Designing for your life NOW.

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.)

How did I get here?

It feels surreal to be sitting here, writing this.

Owen (5) and Emmett (2), the most important things I've ever had a hand in creating

Just a few short weeks ago I was sitting at a different desk, behind a different computer, spending altogether too many hours on conference calls and firing off emails at all hours of the day and night. I was stretched thin, trying to keep up with an increasingly busy schedule at work and a never-ending busy schedule at home. (The inevitable crunch that happens when two busy, driven people have two high-energy, hilarious, sweet, wild boys). It wasn't sustainable. And though I loved many aspects of that role, it wasn't what I truly wanted to be doing.

So I left.

And now I'm here.

When I was a kid I remember buying rolls of trace paper and some fancy mechanical pencils and spending hours drawing floor plans. Imaginary houses for imaginary people, sure, but I agonized over where to put the windows to maximize the light, and how to set up their furniture as if they were real clients. I had friends too, I swear... this was just my favorite creative outlet for many years. Fast forward to my sophomore year at Connecticut College, where I was debating between majoring in art or psychology (art therapy, anyone?) and flipping through pamphlets about various abroad programs. As soon as I saw an architecture/art history program in Florence, Italy, my heart grew wings and my mind was made up. I was as happy as that little girl drawing fake floor plans again. And so it was that I traveled around Europe soaking up art and architecture like a sponge, and came home to double major in psychology and architecture, combining two of my true passions. After graduation I dabbled in design school (not for me -- it felt somewhat redundant to what I had just done for 3 years) and ultimately found a temporary home as a visual merchandiser for Crate & Barrel, creating tablescapes and designing fake bedroom scenes and perfecting the art of displaying product so you couldn't help but buy it (combination of art & psychology again!).

Ultimately my drive to ditch the retail hours and make a little bit more money overtook my penchant for setting up products in pretty displays, and I changed gears and tried my hand at Human Resources for a consulting firm. That starter job morphed into a nearly 10 year career in corporate learning and development (and a master's degree in Organizational Behavior with a focus on Leadership Studies) that I never expected. It was a wonderful, enriching, challenging period of growth for me.

But, as they often do, things came full circle. My passion for design came back with a vengeance (or perhaps never really went away at all), and no amount of side projects or DIYing in my spare time or helping friends pick paint colors via text messages was going to scratch that itch. 

So I'm giving it a shot.

And not just an "Eh, I'll see where this goes" kind of shot. A real shot. I quit my job, rebalanced my life and I'm ready to start this new chapter.

Call me, maybe?