I did keep it simple (which is a good idea considering my proficiency in the kitchen) and was happy that I am finally feeling that my house is starting to look like me.

It did from the start, I suppose, though now it is fuller.  More nuanced.  It’s good to be at the point where I can worry about the music and whether or not I have enough tonic and not how to accommodate an evening with company when there’s a big dark hole in the corner that has no lamp.

Does anyone but me notice when something isn’t right? Probably not. But the energy is different and I can feel its shift.

Speaking of nuanced, these rooms designed by Nick Olsen are some of my favorites.  His site looks great and you’re sure to find plenty of inspiration there by clicking here.  


Images, My Domaine, photography by Reid Rolls.  You can find the story here.

I actually don’t remember how I met New York-based decorator, Nick Olsen.  I’m sure we were introduced through blogging, as his posts were a first-stop back in the day when my blog stops were many.

I know for certain that when we met, wherever it was, that I knew that he was the real deal.  His voice and aesthetic are as clear and honest in life as on-line.  Lucky for me, he likes my Leo-ness (it can overwhelm) and we became friends.  We became real friends, not just internet friends, for which I will always be grateful.

I have thick files stuffed with the work of a few of my favorite designers.  I like it when I have a copy of all of their published works.  Nick’s was made thicker this month with his inclusion in Architectural Digest and I know there’s loads more to come.  You can find the whole story – and a great deal of inspiration – here.

Images, Architectural Digest, August 2015.  Photography Pieter Estersohn; produced by (another favorite) Howard Christian.  (Fellas, that musta been a fun shoot.)

I went to Christopher Filley’s to find a lantern (as Christopher’s is always the best place to start when looking for lanterns.) I did, find the lantern I mean – a pair in fact – and good company as well.  It would have been silly to be on the block and not stop in to see Barbara Farmer at Parrin & Co.  I cannot think of a shop in town that has more beautiful table top.  I marched on through the heat to Cindy Kincaid’s where, in the back of the shop, a small Chinese dish painted with the most delicate pale pink flowers winked at me. There was nothing to do but bring her home.  (Pink! Who would have ever thought?)

It was in Pat Posten’s where lightening struck.  It shouldn’t have been a surprise, really, any more than one should be surprised at the flash in the sky and the boom of the thunder in the midst of a downpour.  Pat’s shop is chocked full of magical things.  A stunning bronze ram’s head, a wall of dog paintings, the most delightful black and white inlay box.  As charmed as I was by her selection, I wandered out thinking, “There’s nothing I need here today.”

But as I neared the door I glanced down under a bench and there she was.  This Chinese pottery doesn’t pop up in Kansas City very often.  I have a very sophisticated friend who has said, “I like it that you’re collecting.  I just wish you were collecting something a little… better.” Perhaps it is because we have so much in common, the pottery and I.  Exuberance without pedigree.  (I’d like to claim cheerfulness, too, but in the middle of a very tiresome swim meet this week a good friend said, “You may need a prescription for medical marijuana.  You need to relax.” Cheerfulness may not be on my list of best traits.)

I had left the house looking for a lantern.  I knew exactly what I wanted and needed. “Chinese jar” was not on the list.  I did not expect to find one that day, but how could I refuse her? The birds on most of the jars in my collection are red.  I like the black bird best as he resembles a crow, a species of which I am quite fond. But I had never seen a jar before where the bird was yellow.  I wouldn’t have thought I wanted yellow, yet there it was and my heart said, “Yes.”

I have incredible respect for designers.  These men and women, for the most part, start with what is known as “a good eye” and educate themselves, either through school or experience or both, to create spaces that allow us to live our lives in beauty and comfort with a understanding of function and practicality.  My latest piece in Spaces Kansas City sheds some light on the design process and how to treat these professionals with respect.  You can find it here.

Image, above, Spaces Kansas City, June 2015; photography Aaron Leimkuehler, whom I think is pretty swell.

“I need to get away,” I said to my middle son yesterday.  He brought his sun-bleached eyebrows together over his freckled nose and studied my face.

“You do,” he said, nodding, as if he could see inside my tumbling mind.  “Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t think I can really get away until I take your brother to school.  Maybe St. Louis for a couple of days.”

He looked alarmed.  “Not St. Louis,” he said firmly.

I can’t keep my aesthetic from the keyboard, but not everything is of such saturated hues.  More muted tones, like the ones in this pillow, above, are equally plentiful on the site.  Mela & Roam’s Instagram feed is here.