
My perfect recipe for style begins not with rules, but with rhythm: an ounce of warmth, a shot of color, a generous pour of tradition and an abundant infusion of travel. Stirred together, these elements create something far greater than design. They create a feeling, a space that doesn’t just exist but embraces, and a home that welcomes before you even cross the threshold.
This home, nestled in El Paso, has been exactly that: a place where stories gathered, where laughter lingered and where every corner held intention. It was never about perfection, only about presence.
Where Stories Begin
Long before I understood design, I understood memory.
Fifty-three years ago, I was a child on my grandparents’ farm just west of Las Cruces, gathering eggs alongside my grandmother. It was a simple, beautiful moment until it wasn’t. A peacock, perched high atop a haystack, took offense to my presence and launched into an attack. In one swift, decisive act, my grandmother grabbed a roll of baling wire and ended the chaos.
It was startling. It was unforgettable. And somehow, it became sacred.
The feathers from that moment have followed me throughout my life, appearing again and again as decorative elements in my homes. They are not just objects. They are memories made visible, a reminder of strength, protection and a woman who acted without hesitation. They are, in many ways, the beginning of my understanding that design is not about things. It is about meaning.