It's no secret that I'm a sucker for all things beautiful: beautiful objects, rooms, homes, places, spaces, people. I'm the queen of judging a book by its cover (and I often do buy books for the cover alone.) Much to my dismay, this does not make me the specialest snowflake in all the land. Every person on the planet can acknowledge and appreciate beauty, however they define it. It's a much rarer talent to be able to describe beauty -- and that is why I love reading. I am constantly stunned by the ability of really great writers to describe a feeling, memory, object or place in a way that captures both what we can see, and what we don't.
A recent Oprah Magazine article by Jim Shepard focused on the art of great writing, aptly titled "Castles in the Mind." The main focus of the article to help writers and non-writers alike recognize that writings is not simply a God-given gift, it takes work, lots of it. Shepard explains,
"The same way when I looked at the Empire State Building, I thought, "What a beautiful building," and not, "Whoa. I bet that was a pain in the butt to build."Of course, the same can be said about interior design, or many other professions. Naturally, being my weird self, one of my favorite things to learn about someone I admire is where they work or live. Whether it's a CEO's office, artist's studio or chef's kitchen I find the the objects, colors and habits of interesting people fascinating. (The Selby is a great resource if you're similarly interested). Take for example, Truman Capote's Hamptons home (as photographed by AD in 1976). While it may not suit everyone's tastes , I love how much Capote's personality shines though. The home manages to be both humble and eccentric, rugged and urbane, impossibly cool and ahead of its time.
Captions below are from AD.
The unpretentious exterior of the flat-roofed, box-shaped studio beach house, surrounded by sun-baked trees, was weathered and timeless.
The two-story living room communicated a mood of oceanside ease tinged with intelligence and humor. Highly personal objects, memorabilia and books—which included copies of his own works in several languages—were placed casually among the simple furnishings.
Capote created a “witchcraft altar,” as he called it, on a small set of steps in the living room. The altar displays an array of accoutrements, including an antique wood cat baring its fangs and arching its back, a bronze bell and a Cocteau-designed needlepoint mask pillow.
Capote’s bedroom was a spartan statement. Miniature wood chests of drawers and a gilt-framed mirror rest on wall ledges above his single iron bedstead. Beside the bed are detective magazines on a card table and a floor lamp for reading before falling asleep.
The living room’s expansive shelving extended to the upper-level gallery, which was reached by way of a steel spiral staircase. The drawing among the books is a pencil portrait of the author. Wicker furniture is beneath windows offering views of the Hamptons landscape.
In a brightly painted and comfortably arranged setting in the living room, the author wrote at this round wicker table. A pack of loose yellow unruled Sphinx paper, some notebooks, a photograph of Capote and his glasses share the space with an open copy of In Cold Blood.