I really love the work of Florist Sarah Wright.  Or should I say Botanist, Agriculturalist, Expert of Everything that Grows Sarah Wright!

Thanks to my north shore friends, I discovered Sarah and her Evanston shop, Four Finches, before my daughter was married last year.  We had gorgeous floral arrangements at every event throughout the year, and a great working relationship with Sarah that made our floral orders quite effortless.

Four Finches is in a quirky area of Evanston at 1320 Sherman Ave., Studio 105.  There is a large sidewalk sign on Sherman, and a long breezeway to the door that leads you to the shop.  But the easier and more interesting way to get to four finches is to search for the alley sign around the corner on Dempster.  Then follow the alley to some cute window boxes and larger double doors that announce you’ve arrived.

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Thirty years ago, I wandered into a storefront down the street and met a woman who would become a friend for life.  Kay Smith.  She had a small studio where she held watercolor classes.  Seven or eight of us would meet weekly to struggle through trying to capture the shape of a lily or the shadow of a fruit bowl.

I had art classes in college, but I never had an instructor who pored over each and every composition we attempted, or saved a painting from the trash with a quick stroke of her brush.

It was an intense group – we talked while we worked.  We all disclosed details of our lives.  The age range was huge – 25 to 85.  Until then, I’d never met women in their eighties who used the f-word so effectively!

I had to drop my watercolor class to start design school, which was all-consuming.  But Kay and I never lost touch.  We would meet for lunch or tea in her garden, and she hired me for decorating the minute I got established.

Kay is a historic painter.  She captures moments in history like no other.  But her paintings reflect only a small sliver of her understanding of history.  A longtime George Washington scholar, she calls him “my beloved.”  Her subjects have taken her far beyond the Delaware, though.  She toured the entire theater of the American Revolution, followed Columbus’ path in Spain, traveled the Lewis and Clark trail, studied John Adams’ ancestral home in England, met each of the Triple Crown winners in retirement, and followed Hemingway into old age.

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Awnings.  Not a very exciting topic, I know.  But I wanted to dash off a quick blurb about a recent experience.

We got a call from a frantic client that their new loft had a very sad front door off the alley.  What could we do to turn their unfortunate entrance into a charming, welcoming little spot?

After seeing the door in question, we decided they needed to “own” this entrance and make known to their guests that this is the SPOT.  Come right in to our wonderful home!  To do this, we painted the door fire-engine red, added a cute little light, and commissioned a slick back awning with their address on it .  Success!

In doing this project, I became very aware of awnings.  What a wonderful little invention!  Suddenly, the world of awnings beckoned to me in ways that had been totally subliminal in the past.  I was drawn first to all entrances with awnings.

They announce that this is the place.  This is the front door.  This is the business you’re looking for.

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“Everyone of us has had the experience of realizing that suddenly one had, for an instant, seen beyond the boundaries of the ‘ordinary.’  Such is the sudden realization that ‘I am alive.'”                                                                                                        -Edgar Miller

Many years ago, when we were looking for our family home in Chicago, we came across several houses that were designed by artist Edgar Miller.  At the time we were interested in purchasing the former Walter Guest Apartments at 2150 N. Cleveland, which he had created with fellow artist Sol Kogen in 1932.  Once I saw their work, I never forgot it.

The former Walter Guest apartments at 2150 N. Cleveland St.

How many times have I passed by the red gate at 1734 N. Wells Street?  That was once the gateway to the Kogen-Miller Studios.  Or the Carl Street Studios – now private homes tucked away at 155 W. Burton Place in the heart of Old Town?  And the very visible Frank F. Fisher Apartments at 1209 N. State Parkway? Driving around Old Town streets, I still see fences, windows, door trim, and carvings that have the Miller signature all over them.

The red gate at 1734 N. Wells St.

A Burton Place courtyard.

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There’s a magical garden in the heart of Marrakesh.  The Majorelle Gardens.

This is the spot in Marrakesh where Jacques Majorelle, a French painter, moved to in 1919 and created the gardens for himself as an ideal painting place.  For years after the painter’s death, this 12-acre botanical retreat remained open for the public to enjoy the many varieties of cacti, tropical plants, handmade pottery, and koi-filled lily ponds.

However, in 1980, Yves Saint Laurent and his partner, Pierre Berge, purchased the gardens for the purpose of restoring them to their original glory. The largest building, formerly Majorelle’s workshop, now houses Saint Laurent’s and Berge’s personal collection of Islamic art and artifacts.  There is a also a small cafe open for breakfast.

I remember wandering in the gardens before they were closed for renovation.  And even in its faded beauty, Majorelle held a special charm.

The quietude and spell of nature surrounded by the hubbub of street hawkers, cars and donkey carts, and hordes of tourists was very unique indeed.

As it turns out, of all the colors in the garden, the boldest one became famous.  The largest studio, many of the shallow pools, and decorative mosaics all boast “bleu Majorelle” – named after the artist who made it so popular.

To my mind, the color is a deep drink of the Mediterranean…the wild-child version of periwinkle with an added electric shock!

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The New York Times style Magazine recently ran a fascinating article on Renzo Mongiardino.  If you don’t know this name, he was an Italian who became the decorating idol of the rich and famous in the 1970s and 80s.

I really resonate with his work because he is outrageous and fearless and, as the article describes him, “Employing lush romanticism and arcane classical references pulled from a magic bag of artificial effects, he enabled a certain sector of the very rich to make their own mark on the 20th century.”

Most of Mongiardino’s work lived in the grand houses of Europe and England, although he did design the occasional movie set, such as the one for Zeffirelli’s 1968 production of Romeo & Juliet and several opera sets for Minotti.  Lee Radziwill is the only American I can think of who had a Mongiardino-inspired home – and that was at Turville Grange outside of London.

This article, by Nancy Hass (photos by Simon Upton) is long and lush.  There are so many quotes that perfectly capture the Mongiardino mood – indulge me here again.  For him (Renzo) the past was fluid; historical periods and literary allusions were meant to flow together as gracefully as the Tiber.  His glamourous rooms, weeping with emotion, were always, as his friend Umberto Pasti wrote, dusted with ‘the corrosive breath of melancholy.’ “

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At the Blue Moon Lodge.

Even though it’s 45 degrees and raining.

It’s always a challenge to choose the perfect weekend to open our cabin and pull out the porch furniture.

This weekend has failed us.  No sun, strong chilly wind.  Yet I’m about to set out my bright, summery rugs and cushions and hang graphics that depict moments of summer that are still a fantasy.

We celebrate so many wonderful family events at our cabin – the 4th of July, Labor Day, Thanksgiving.  But our busy winter schedule, and the mud and gloom that prevails in Indiana then, holds us at bay until spring cleaning brings us back. Our screen porch at the cabin is almost as big as the cabin, itself!  I’ve collected comfortable chairs for years to create private little areas where guests can sneak away.  Seeing my chairs in place makes me think summer, but I have to keep my gloves on as I pull them from storage!

So I may postpone the porch until further into May…

I’ll take you on a tour instead.

It seems that spring arrived very late at the cabin.  Looking across the lake, I can still see through the trees, so that means the leaves have a way to go to reach their full glory.  And my cattails haven’t sent up many green shoots yet.  Although they’re usually exploding by Labor Day.

We lost half of one of our big, beautiful pine trees over Christmas in a horrific wind storm.  Got a call from our neighbor who gave us the bad news.  Fortunately the top fell toward the dock and didn’t really damage anything.

I’ve put a few accessories on the porch, but only half-heartedly.  There’s a green dust that settles at some point in April.  Although it’s a month later, I don’t see any traces yet, so putting out the rugs and cushions this weekend could be counterproductive.

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This was going to be a blog about southern style interiors, but…

Just got back from another road trip with my two daughters, again, in and around North Carolina.   As I reflect, I realize that the interiors I saw and loved were about so much more than interiors. They reflect the life attitudes that created them.  Lifestyle approaches that fascinate a multi-tasking northerner like me,  yet seem perfectly natural to southerners.

Our family is big on airbnbs.  They take the sterile hotel out of travel and insert some humanness into a stay.  Sort of like Etsy does with shoppers –  a retail experience with a lot of human touches.  This is an innkeeping approach that offers homemade cookies, post-it notes with smiley faces and somebody’s idea of the perfect homey touches.

First stop – Carrboro, NC.  Just outside of Durham, we landed in a crazy airbnb over Johnny’s Café.  This is a stand- alone building with a huge yard, lots of tables and umbrellas, and dozens of people sitting around conversing and working on their computers.  Reminded me of a rural version of Starbucks.

Our “apartment” over the store was vintage grandma.

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I read recently that Haeger Pottery is closing its doors after 145 years in business.  This makes me a little sad, because I own several vintage Haeger vases that are beautiful and fresh every time I bring them down from the shelf.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/suburbs/elgin-courier-news/news/ct-ecn-east-dundee-haeger-closing-st-0406-20160405-story.html

This is my vase closet, and , as you can see, I enjoy collecting vintage pottery vases.

The Wall Street Journal recently ran an article on a young writer’s Jasperware (or Wedgwood) collection , which she dubbed “granny chic.”

http://www.wsj.com/articles/the-fancy-old-lady-allure-of-wedgwoods-jasperware-1460042312

I agree – vintage vases have a breath of nostalgia about them, but they do make flowers look grand.

If you have even a small interest in collecting a few beautiful vases, you don’t have to look very far.  Every antique and resale shop around has shelves full of them, low-priced and pastel pretty.

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Just got back from a short road trip with my husband.  We wanted to break in our new car – and maybe soak up a bit of spring.

I was excited to travel through several small cities and towns further south that I’d always heard about and never visited.  We literally did drive-throughs and maybe a few side trips if a neighborhood caught our eye.  And of course, I immediately got impressions of how people live and how they feel about their environments by observing porches and window treatments and landscapes.  I could start to fantasize a life, living in ____________.

Too bad there’s not a name like “Foodies” for people who obsess about interiors (Spaceballs?)  But I tend to picture interiors anywhere I find myself.  So I started playing a little game of designing a room that described the impression of some of the towns we drove through.  It’s a very personal impression I’m picturing – you can write and tell me if you agree.  Anyway, here goes:

INDIANAPOLS, IN

Home of Angie’s List, of course!

What a lovely downtown – very elegant.  Almost old world.  The streets are wide and grand.

I think folks have updated a bit here, but probably keep that traditional grandness alive and comfortable.

LOUISVILLE, KY (“Luvul”)

Surprising that I didn’t see more Kentucky Derby influences.  Nice old place. Thriving downtown, and a fun looking old town with good restaurants and bars.

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