early-september

october I am  a wandering poet and muse. I use color, sculpture and light to woo the heart and eye. I weave a blanket of joyful sacredness into gardens, homes and rooms. We all want to be more than just frenzied, trendy consumers and competitors. We want to give expression to our SPIRIT as well.

Expression of our individual spirits brings this thought to my 1956 aluminium trailer with cramped quarters, sandy sheets, spiders and a bucket for a dishwasher. Perfect design can also be found in awkward places like this because it requires you to find the simplistic perfection in the LIVING that takes place within it. It retrains the eye into seeing that no interior space is perfect until it plays host to the uncomposed messiness of children, food, laughter, pets… not always in that order.

This first blog is written while on the road in our vintage trailer with our youngest two children. We have christened this antique “Little Cowboy” and while I admit to hanging gold, gilded cowboy paintings on the rich wood paneling and to recovering the cushions in Ralph Lauren’s decadent brown and blue velvet- and yes I confess the entry is gifted with riotous potted geraniums- the tiny, unplugged quarters grace us all with fresh eyes for the perfection in EVERYTHING including the sandy, the sticky and the gooey. So take a break from your staged living room and go submerge your feet in some wet sand, listen to the symphony of birds in the early morning, watch small children explode with laughter running in and out of the lake, drip ice cream down your shirt and read until your eyes can no longer see the print on the page. This moment, this pause, this stepping off into a different place, is better than good… it is poetic perfection.

 
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