An Ode to Home: 19th Street, San Francisco

Today, the first day of January, I wanted to publish photographs of my apartment over the seasons I’ve lived here as an ode and proclamation of gratefulness to home as haven.  Most of my belongings are imbued with history and a lovingly worn in feel; I infrequently buy new things, seeking a balance between my inherited aptitude for frugality and my lust for all that is luxurious.  I find such pleasure in the details, textures and shapes of handmade ceramics, folk woven basketry, Guatemalan textiles, Moroccan berber rugs, Japanese kimonos, faded velvet cushions, circular mirrors, open shelving, stone and marble accents, wooden bowls and carved objects, lovely paper garlands from Chinatown, abstract black and white sculpture, lean and sturdy blossoming branches, vintage kitchen accoutrements, my grandmother’s 1960s oil paintings, artworks from friends, living plants-particularly feathery ferns and asparagus fronds, everchanging arrangements that reflect the season, as much natural light as possible, and color, color, color.  In another life, or perhaps in this one, I’d happily be an interior decorator, inspired by Diana Vreeland’s sense of irreverent and dense arrangement, Coco Chanel’s modern minimalist restraint, my dear friend Rachel Corry‘s sense of the folkloric, the year I lived in India, my mother’s broad approach to employing textiles in the home, and an ever-growing confidence that the kitchen is the room I’d like to share with my loved ones most of all.  Looking forward to 2014 and all the new spaces, arrangements and artistry it will hold.  Happy New Year!


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