m still learning how to navigate the bumps as they come. This journey has required a constant willingness to adapt, grow, and stay grounded in both the creative and practical aspects of the work.
One of the earliest challenges was the scarcity of dialing into a field I wasn’t very familiar with. Everything I learned in school was theory, and this work is perfected through practice. I still learn from every project, every client, and every colleague. I’m lucky to work with an incredible team of builders whose expertise and dedication I truly value. Designing for others—each with their own aesthetic, lifestyle, and needs—requires flexibility. It challenges you to let go of the identification you have with your designs and instead, find balance.
No two projects are alike. Each one unfolds at its own pace and brings a unique set of requirements and unexpected obstacles. A great example was a French creperie I designed on Garnet Avenue two years ago. It was my first commercial project of that scale, and nearly every aspect—building codes, permitting, layout constraints, materials—presented a steep learning curve. The project took a full year from concept to completion. But what I gained from that experience—both technically and creatively—was invaluable.
In the end, the space became something truly special. The client’s vision was deeply rooted in authenticity: crepes prepared by a French chef, macarons sourced from Paris, coffee brewed in the Italian tradition, and gelato imported from Italy. It was essential that the atmosphere delivered on that experience. We curated a selection of vintage European pieces—French countryside paintings, medieval tapestries, antique lighting—to bring warmth, charm, and storytelling into the space. What emerged is a romantic café full of soul and texture. Seeing it come to life was one of those moments that reminds you why you do what you do.
Running your own business also means facing the uncertainty of what comes next. Projects don’t always flow steadily, and the pressure to keep building momentum is real. But I’ve learned that consistency, trust, and belief in what you offer are everything. When you operate from a place of authenticity and stay open to evolving beyond your original expectations, people recognize that. If you have confidence in what you offer, others will feel that—and trust naturally follows.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
Heart & Stone is continuously evolving, finding its voice through each project. While the studio remains open to a variety of work, it has increasingly focused on residential design—particularly home renovations and accessory dwelling units (ADUs). In the San Diego region, especially in coastal neighborhoods, many homes are aging and have outdated or deteriorating interiors. Whether you’re a tenant or a homeowner, chances are you’ve come across a rotting kitchen cabinet or a leaking bathtub. Beyond being aesthetically unappealing, these units are often not safe to live in.
Coastal environments introduce unique challenges, particularly from marine air and salt corrosion. Over time, salt in the air can degrade metal fixtures, plumbing systems, electrical wiring, and even concrete. Mold also thrives in these environments, often growing in unseen areas and impacting indoor air quality and occupant health. These risks are driving a growing number of homeowners to invest in renovations—not only to improve safety and livability but also to restore character and increase property value.
My approach to renovation is deeply rooted in honoring the original spirit of a home. I believe in preserving the architectural essence and allowing the building’s history to guide the design. Every detail is intentional. I don’t replicate designs—even my own—because each space is its own story.
When I begin a new project, I always try to visit the site early. Driving by or stepping inside the building allows me to absorb its context, envision its potential, and begin forming a creative direction. My process starts the moment I enter a space—drawing inspiration from its layout, light, surroundings, and the life that’s been lived there.
What sets me apart is that I’m equally committed to the creative and the technical sides of the process. Renovation is complex—it requires design, coordination, and construction working together seamlessly. I take pride in being part of every stage. I walk closely with my clients through that journey, and when the work is complete, the result is more than just a finished space—it’s a transformation that was worth every effort and investment.
If we knew you growing up, how would we have described you?
I’m the youngest sibling with two older brothers, so naturally, I spent a lot of time outdoors, getting my hands dirty and playing in the streets. I had the privilege of growing up without constant access to technology, which meant we had to rely on creativity and imagination to fill our days. That period of unplugged play really shaped me—it connected me deeply with nature and taught me to respect it. Those early experiences laid the foundation for my belief in sustainable living and staying in harmony with the natural rhythms of Mother Earth, which I still carry with me today.
Art was always my favorite subject in school. I was drawn to any creative expression I could get my hands on—drawing, painting, sculpture, and traditional marbling techniques. These early explorations not only sharpened my crafting skills but also nurtured my deep appreciation for beauty, form, and expression. I was instinctively drawn to creating with my hands. Over time, they evolved into the foundation of my design practice.
Travel also played a significant role in my upbringing. My family prioritized exploring different cultures, and from a young age, I was exposed to diverse architectural styles, materials, and ways of living. Wandering through European cities, I found myself captivated by the rich textures of old facades, the interplay of color and light, and the dynamic rhythm of everyday life. That exposure not only deepened my visual sensitivity but also instilled in me a deep respect for cultural heritage and storytelling through space.
Even now, my greatest sources of inspiration come from the same places: art museums, vintage markets, local craftspeople, historical landmarks, and observing the lived-in beauty of the world around me. I’ve always seen myself as a quiet observer—someone who listens, watches, and draws meaning from subtle details—and that perspective continues to shape how I design today.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://heartandstone.us/
- Instagram: https://instagram.com/heartandstone.us/
Image Credits
Image 1: Spencer Klanke
