Any remarkable of work of design beckons us. We might not know why, but something about it is calling to us. I’m drawn to places that cause me to feel anything is possible, and I’ve searched the world for spaces that evoke that feeling. Great cathedrals do
that, smaller chapels do too, like Eero Saarinen’s gem at MIT, and so did the Riad El Fenn, in Marrakech, Morocco. When I was there, so captivated by everything around me, I was unable to leave. And so I didn’t, I stayed the night. Then there’s the Pantheon, which always feels like it exists in its own gravitational orbit, one that’s pulling me in.
And so I was not surprised that on a recent trip to Rome, I found myself there.
On this particular day, standing inside a transformative space that’s existed for millennia, under its oculus with light streaming all around, hearing sounds that were muffled and harmonic, I felt like time had stopped. I was held by beauty, in an embrace that was gentle and powerful. It was a perfect moment in my life.
How often do we get to have a perfect moment? And when we do, how often are we aware we’re in the midst of one? If we aren’t, imagine how much happier, calmer, more fulfilled we would be if we were. My mind gets caught up in thoughts like these when I’m working. I’m absorbed in ways to create perfect moments for clients: a flower, a collection of sea glass, a picture of a loved one. Some call them altars. To me, they are moments of pause. Deeply personal expressions of what is meaningful or sacred, these spaces evoke a sense of wonder and discovery. And when you come upon one, it
allows you to be a little bit more connected to yourself.
Throughout a home, I want people to encounter moments that speak to them so strongly that they stop. Stop and give thanks. Stop and gaze in wonderment. Stop and simply breathe. That’s the ideal scenario, and while I know it may not be the real scenario, I design for the ideal. This home, filled with spaces, nooks and thresholds that pause time and is awash in its own story, is fairly close to that ideal.
Tranquillity in the Bay Area
Once upon a time, this house, situated in the hills of Northern California, was a traditional California ranch house; today it’s a transformed California ranch, inspired by the ancient technique of the Japanese process of Shou Sugi Ban, and, driven with the clients’ vision, we wrapped the front of the house in treated wood to look and feel like the Shou Sugi Ban.
Behind the wood we used a roofing material as weatherproofing—a true story of innovation with materials. This house was a collaboration of designers and, at its core, created a very deep trust between all of us who worked on the design. It was an almost-sacred gift and one of the most special projects I have ever worked on. The “wrapper” elicits an internal dialogue, “What is that?” Can I get closer to it? I want to know it.” The house has beckoned. It’s invited you in, and with that, you’ve just experienced your first moment of pause.
Moments of Pause
