What I like about white the best is the visual simplicity rendered by the illusion that I am surrounded by space rather than walls and objects.
In my world, white is best mixed with natural elements that have their own non-color color, like wood, leather, steel, fur, jute, plants, etc. All in a non-fussy, low-maintenance, I don't know, neither cluttered nor museum-perfection manner. Kind of just letting them mix the way they want to mix.
Besides their aesthetics, my favorite quality of imperfect, distressed furniture (as well as imperfect walls and floors) is that accidental scratches and marks don't ruin them. Like good jeans, the more wear the better.
(Dining room pictures ending here, moving over to the living room)
My hands down favorite element of the living area is the water view (which I managed not to capture) and the amount of light coming in.
(As a side note: a rather common question female visitors tend to point at me is whether it's a nightmare to keep white furniture clean. Funny how guys never ask that. I know it sounds counter-intuitive, but the answer is no, as long as the upholstery is removable and washable, which I think any upholstery, white or not, should be anyway. The same goes for white sheets and towels, so much easier to add bleach to the wash to get rid of the occasional mascara-stain than it would be with any other color. That being said, whatever the color, an extra set of the removable upholstery purchased from the manufacturer is of course common sense. Guess my only advice is if you have to bleach, which most of the time I don't, then make sure all pieces are in the same wash to avoid getting one of them a slightly different shade of white.)
Don't have more living area photos, there's really just a fire place, a TV and a few windows missing. Moving over to the powder room next.
Not much to show here.
(The fern needs a trim, I know.)
OK, this post is getting way longer than foreseen, so I'll leave the remaining areas (kitchen, entrance and patio downstairs, then my bedroom, bathroom, balcony, tiny guest bed & bath, my office and some open landing areas upstairs) for another time.
(If anyone is even interested that is. In essence it's really just more rooms of the same style).
I love working for long hours, with my phone turned off, the windows open and music playing.
But there inevitably comes a point, especially when working on the same piece for several days when I have to take a break, regardless of how close I am to being done. Step away from my world and do nothing for a few hours but disappear into real conversations with real people, in the real world. I can last for several days submerged in work, day in and day out before the need for a break manifests itself, but when it does I know better than not to yield to it.
(For my old age I've morphed into such a sunscreen freak. I couldn't care less about wrinkles, in fact I love them, but for some reason I just find it next to impossible to 'embrace' sun damaged skin. Yes, vanity at its finest... whatever happened to those good old days at summer camp when no sunspot, no unwanted body hair, and no stupid vanity concern had the power of getting in the way of fun?)
Then when I return to work with a fresh pair of eyes, it's so easy to put the finishing touches on. An hour or two and I am done.
A few years ago I stumbled upon a website about various artist's daily routines. I am not sure why it fascinated me as much as it did, but it had such an effect on me. As did Steven Pressfield's account of his writing schedule and discipline. Work routines are just so endlessly interesting to me.
Doing art is a lonely business in a sense (I imagine writing and making music must be the same?) in that only I can see the piece I'm working on, it's in my head and nowhere else. I've created it, in my mind, I authored its existence and now it's making me feel accountable for delivering it. I can always see the piece in my head, but since I am the only one who sees it, it can only be created by me alone. And that is the lonely part of it. It's not a sad type of loneliness. In fact I love the routine and this strong sense of self-discipline connected to it. And when I am done, there is this certain feeling of disconnection when the piece claims its own life and it no longer needs me or my head to live in. It's a bit hard to put this in words.
What is your work routine? Is it the same every day or does it depend on your work load?
Also, if you're musician, a writer, painter, photographer or any kind of visual artist (or any profession really) what do you do to keep yourself inspired?