[notes from a desert picnic]

Not exactly a grove. The opposite, in fact. Yet an example of a human-scale space created for one evening's picnic in the midst of a 250,000 sq mile desert: The Empty Quarter (Rub' al Khali) on the border of the UAE + Saudi Arabia.

Astronaut aerial photo of the Empty Quarter

The author in a hotel near the sands.

[design tips]
1. Shoes off.
2. Location: nestled between 2 dunes; never place a house or a picnic on top of a ridge. 
3. Space demarcation: 4 tiki torches at the 4 corners of our space.
4. Material change: large blanket, but never make a living space too large. Picnics included.
5. Light. That night was a full moon, and we had tiki torches, but candles with wind covers are a must for any outdoor space.
6. Food. Opt for the highest quality your budget allows. We had just smuggled in Champagne, a nice Bordeaux, some foie gras from France with fresh bread and veggies.
7. Company. Be selective. I politely allowed a 4th to join us whom I didn't like; it put a twist on the evening. Stand firm on the company you keep in your sacred outdoor spaces.


A different desert, different picnic, different time of year. Desert sands after spring rains. 

Rub' Al Khali aerial photo of the dunes 

[notes from a riad courtyard]

My mother taught me a great lesson of solo travel while I was 18 and living alone in Switzerland: find one thing or place that makes you feel at home and in your own skin. Living in Dubai for two long, hot years, I came here to feel grounded and remember what was important to me. Hidden in the old part of the city, this small traditional riad houses contemporary Arab art gallery XVA and a small cafe. Suspended linen panels overhead shaded me from the hot sun, potted citrus trees and thick grasses fed my eyes, and the old thick walls held me tight, away from the clamor of people racing for money and large spaces. 

Linen panels from above

Update: Town & Country Travel and the Guardian UK picked up on XVA a couple years after I left 

(Photo: Guardian UK) 

(Photo: Guardian UK) 

[notes from a stag and a doe]

I love this damn photo. The idyllic images it stirs in memory.German gardens of the Romantic period of the early 1800s: stag awaits in framed pasture. (Prince Hermann Ludwig Heinrich von Pückler and his gardens.) 

Ironically this is in a dodgy post-industrial neighborhood in Livingston, Montana. Taken before an afternoon of painting session of a gorgeous model in my friend's awesome studio loft. While I take credit for designing the house, he single-handily designed and planted the garden (Big Sky Journal article). We are two painters, dreamers, lovers-turned-friends; we often mutter about turning the design world upside-down as a duo. Word out to Hugh Wilson who's on some Pacific island at this moment, likely dancing under thick tropical air after a day of long, hard painting. The deer and his lover, however, are feasting on the perennials as I write. 

(Above) My painting that came out of that afternoon. "Daniella" oil on canvas.

(Below) The studio space, not dolled up as it was for the published shoot. Renovated garage.

Above photo: Audrey Hall

[notes from a date palm grove, oman]

This is the kind of magical place that dates come from. That fruit that has sustained Bedouin and other nomadic desert tribes for millennia. In the midst of the deserts west of Muscat, Oman, I stumbled across this surreal forest, and found relief from the heat and fodder for my imagination. Everyone should dream in a date palm grove one day. Or plant a stand of Phoenix dactylifera in their own California garden. 

[note the stone structures around the base of some trees and the irrigation system]

[notes from an urban wild]

I'm obsessed with urban wilds, and have been for as long as I can remember. I visited one today--the first I ever knew and that which continues to be my favorite--my grandparents' front yard in the heart of Denver. Even on this 100-degree scorcher, we stayed cool.
When we were little, my sister and I would pull Chokecherry and Serviceberry branches aside to discover tree forts within these woods, playing for hours. Only occasionally would the adults be invited into our imaginary world for tea parties. 
A few years ago a lovely Persian driver picked me up from the house, and as I came down the walk I saw him entranced, gazing into the canopy of Black Oak, Red Maple, and Ohio Buckeye trees. It took him a few seconds to regain his wits, clearly lost in memories of the gardens of his past. In the car he told me, as if breathing for the first time, that this was the most beautiful garden he had seen in all of Denver.

[design tips]

There are important yet subtle differences between a welcoming urban wild and one that's uninviting, or unkempt. This garden is successful for several reasons including its: 

1. Edge condition: densely planted with a range of vertical sizes; ground cover and mid-size shrubs to large trees which provide privacy and screening from the street.

2. Interior condition: more porous/airy with only a few trees, giving a sense of space and lightness from within. Shade-tolerant evergreen ground cover gives a well-kempt look.

3. Path: a critical component to any urban wild; this one winds and is of rough-cut stone.

4. Interior fence: 8' away from the house, this provides another layer of screening from the road, separates house from forest, and introduces the house with the same material.

5. Lighting: simple, discreet lights line the path for a greater sense of security at night.

[good for the environment]

1. Habitat: mixed-layer vegetation (ground cover, shrubs, and trees) for animals and birds.

2. Clean air: trees serve a vital role in purifying the polluted air of urban environments.

3. Temperature: trees are critical to cooling our cities and reducing our houses' cooling bills. In cold winter climates, use deciduous trees that allow winter sunlight.

4. Storm water management: plants and non-compacted soil absorb rainwater, reducing the volume in street drains and rivers that increase flooding and water pollution.

5. Nice places to live: Studies consistently show that people are happier and healthier with more trees around their homes. Plus they're good for property values.

[notes from dinner with 5 autonomous artists]

To witness a warm evening's turn to the heavy darkness of midnight on an extra wide porch with local food + white wine with the company of old friends--5 artists--is heaven. They'd just finished a photo shoot, so the hand-planed table was laden with a huge bouquet of aspen branches, another of wild flowers and grasses, and little wood blocks with holes for skinny candles. Matching chairs, fancy flowers, or perfect table settings rarely matter. The whimsical objects on the table, colorful food, and uninterrupted conversation made our table the centerpiece of the entire space.

The 5 artists: 
(1 + 2, our hosts + recent MT residents from all over the world, most recently, NYC:)

1. Molly May: non-fiction writer + author of highly-recommended blog, Placestory
2. Christopher Kautz: wood artist--CQK Studio--with functional art that blows my mind
3. Alexander May: stylist + multi-media artist from NYC with recent shows at Ford Project, the Berlin Bienniale, and studio visit from MoMa PS1. 
4. Susan Burrows Dabney: contemporary landscape painter who paints the energy of the land
5. Eliza Dabney: an artist of life and communications director at jewelry start-up Boticca in London.


More pictures of their work to come. 

[notes from camp on little bear creek]

Last summer I lived under a cottonwood grove in a 10'x18' canvas wall tent with my boyfriend, a few mice, some bugs, and occasional guests. Yes, we had a real bed with nice linen, and I promise I've never slept better in my entire life. Sounds of the creek out the tent flaps and cottonwood leaves clattering on windy evenings after candle-lit dinners and a couple beers-in-cans or glasses of white wine coaxed us to sleep under a heavy duvet. My grandmother's zebra skin covered the canvas floor in the kitchen space. My favorite folding table and bench from India hosted many brainstorm sessions and meals with friends. My only regret: bringing electricity in to power our computers halfway through July. 

further reading]


Peter Beard's The Adventures and Misadventures of Peter Beard in Africa or any of his other books. He always kept the best camps while in Kenya. Never prissy, always functional, yet colorful enough to entertain dignitaries and convicts.


Safari Living (although this is quite a bit fancier, still fun to see for ideas)

[notes from camp at the mailliard ranch]

Really, what else do you need? After a day of exploring on the ranch, you cross a hand-built foot bridge into Page's camp and are met with a cocktail from the stocked bar, kisses from other guests, and a seat at the large table made with thick bevel-edged boards planed from trees on the property. It's impossible not to leave the busy world behind here. An evening without electricity and cell service, the dense woods are lit bright by 12 gas lanterns strung throughout camp, small candles, the laughter of good friends, and sleep under redwood giants. I brought my own sleeping bag, amazing Fabriano watercolor block, and watercolors instead of oils (easier to pack in).

Open-air kitchen built of and among redwoods.

[Side note: having just finished work on Wes Anderson's newest film set--Moonrise Kingdom--I know he would have killed to have had access to this ranch for filming. A clearing just large enough is home to hundred-foot long tables, log seats, a stage, a dance floor, and plenty of room for tents.  Perfect for soirees of a few hundred of your closest friends. Check out the film when it comes out next year and you'll see what I mean.]