This is my living room.
From a design perspective, there are lots of things I want to change about it; so many projects I have bouncing around in the back of my head. It is comfortable and fun and functional, but not exactly a shining example of the cohesive, creative spaces I create in other peoples' homes.
But it is my home.
And do you know what happens in my home?
This.
And having a space where my kids can do this, to me, is a lot more important than having a house that looks like a showroom. You should hear the squeals of joy -- you'd allow it too if you did.
Clients will often give me their grand plan for their space... and then the laundry list of reasons that won't work for their lives at the moment.
My theory is: design for the life you live, instead of living your life walking on eggshells around your design.
Given that I have two rambunctious boys under the age of 6 in my own house, my challenges are questions of durability (and safety). Will they pull those floor-length window treatments down off the wall? Will they split their foreheads on the corner of that glass coffee table? Will they scratch the surface of that beautiful hand-turned dining table playing Legos?
The answer is probably yes. At least it is at my house.
That said, I relish the idea of designing a pristine living room with white upholstery, lit with the sparkle of a crystal chandelier. That's why I'm a designer -- so I can do it in someone else's house. Because right now, that design does NOT fit my life.
I strive to create spaces that help you live your life better. Whatever that looks like for you. Right now.
And maybe someday I'll have that glass coffee table after all.
(P.S. No children were harmed in the making of these photos.)