There are certain people in our lives that give freely of themselves, offering their time and talents and advice to anyone in need. It’s a rare treat to know these people, and an even rarer treat to have the pleasure to call one of these people a member of your family.
We’ve been teasing this a bit on Instagram, but we launched the official news right here last week. That’s right – another renovation! (I can’t believe it either.) For those of you who have been following since our HGTV.com show, you’ll know we still had one last space to finish in this home when we
Hi, there! If you’ve been visiting this site for any number of minutes, you’ll likely have read my “official” bio. If not, it’s here. It’s the sizzle reel of my career thus far; the big, celebratory moments awash in glitter remnants and golden trophies. (Actually, there are no trophies. Can I get a trophy?) There
Ever since I began slow blogging two years ago, I’ve noticed a strange trend in my own life; an unexpected shift that seems counter-intuitive to how I’m wired to operate – how our culture is wired to operate. It’s this: The better the moment, the less pull I feel to document it.
Oh my gracious, friends. Last week, I typed this actual sentence in an e-mail to a group of girlfriends: “I am wearing the pants I co-designed and a photographer from the New York Times will be here in three minutes(!!!).” Is that not the craziest thing you’ve read? A far cry from my usual messages,
1. Get down all of your thoughts, as fast as you can. Write in all caps if you have to. Punctuate! Underline. Scribble it on the coffee receipt, the bank statement. Get it down, in as much detail as time allots. Save it. Keep it. 2. Find it a few days later, in the bottom
When The New York Times calls you to ask your opinion about blogging, you answer. You fight the sweaty palms, fearful that you’ll say the wrong thing or your words might be minced or your good intentions to be honest and truthful and mindful might be misconstrued. And then, you state your peace. I stated
Blogging won’t die, because it was never truly alive. The stories, the voices – that’s where the heart beats.