solstice

perigee-syzygy

afternoon sun

photos: vt

dot dot dot

how to be more patient, less materialistic, and more willing to volunteer time to help others

"jaw-dropping moments made participants feel like they had more time available and made them more patient, less materialistic, and more willing to volunteer time to help others . . . researchers found that the effects that awe has on decision-making and well-being can be explained by awe's ability to actually change our subjective experience of time by slowing it down. Experiences of awe help to bring us into the present moment which, in turn, adjusts our perception of time, influences our decisions, and makes life feel more satisfying than it would otherwise."     [here]

image: solar eclipse

Design for a Willow Glen Cottage

When a place has good bones, be it a cottage or a palace or a treehouse in the woods, one simply doesn't want to disrupt this fine circumstance.

Staying true to what already works...what is already beautiful...is important to the harmony of the house and those who inhabit it.

A lovely little cottage wants to grow with reason and care. A palace wants an Inigo Jones to create that perfect addition. And a treehouse, done well, feeds the souls of those who must climb the ladder to get there.

Therefore, I believe, one must try to build without rattling the bones.

Long ago, at this cottage, the sweet 20's garage might have housed an early version of Henry Ford's masterwork. Perhaps there was a cart, also, or a wagon, or some such thing--something to bring home baskets of cherries and bushels of plums from the surrounding orchards.

All things considered, the little building cried out for a good solid set of doors that looked like they'd been crafted to keep the cavalry mounts in for the eve. Somehow, in it's soul, the now-vintage space seemed far grander than a garage/fruit drying shed.

It might have held cherries, but I couldn't help thinking that the first inhabitant of the sturdy structure might've been a horse, rather than a horseless carriage. Anyway, it--the structure, not the long-ago-imagined horse--wanted us to make these doors. Bespoke, as it were.

Either way, I find myself hoping the Buffalo Soldiers would have approved wholeheartedly.

Above, the as-yet unpainted doors await final touches.

design: victoria thorne

Hearth for Home

The truly important part of home design is the collaborative effort behind it.

When the project is finished, the goal is to have created something that is useful and beautiful: the design needs to fit, like a glove, those who live there.

If you can create a space in which your clients can live well and happily...a space that holds, with care, the essence of their lives...then you've done your job.

To get a call from someone gifted with a great eye, an open spirit, and the desire to roll up their sleeves and work toward this vision with you...that is, clearly, the best of all possible worlds. This project is that.

When we started the work, I had just returned from France and had seen, in the Louvre, the original foundation of the Great Tower. The rough beauty of the 12th century stones was astonishing. There was a sort of quiet enchantment to the whole business...something that made you just want to be there, a solid peace.

To build a fireplace--the virtual heart of the project--and incorporate a bit of the feeling from this remarkable fortress seemed ideal.

The result sits firmly centered in the back of the yard now, holding down it's own little fort. It is solid and well-used, and has a bit of a sense of humor in it's stout and stalwart appearance. (When riffing--in California and elsewhere--on an ancient french chateau, a grain of Cleeseian Salt seems advisable.) The fireplace became the inspiration for much of the building and masonry that followed. Grand in it's own happy way, it brings a quiet bit of peace to the family on many a weekend, and work night.