My love of design began with the spaces I grew up in. Growing up in a victorian revival home built in the late 1800’s I found myself constantly curious about the idiosyncrasies and hidden features reflective of a lifestyle so vastly different from mine. Wondering what the contraption that pulls things up and down was used for (later revealed to me as a dumb waiter), and what the little yet ornate iron stopper outside the front door was (a place to tie your horse). Without even knowing those were my first lessons in architectural orders. My curiosity for how society influenced the spaces we live in and vice versa only continued to grow, leading me to the essential question all my design pursuits are in response to: 

    How is my client going to live in this space? and how will living in this space affect the way they move through the world?

 The intimate nature of residential design is never lost on me, as designers, we have the responsibility to go beyond the aesthetics and seek to understand our client’s emotions towards and aspirations for a space. My goal is to always evoke a feeling when my clients walk into a completed space, what that feeling should be is part of the undertaking of a designer, to communicate with the nonverbal language of good design.

 During my career, one thing has stood out to me in the industry, and it’s the discrepancy between process and design. While I’ve always been organized, and attentive to detail, it was never imparted to me until I was in a managerial role how important and sometimes lacking organization is in the process of design. To me, the process has become equally as important as the finished product. I believe interior design is creative, but also deeply routed in the service industry, therefore the service that I offer should always be much more than just a beautiful end result. I strive to make the experience for my clients exploratory rather than nerve-racking.