Welcome to House and Home.
Strap on your pith helmets, darlings, we're going on high-design safari. And I, your Goddess, will be your guide.
From our particular corner of the Pacific Northwest (Seattle) we will hunt for the new and modern. The great and, sometimes, the outstandingly not-great.
Seattle is blessed with more than our fair share of architects who have accepted the riskiest (yet quite possibly the most rewarding) of design assignments, specializing in home design. They are re-inventing the way we live: The way we think about home: What we do there: How we behave there. Architects are reshaping what goes on in our most personal and prized possession -- our nest.
This matters. We kill for this. Protecting hearth and home; it's why we go to war. Dorothy tells us, "There's no place like home." There is not. And there isn't any place like your home, either. Mine isn't yours. Yours isn't your parent's.
So this is important. All of it. From the million-dollar mortgage to the tassels on the pillows.
Our residential architects are drawing up and building out a future that will leave our planet with contemporary dwellings great and small, light-filled and spare, sustainable and green. Planted on rolling acreage and inserted between the Victorians.
And that is just the beginning. Such creativity has sparked a flame of design inventiveness: in furniture, lighting, fabric, landscape and interior design. From the elitest showrooms of the Seattle Design Center to the college roommates who pooled their dough to rent an old warehouse and give it go.
We seek to know them all. With no limits. One man's Barcelona Chair is another man's sawed-off whiskey barrel.
Blah, blah, blah. Now, for the fun part, which is the rest of this blog. Forever and ever.
Starting now.
Stay tuned, children.
Strap on your pith helmets, darlings, we're going on high-design safari. And I, your Goddess, will be your guide.
From our particular corner of the Pacific Northwest (Seattle) we will hunt for the new and modern. The great and, sometimes, the outstandingly not-great.
Seattle is blessed with more than our fair share of architects who have accepted the riskiest (yet quite possibly the most rewarding) of design assignments, specializing in home design. They are re-inventing the way we live: The way we think about home: What we do there: How we behave there. Architects are reshaping what goes on in our most personal and prized possession -- our nest.
This matters. We kill for this. Protecting hearth and home; it's why we go to war. Dorothy tells us, "There's no place like home." There is not. And there isn't any place like your home, either. Mine isn't yours. Yours isn't your parent's.
So this is important. All of it. From the million-dollar mortgage to the tassels on the pillows.
Our residential architects are drawing up and building out a future that will leave our planet with contemporary dwellings great and small, light-filled and spare, sustainable and green. Planted on rolling acreage and inserted between the Victorians.
And that is just the beginning. Such creativity has sparked a flame of design inventiveness: in furniture, lighting, fabric, landscape and interior design. From the elitest showrooms of the Seattle Design Center to the college roommates who pooled their dough to rent an old warehouse and give it go.
We seek to know them all. With no limits. One man's Barcelona Chair is another man's sawed-off whiskey barrel.
Blah, blah, blah. Now, for the fun part, which is the rest of this blog. Forever and ever.
Starting now.
Stay tuned, children.
As usual, a great intro into the Seattle home design theme for those of us who live in exile! Keep the commentary coming!
ReplyDeleteGreat intro! I'm very much looking forward to being on this journey.
ReplyDeleteHey - just read your story in the Seattle Times on the midcentury with the myrtlewood floors. I would love to know what finish was used on their Myrtlewood floor (and who did it). I redid my 1956 kitchen in Myrtlewood and the finish isn't right and I need to have them redone. Thanks.
ReplyDelete