finding solace in chinoiserie
the slow road to rebuilding a life, one room at a time
The morning the Palisades fire ignited on the hillside in late January, when it still felt like just another Tuesday, I pressed send on a post about the necessity for a room of one’s own. In it, I described my cloffice, a closet/office that, against all odds, had become my little sanctuary.
I had found a swirly murano chandelier at the Paris flea, which I paired with a dark burl wood vanity that doubled as a desk. In one section of the closet, I housed my vintage collection, full of brocades and patterned silks that I had scrounged from thrift stores and vintage shows. I liked to have them visible from where I worked, so I could look over when I needed a bit of inspiration.
I’m not typically a Freud fan, but I do agree with this quote: Love and work….work and love, that's all there is. The cloffice became the epicenter of both. I dreamt up some of my best cre…