Thursday, August 14, 2014

Sail cloth

Tocco and I (and Brian DeM!) have been talking about sail cloth today. You can really make some amazing things with it.

For example, I want to make an clean and bright overhead umbrella for a corner of the backyard:



Tocco wants to add more privacy to the fences along the side of the house:

And Brian wants a bag that's at least a little bit as awesome as he is:


Good stuff. I especially love the huge triangles in the sky, like a giant sail overhead. I feel like it would be pretty dreamy in the yard. And it only makes sense since we live near so much water, to add more sail cloth pretty much everywhere.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014


I really love this photo Tocco took today: "The daily ferry commute to work, crossing the bay, a slalom course through one of the largest ship parking lots I've ever seen. I don't even know if I captured all of them. It feels like they are getting more and more each day." 

Danger danger

Just came across this collection of outlet photos from when we first moved in. Goodness! They look so torched and scorchy, I'm surprised the house didn't burn down... 

Tuesday, August 12, 2014


I found this photo print today at 20x200. It looks so much like our backyard!! We should start ca$hing in. zOMG

Upon further inspection I find the artist, Liz Kuball's, statement charming - and she's from DC! Kindreds.

"When you move out to California from back east, you come for a reason: You're leaving behind a bad relationship, escaping your hometown or thinking you'll be a star. And what you find when you get here is that things aren't what you thought they'd be. There's some of what you expected—sunshine and palm trees and long, wide beaches. But there's more: houses with cacti and succulents in place of the green lawns you grew up with; women in bikinis climbing ladders; trees groomed in an archway, the expected path between them blocked by a gateless chain-link fence. You answer an ad on craigslist for a used car and find yourself in a boxed-in car lot in Van Nuys and go for pie at Du-par's afterward, because pie makes sense when you're on Ventura Boulevard and it's 95 degrees and the car wasn't what the ad said it would be. And you'd think that, after all this, you'd become disillusioned and go back home; some do, of course, but many more of us stay and, instead of growing bitter, we hang on—hang on to a world that, to us, is even more fantastic than the one we thought we'd find, because it's real in its absurdity and because we have stories to tell."