Your piece is vulnerable, wise, and generous! Thank you for sharing your thoughts & feelings on this subject; they will breed confidence for all of us to learn to love and style our spaces to look like ourselves. 🤎
This piece is quite timely for me as I am finishing a renovation, and I am struggling to be patient and not rush into decisions just so that I can be "done."
I have a question about art--or lack thereof. At several points in the timeline of the loft you kept your walls bare. Do you have a philosophy on placing art? Are there certain pieces of furniture or room arrangements where you just won't use wall art because it is too busy or pulls too much attention? Or do you just go with your gut in the moment. I always worry that my rooms will feel too empty or spare without something on the walls, but your apartment was so beautiful at every turn, and I find that inspiring. Thank you for another beautiful piece of writing.
Oh, I love this question. I don’t know that I have a true philosophy — more like a slow unfolding. Some of it was practical: art has always felt like a matter of budget and scale to me. I wanted pieces that meant something, not just placeholders, and those take time (and often money) to find.
So the walls stayed bare for a while, and strangely, that began to feel right. The plaster was done by hand — all those soft, uneven layers catching the light — and they started to feel like art themselves. There’s a quiet to them, a stillness, that became a kind of canvas for everything else: the objects, the books, the small arrangements that shift with the seasons.
I’ve learned not to rush. I’ve hung things too soon before, just to feel “finished,” and it never sat right. Now I let the walls breathe, and trust that the right piece will wander in when it’s meant to. Sometimes the empty space is its own kind of prayer.
You’re right, no rugs. I actually tried a few, but in a space that large they either looked like postage stamps or like I was rolling out wall-to-wall carpet, which wasn’t the point. And truthfully, the loft had such a strong voice of its own that every rug I brought in felt like I was shoving a pillow in its mouth. So I let the floors stay bare, and they ended up teaching me something: sometimes emptiness can be more grounding than any textile.
Case in point: I didn’t notice the wainscot on the left wall until the Nov. 2024 photo where you have that tiny light casting such moody shadows. Lovely.
Your mention of “living in the questions” reminded me of a Rilke quote to which you may be alluding—are you?
“I want to beg you, as much as I can, dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” (Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet)
Oh, Tribeca. I moved on. I think of that loft like an old friend who taught me patience and then reminded me it was time to keep walking. I’ll always be grateful for the years it gave me, and for the way it shaped my eye. Rooms don’t finish, they just pass you along. And yes, I remember! I hope you are enjoying. x
Colin, seeing the evolution, the trial and error, the experiments and returns is invaluable. Thank you for sharing. This kind of thoughtful retrospection is a thousand times more valuable than a single perfect editorial spread. ~ Mary Jo
Mostly through books, gallerists, and leaning on a community I’m so lucky to have cultivated. There’s nothing like a good library stack, a late-night catalog rabbit hole, or a dealer who sends you something they know you’ll love before you even know you need it.
Research for me has always been less about the “hunt” and more about the people and references I get to return to again and again. I’m very grateful for that web of voices and eyes I can lean on.
Most perfect rooms age badly… That hit the spot. I’ve noticed myself saying - ugh it’s to perfect. Or when photographing spaces, out loud in front of clients I’ll say out loud, “I need something ugly!” Quickly adding that piece to the perfect space and getting a calm reaction and fulfillment from everyone involved in the shoot after seeing why it works. Time is the best stylist, every shoot I ask the Architect or Designer to have the client leave their accessories/art and pieces they have collected over the years. Sometimes it’s their pieces that steal the show, and not the perfectly organized and curated items I bring to set. Thanks for the insight! 👌🏼
I really appreciate this reminder. Sometimes it can feel like you’re expected to have everything perfectly layered from trips and life experiences, but they simply haven’t happened yet and that’s kind of exciting.
This is SO on point! I’ve been sleeping on the mattress alone in an empty bedroom for more than a year because we wanted my fiancée to make the bed. The wait was so worth it! And it’s only now that I slowly add all the little things that make it my little oasis. And it’s only now, after 2 years, that I know what I need there.
Looking back on those now, do you have a favourite? The progression of the room was so interesting to see! Especially the sofa and coffee table changes.
Your piece is vulnerable, wise, and generous! Thank you for sharing your thoughts & feelings on this subject; they will breed confidence for all of us to learn to love and style our spaces to look like ourselves. 🤎
This piece is quite timely for me as I am finishing a renovation, and I am struggling to be patient and not rush into decisions just so that I can be "done."
I have a question about art--or lack thereof. At several points in the timeline of the loft you kept your walls bare. Do you have a philosophy on placing art? Are there certain pieces of furniture or room arrangements where you just won't use wall art because it is too busy or pulls too much attention? Or do you just go with your gut in the moment. I always worry that my rooms will feel too empty or spare without something on the walls, but your apartment was so beautiful at every turn, and I find that inspiring. Thank you for another beautiful piece of writing.
Oh, I love this question. I don’t know that I have a true philosophy — more like a slow unfolding. Some of it was practical: art has always felt like a matter of budget and scale to me. I wanted pieces that meant something, not just placeholders, and those take time (and often money) to find.
So the walls stayed bare for a while, and strangely, that began to feel right. The plaster was done by hand — all those soft, uneven layers catching the light — and they started to feel like art themselves. There’s a quiet to them, a stillness, that became a kind of canvas for everything else: the objects, the books, the small arrangements that shift with the seasons.
I’ve learned not to rush. I’ve hung things too soon before, just to feel “finished,” and it never sat right. Now I let the walls breathe, and trust that the right piece will wander in when it’s meant to. Sometimes the empty space is its own kind of prayer.
So helpful. Thank you!
Couldn’t agree more. Noticed you didn’t use rug(s) in your tribeca apartment. I wonder why that is.
You’re right, no rugs. I actually tried a few, but in a space that large they either looked like postage stamps or like I was rolling out wall-to-wall carpet, which wasn’t the point. And truthfully, the loft had such a strong voice of its own that every rug I brought in felt like I was shoving a pillow in its mouth. So I let the floors stay bare, and they ended up teaching me something: sometimes emptiness can be more grounding than any textile.
Case in point: I didn’t notice the wainscot on the left wall until the Nov. 2024 photo where you have that tiny light casting such moody shadows. Lovely.
Your mention of “living in the questions” reminded me of a Rilke quote to which you may be alluding—are you?
“I want to beg you, as much as I can, dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” (Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet)
Thx for sharing. Did you sell in Tribeca?
or are you there with nothing?
I bought your lamp and bowl !! Cheers
Oh, Tribeca. I moved on. I think of that loft like an old friend who taught me patience and then reminded me it was time to keep walking. I’ll always be grateful for the years it gave me, and for the way it shaped my eye. Rooms don’t finish, they just pass you along. And yes, I remember! I hope you are enjoying. x
Thanks, yes, am listing to this great podcast with Jay Shetty interviewing Madonna now
about losing the 3rd space.. I think you would really enjoy this interview Cheers!! X
Colin, seeing the evolution, the trial and error, the experiments and returns is invaluable. Thank you for sharing. This kind of thoughtful retrospection is a thousand times more valuable than a single perfect editorial spread. ~ Mary Jo
so pretty
Sooo beautiful ☺️
Where do you usually research those furniture pieces?
Mostly through books, gallerists, and leaning on a community I’m so lucky to have cultivated. There’s nothing like a good library stack, a late-night catalog rabbit hole, or a dealer who sends you something they know you’ll love before you even know you need it.
Research for me has always been less about the “hunt” and more about the people and references I get to return to again and again. I’m very grateful for that web of voices and eyes I can lean on.
Most perfect rooms age badly… That hit the spot. I’ve noticed myself saying - ugh it’s to perfect. Or when photographing spaces, out loud in front of clients I’ll say out loud, “I need something ugly!” Quickly adding that piece to the perfect space and getting a calm reaction and fulfillment from everyone involved in the shoot after seeing why it works. Time is the best stylist, every shoot I ask the Architect or Designer to have the client leave their accessories/art and pieces they have collected over the years. Sometimes it’s their pieces that steal the show, and not the perfectly organized and curated items I bring to set. Thanks for the insight! 👌🏼
Such a beautiful piece, totally agree 🥹
I really appreciate this reminder. Sometimes it can feel like you’re expected to have everything perfectly layered from trips and life experiences, but they simply haven’t happened yet and that’s kind of exciting.
Could not love this more. 🤍
The chairs from Jan 2024 on the dining table 🫶🏽
Such interesting thoughts here - ‘time is the best stylist’ is just so true. Thank you
This is SO on point! I’ve been sleeping on the mattress alone in an empty bedroom for more than a year because we wanted my fiancée to make the bed. The wait was so worth it! And it’s only now that I slowly add all the little things that make it my little oasis. And it’s only now, after 2 years, that I know what I need there.
Looking back on those now, do you have a favourite? The progression of the room was so interesting to see! Especially the sofa and coffee table changes.