I have officially been inducted into hell week of 2009; I have multiple crews working out, with plans, drawings and instructions required in advance. I rely so much on my digital pictures from the previous year, my digital images of spaces soon to have landscapes. But mostly everything falls to me. My judgment. In plain speak, frantic. I have piles of paper with drawings, diagrams, and plant lists. My desk is littered 6 layers deep with what I need to handle today. My inbox gets 60 emails a day. Buck just asked me-how many more minutes do you need before we can have dinner-35, I tell him. This puts dinner at 8:20-lights out at 10, as I need to be up at 5am. Rigorous, yes. This time of year, I have plant dreams-hilarious. This is the time during my year I so much appreciate those cooly contemporary landscapes; I have made lots of them.
There is no sign of distress here. OK, plenty of angst, but there is no squirming, or doubt in evidence. Cool white walls. Columnar trees that have it all together. Black/green and white, and any variation on white is the scheme. A scheme with no gray. These columnar beech, in the ground some 8 years, are so quietly beautiful. Their age is apparent. They have had expert and thoughful care. They lower my heart rate, instantly. Grass, gravel, beech, stone-add one simple and contemporary pot-this composition pleases my client.
She is a very private person at home-having a very public life. I understand what she was after from her landscape. I designed this for her. I take great pleasure in how this reflects her point of view. Sometimes I visit this, when I know I need to restore some balance. The point of this post; all of us exchange stories about who we are. This exchange creates electricity in a way Thomas Edison never envisioned.