Week one
A little about me
I thought everyone grew up in a home like I did. My mother was a painter and sculptor. My father had a hobby of making ceramics and built-in furniture. My sister did weaving and mandalas, and my brother made ceramic bowls. I contributed paintings, ceramics, and built-in furniture. Our house was filled with the things we made or the things friends of the family had made. Wasn’t everybody's? Our home buzzed and resonated, and we all took it for granted.
When I became a designer, I had already been immersed in arts and crafts. I had a degree in Fine Arts and had completed an apprenticeship in carpentry and joinery. I worked as a carpenter in historical restoration in Sussex, England, and for an interior designer on a custom Malibu home, designing custom furniture and fixtures. Once I started my own design business, I began to see a paradox. My clients wanted my help, but they didn't honestly know what they wanted, and they were in design kindergarten. Over the years, I discovered I was not foremost a designer, I was a listener, a teacher, a mentor, a collaborator, and a co-creator. The more I let go of being a designer, the more I had to offer.
Initially, I had to be a disruptor. My client had expectations that I had to challenge. Why have something if it doesn’t nourish you? Why furnish your home with trends? Why copy your best friend or what some social media influencer promises will bring you contentment? Why support mass production in Asia? Don’t be a clone, a copycat. Don’t worry about what others may think. Why not find something that resonates, tells a story, generates a quality memory, and supports a craftsperson? Live with belongings that nourish every day. If they don’t nourish, then ask yourself why they are in your life.
The fantastic thing is that people fundamentally get it. Most of my clients are adept at identifying their favorite foods, the music that excites them, or their top ten movies, but ask them about their favorite design vernacular and they freeze. They know what they don’t know, that there isn’t a map but a journey. My role as a guide is to embark on a journey of exploration, widening the collective mind to new perceptions and meaningful possibilities.
Week 2
Opening Glimpse
Nourishing Home: The Personal Language of Our Spaces is a departure from a traditional how-to design guide. It's a collection of conversational essays that function as a philosophical and practical guide to creating a home that is deeply personal, meaningful, and nourishing.
Foundational Philosophy
The book begins with my personal story—a childhood immersed in arts and crafts—which sets the stage for a design philosophy rooted in creativity, intention, and a rejection of conformity. I challenge the reader to question trends and the mass-produced, arguing instead for a home filled with objects that resonate, tell a story, and support the artist-craftsperson. I position myself not as a designer who dictates style but as a guide, mentor, and collaborator, helping clients embark on a journey of self-discovery. I want to inspire the reader to fashion their own design vernacular, uncovering and bringing to life hidden and inherent patterns rather than imposing a style.
Core Principles
Embracing Imperfection and Impermanence: Drawing from Japanese aesthetics like wabi-sabi and Kintsugi, I celebrate the beauty of wear, age, and a handcrafted "signature," which contrasts with the sterile, unattainable perfection often promoted by modern media. I search for ways to support local artisans and craftspeople, drawing inspiration from crafts from around the world. In particular, the British Pre-Raphaelites consciously opposed the mass production of the Industrial Revolution, which eroded the dignity of the craftsperson.
The Value of Time: I advocate for "lingering" and being present in the design process. This means prioritizing the emerging vision and trusting that thoughtful, unhurried decisions lead to more satisfying and meaningful outcomes.
Week 3
Practical Application
While not a strict how-to guide, the book provides concrete examples and actionable advice that illustrate my philosophy:
The Kitchen Deep Dive: I use the kitchen as a case study, walking the reader through intentional choices for cabinets, countertops, lighting, and hardware. Each section, titled with "Tales, Tips, and Tidbits," blends practical advice with inspiring anecdotes, such as finding salvaged wood or commissioning a custom tile backsplash.
Connecting with Objects: I encourage readers to become "the expert inside" by listening to what their belongings—from a collection of tea bowls to a beloved quilt—have to say. I provide exercises like the "Haiku Challenge" and the "Evolving Canvas" to help readers uncover their own personal vision.
Sourcing and Community: I make a strong case for supporting local craftspeople and avoiding big-box stores, arguing that buying locally nourishes both your home and your community. The "Etruscan" hardware story is a perfect example of how deep knowledge leads to unique discoveries.
In essence, this book is about moving beyond decorating to a form of living art, where every choice, from the wall finish to a single flower arrangement, contributes to a home that is an authentic and ever-evolving reflection of the life lived within it.
Week 4
Naming the Book
I had two title choices for this book: “Nourishing Home” and “A Language of Patterns”.
Nourishing Home implies something of the heart, relatable, empathetic, benefit-driven, and an approach that reciprocates. Some readers may prefer the notion of a Nourishing Home, emphasizing the well-being benefits of a home that is restorative and supports their lives.
A Language of Patterns implies a more philosophical perspective that provides a framework for personal connection and meaning, suggesting a journey of discovery and learning. Some readers may find value in a Language of Patterns, seeking a deeper dive into the benefits of living with intention.
Both title options emphasize the significance of meaning that moves beyond superficial trends. Both speak to a desire for a home that truly matters.
Eventually, I chose "Nourishing Home / The Personal Language of Our Spaces" because it conveys the heart of the book, and it sets a clear expectation of warmth, comfort, and personal connection.