Good bones.  Paris apartments have them in spades.  The classic herringbone wood floors, the floor to ceiling windows, architectural moldings galore.  These elements allow designers to add mid-century modern lighting and furnishings in perfect harmony.  You’ll find a Louis XVI Commode in all its marble topped glory sharing space with an Alto Chair.  A flee market find snuggled next to reams of silk strung from the ceiling and puddling elegantly on the floor.  Pourquoi pas?

It is not uncommon for a Paris apartment to be painted all white or nearly all white.  A spectrum of grays accented with gold and cream vie for center stage in grand salons.  Neutral palettes work well when there is an abundance of architectural detail to grab your attention.  Parisians appear to have a particular talent for blending new and old – renovations leave something of the original – a worn floor, juxtaposed against perfectly plastered, paneled, and painted walls.  An old steam heater atop a gleaming wood floor.  These contrasts add interest, and tell a story of the history of the place.

Mixing centuries with ease is a Parisian Hallmark.

One day I will have my very own version of a Paris Apartment in Boston.  I long for those herringbone floors, for Hopes doors that lead out to my Juliet Balcony, for moldings and scrolls, and gilded details that are elegant without seaming pretentious.  Until then, I tuck in a detail here and there, an ode to the City of Lights.  Chipped and worn, their imperfections please me.  I am happy to adopt them and give them new life.

Jean Louis Denoit . Custom Wall Paper, Hammered Silver cabinets and Stillovo Lighting….Sublime.

Millwork, paneling, herringbone floors against a neutral palette.

Ah Paris, my perfect city.

Merry Christmas.

It’s such a powerfully visceral emotion.  It gets you in your gut.  It’s true that often the absence of something from one’s life brings an acute awareness of that which we are retrospectively grateful.  I remember my sophomore year in college when my Father was hospitalized and there was no money to send.  I went hungry more often than I ate, and was grateful for my waitressing job and manager Jeannie who would feed me the Plat Du Jour, because she knew it would be the last meal I had until my next shift.  The winter I went without heat when it dropped below 20 degrees for weeks on end, renovation projects that deprived me of running water, a stove to cook on, walls that kept out the wind, and the rain, and the elements.  These experiences shape my gratitude.  Is it strange when the heat starts up and a whirr of warm wind blows by my toes that I am reminded that central heat is a modern wonder?  That I am filled with a sense of calm and happiness when I smell salt air, that I am thankful for the stranger that shows me a kindness in a foreign country when I am lost?

For all the trials and tribulations that my moves, and renovations cause.  The flips and my flipping out, allow me to live in the moment in a way I can’t imagine achieving otherwise.

As we near the end of the year, as I back out the construction schedule and evaluate the final four – if the only stakes that were at hand were the teams that ran up and down the court I would rest easy, but my final four, are weeks, and the barriers that that exist in the achievement of my critical path.

This is familiar.  I am grateful for that.  I appreciate all the kindness that the folks at The Ink Block have shown me.  They have softened my heart, which had been hardened from too many patchy repairs, they have given me the gift of an easy existence, a door held, a package delivered, a truck filled, a smile, a hand, recognition.  I almost forgot that I was in a city.  I learned to accept help again.  They have prepared me for what will certainly be a dusty entry into my new home.  They have lifted the weight, and as a result, I will be able to take on more.

For those of you who follow me, you know I love Winnie the Pooh, and Piglet too.  A. A. Milne wrote:  “Piglet noticed, that even though he had a very small heart, it could hold a rather large amount of gratitude.”  I am grateful to have this opportunity to forge ahead with number 4!

Happy Christmas Eve….Happy Hanukkah.

Throwing a holiday party is a lot like a construction project.  There are regrettably untold numbers of people who will lecture you on the impossibility of making your vision a reality.  They’ll talk logistics, timing, cost, practicality.  They’ll make a valiant effort to convince you to move in a direction with which they are familiar, for that which has been tested, for the “safe” path.

Just like in construction, if you choose to listen to these naysayers you might get a “nice” project or party, but it won’t be extraordinary.  Even the monumental mistakes and disasters that come from trying something new can be great.  Imagination and vision should be encouraged and exercised, not beaten into submission.

Each year, my company throws an over-the-top, and magnificent holiday extravaganza.  And when I say my company, I mean my boss, and the President, Lisa Wexler.  Her imagination knows no bounds.  The theme is kept under a shroud of secrecy until the big reveal the first Saturday in December.

This year’s theme was Mardi Gras and it was magical.  Cheers Lisa to fighting convention.  It’s amazing what one can do when they say “yes” instead of “no”.