Archive for the ‘exterior’ Category


Monday, November 12th, 2012

I headed westward to San Diego this past weekend to traipse through strangers homes and quickly snap photos of all their modern modernism. Photographing interiors during events like this always turns into an awkward creepy shuffling experiment in social timing to avoid photographing random tour attendees, which I’m happy to do because I’m a fucking nice person. Nothing is worse than ending up in the background of some strangers photo looking all wild-eyed and barely passing as human.

Sorry strangers, that’s how I look for everywhere. I ruin your photo memories.

Of course taking photos in any sort of tour situation requires the ability to radiate powerful creep energy that gently shuffles people out of the cameras frame. Lucky for you guys, I’m creepy and made a few DHTSD12 photos happen. *I abbreviated Dwell Home Tours San Diego 2012 to save time because I respect you.

You’re welcome.

Hot Tip Time: To be modern at home you will need some wood, hot rolled steel, concrete poured or formed, drought tolerant stuff, decomposed granite, feather grass, fescue, plywood, pavers, succulents, cacti, a couple gabion walls, bathrooms that are off limits, no screens, ocean views, assorted rocks or pebbles, giant windows, vintage furniture and a shit ton of money. Coolio, now everyone get right on that.

I’m clearly jealous because my landscaping is made of dirt and sadness.

Some day? Something might happen to the exterior. Well, that’s if the local ‘pros’ would stop setting the fence on fire and being terrible at doing anything, ever. Also, it might help moral and motivation to keep improving the exterior and landscaping if certain dirtbags stopped stealing stuff off the porch.

YEAH. YOU. I know who you are.

Bring back my vintage bullet planter + cactus and Acapulco chairs you cowardly dicks. I hope that giant cactus tore up your stupid face you weirdos. Oh, and FYI, the cat hoarder neighbors gross cats peed all over that, so enjoy it you turds. It took me eight months to find those chairs and months of nurturing the crap out of that cactus.

I don’t nurture anything! I never even had a chance to post about the chairs! This is madness.

Looks like we’ve veered wildly off topic. Sorry.

Blah blah, the Dwell tours pumped me up to tackle outdoor projects, blah blah the next morning its discovered that some¬† scummy dickbags crept around the house and stole a few outdoor pieces we’d invested a good bit of time and funds into. This pretty much killed all project excitement and I freak out on instagram and at my neighbors. So now it feels silly to throw a bunch of energy and funds into landscaping a house in this crappy town that will ultimately have things snatched or trashed by idiots, get covered in feral cat pee or continue to host the nightly cat orgy.

You win, Hemet. Dirt bag is the new modern.

Just guessing that being full of rage might make me cloudy in terms of reasoned thoughts, but I’m stuck wondering at what point do we give up and quit? I mean, quit working on this general house fixing up project? Do folks just go screw this, it ain’t worth it and stop?

I’m no good at breaking up, even with a house. I miss my chairs.



Ugh. My cactus and chairs boo hoo, I’m such a tool. There’s Sandy and real problems that matter so I’m donating Red Cross style here so I feel like less of a tool. The real charity is for my feelings.

Oh! Also, a nod to the surprising number of unrelated people complaining about the lack of foul language around here – I made the effort. YOU’RE WELCOME.


Sunday, April 15th, 2012

The New York Times recently featured artist Doug Aitken’s home in Venice, California and I’m crushing on it so very hard.

It’s torturous.

Considering that it’s been a good long while since I’ve felt that deep gnawing tingle of a hardcore house crush, I had completely forgotten how creepy it feels to suddenly catch myself randomly daydreaming about a total strangers home.

Please stop seducing me, Doug Aitken’s house.

Also, please stop making me want piles of these Constance Holt Bolivian frasada pillows and all of Jamey Garza’s leather furniture so goddamn bad. I can’t afford this stuff. I CAN’T.

Despite being deeply obsessed with everything Bolivian textile now, I still haven’t woken up as a person who can afford to run over to Heath in LA and grab a shitload of $400 pillows. So, I’m spiraling into madness and spending dumb amounts of energy looking to source affordable Bolivian blankets and such. The reality of the sheer volume of time that’s been dedicated to this endeavor would terrify and concern folks.

Good thing all that concentrated effort has amounted in exactly squat.

On the bright side? At least I know what my next six months are dedicated to finding. Thanks again, crazy brain.

I need so much Garza Furniture in my life (to fill up that deep dark needy furniture shaped hole in my heart).

Go ahead and quit trying to tease me with that sassy little poppy leg and peek of perfect leather. I get it, chair. I like you.

You win.

Wood. Windows. Rails. Work it girl.

We just started moving ahead with some big landscaping projects (like a custom gate and steel planters and so much DG) and I keep returning back to this simple little outdoor area with it’s casual succulent and cacti plantings. I’m totally going to so casually plant desert type plants all over my yards. I’m going to do that so hard.

Hell yeah I am.

Also, did you know that this house is also a musical instrument? Yup. Apparently.


Monday, July 18th, 2011

I picked up this large sculptural wood bench ages ago off Craigslist with the intent of sticking it somewhere outside in our sparse and minimal desert landscape. Seeing as the landscape hasn’t gotten past the weeds and dirt stage of the overall grand scheme, this little bench has just been chillaxing by the fire pit and gathering spider webs – like most of the projects around here.

Maybe one day it will go on the porch? Or by the pool? Or maybe in the front yard? I don’t know. For now it’s just going to sit outside and gather dust. I like to imagine it inside a large open all white industrial loft space as a place to put your shoes on and gather your things in a mega sparse entryway. That would be amazing – but inside my house it just feels a tad overwhelming.

Been busy working on various things and still suffering a case of house burn out. Trying to get motivated to care deeply again, but really, all I want to do is swim and read and travel and play with the dogs. Hope you guys are doing the same.