JEAN COCTEAU IS HOT, MY FIREPLACE IS NOT

My desk faces this wall, so I spend a lot of time staring at the abomination that is our fireplace.

Ok, maybe it's not that bad. But if your job is designing interiors maybe it is. When we bought our house, I knew it would be a problem... who built this travesty? Did they just throw a dart at the wall and decide gosh golly it would be the perfect height for a fireplace? Somewhere in no man's land, a brick ledge is gathering dust and lizard tails. Plus it used to be a putrid shade of rusty brick topped by a mantel just this side of nuclear orange oak. Let no one say improvements have not been made, but still... over it.

Did you notice the vents that I carefully, obnoxiously disguised with plants? I hope not. 

In the immortal words of Ice Cube, I want to tear this mother up (that is not exactly what he said) but the firebox... Removing it would, frankly, suck. So I have considered removing some bricks or possibly adding them instead. This is doable, right?

Because the megalomanic in me is ready to build the tower of babel part deux.

Or I could mayhaps go a bit more subtle. Because I am a very subtle person.

Who am I kidding? At the rate of current renovation around here (please see our master bath, sporting a lovely shade somewhere between pea and bile green), construction is years away.

In the meantime, wouldn't it be awesome if this happened?

Jean Cocteau's home decorated by Madeleine Castaing has been on my radar for years... it's so inspiring. Don't like your architecture? Draw it in!

Speaking of Cocteau, I am obsessed. Did you see my scarf?

Do you like my picture? Was I a) being arty for instagram or b) disguising pajamas and unbrushed hair? I don't want to ruin the image of my perfect life for you, so let's go with a.

Hey, did you know that Roche Bobois has a super line of embroidered Cocteau pillows?

And I'm watching this Cocteau lith on ebay:

And I'm even following this tattoo guy David Scheisser on instagram because his work reminds me of Cocteau. Obviously line drawing is the next Twombly/Kelly Wearstler Channels/abstraction craze. Turns out David likes to draw on walls too.

I feel like we've come full circle here. I should just draw on my walls. Or you know, have someone else do it.

What do we think? Crazy awesome, or crazy going to scar my children for life?

It could be cool. Think about it.

EXISTENTIAL CRISIS

There will be a lot of words in this post, so if you're just in it for the pretty pictures here are crowd pleasing samples from two recently completed projects:

I hope that helped your peepers. If you'd like to talk, read on. If you need more pictures, please mosey over to my portfolio.

As always I struggle with how to begin a post following such a lapse in communication. After eight years of blogging I'd say we are estranged old friends who aren't quite sure if things will be the same when we meet again. Gone are the days when I posted 700 pictures of my house in progress alongside a histrionic running commentary. I don't really have time for personal projects anymore, and I don't think my clients would appreciate me posting pictures of their homes, pleading "HELP!!!! Do I like Farrow and Ball Pointing or New White for the living room wall color?!?!" And besides, I already know the answer is Pointing (it almost always is) because by now I kind of actually know what I'm doing. Where is the fun in that?

To be honest, and I'd like to think I have operated honestly in this space over the years -- that I have come as close to being the real me as possible, that if you were to meet me you'd see that I really do talk like this (insert east Texas accent)  -- I'm not sure how to write about my life in design anymore. But let me back up a little.

2015 was pretty badass. I can't lie, it felt good to win the Wayfair tastemaker award, to get published in Architectural Digest and Elle Decor and Domino (thanks, Loloi!), to feather my cap with Houzz accolades. I can say that I have worked really hard for years, that I have paid my dues, that I have studied and tried my darndest to deserve any opportunity that came my way. But let's face it, sometimes it's luck. Being in the right place at the right time is important.

All of this brings me to a weird transitional place where I feel mildly successful, yet wholly unpolished. I feel... vaguely fraudulent. When I hang around my truly successful friends and acquaintances I am maybe putting on a bit of a show, a masquerade designed to hide the tap dancing spazz inside. Because my guts are still screaming OMG!!! with jazz hands while outside I am pretending that I always move in these circles elegantly and without hesitation. It would be funny if it weren't so terrifying.

Meanwhile I have done probably six reels for TV shows that want me to be everything from an expert home flipper to a sassy bitch who may or may not have a heart of gold. Where is the show with real people doing real design projects? Don't producers know this job is plenty dramatic enough? Doesn't America want to see a tap dancing spazz who can decorate? Also can this show please be located in Austin?

So now I don't know what to make of the blog. Do I create a shiny veneer, designed to market my perfect career and life, brimming with affiliate links and how to posts, staged with beautifully lit photos of the products I am using and things you can buy? You wouldn't believe how much traffic I could generate that way. And the free stuff! There is so much out there for bloggers.

I know it works for other people, and good for them! But for whatever reason I don't think it's good for me.

Unless I could get a new refrigerator or range out of the deal... I would like to remodel my kitchen. I will totally sell my soul, my kidneys, and maybe even my children for free high end appliances. I guess everyone has their price.

Anyway, what should we talk about? The piles of tile stacked up on my washer and dryer, stranded samples that may or may not find their way into the 17 bathrooms and 8 kitchens I am currently designing? Almost everything I am working on right now is under construction, and that makes for some sad sack visuals. Plus all of my clothes are covered in dust, and it's just terribly unglamorous up in here.

Other problems that need solving include: finding a way to get more projects published, finding an office, finding a location for the next Holy Grail pop up shop in April, finding time to shoot multiple completed projects, finding any time at all, and getting my kids to eat better food.

All I'm asking for is total world domination without losing myself.

Can you help? 

I'm listening.

GET JIBBY WITH IT

Among other projects, I'm currently working on the overhaul of a fantastic historic house in a beautiful tree lined neighborhood. This lady must have been quite the charmer in her day, but over the years previous tenants stripped and ripped and closed up and added on, and along with all the original finishes something got lost in translation.

Something like this door to nowhere, found boarded up behind a wall.

And this false wall built to conceal a canted ceiling and dormers. 

100+ years ago builders of middle class homes weren't as constrained by the economics of simple roof lines and square rooms as we are, and complexity and charm were more apparent than in today's standardized floorplans and assembly line design. Refreshing as that may be, the task of modernizing and restoring this beauty is a bit daunting. Despite heroic measures by the architect it is still filled with many an odd nook and cranny, and it isn't easy to make those cutouts and angles feel sensical, immutable. It requires ingenuity, camouflage, subterfuge.

I think it's going to require a secret room.

Moving a staircase and annexing some nearby space has created an opportunity to completely conceal this library from the rest of the house by way of a jib door, AKA a secret door that is paneled or papered or otherwise finished to seamlessly transition into the wall. 

No casing, minimal hardware, and a super tight reveal are necessary for maximum mystery effect. Luckily my clients have a very skilled contractor, because this is not a weekend DIY project (unless you are way handier than me, in which case let's talk).

When my brilliant client first suggested this idea, I almost cried because I wanted it so bad. Who has never dreamed they found an extra magical room, hidden behind a door no one knew existed? I think I might be crying now. 

My brilliant client's brilliant husband joked we should add some ridiculous Goonies style code to open the door, and I said YES and I wasn't joking at all. Not sure that part is going to happen, but I'm not giving up yet.

And then my client suggested that the secret room behind the secret door should have an Alice in Wonderland effect, like so:

And I started crying again... I cry a lot on this job. It's just going to be that good. These people are going to make for excellent caretakers of this house.

So that's what's happening with #projecthistorichouse, which you can follow on my instagram account. It's a long term project, so there should be tons to see along the way and I am super excited to watch it unfold (crying again).

Meanwhile #projectmidmod is 95% complete and almost ready for a shoot, and multiple other projects are at various stages of awesomeness. Summer is slowing me down a bit, but I am hoping to share some reveals with you very soon. 

It's great to be back!