Texas Farmhouse by Eleanor Cummings & Reflections Right Where I Am Now

Why return to an inspiring project in Winedale, near Round Top, Texas? This European country modern French Texas farmhouse lingers in my imagination. So much to admire about an effortless, authentic, natural, synthesis of Old World and modern. It’s a shame we have to reduce the identity of absolutely everything created to a few descriptive words. It seems today all must fit within: the grid, soundbites, keywords, and clever hashtags. It has become so utterly *y a w n* contrived and unimaginatively packaged for marketing. Unlike the thoughtful, soulful, sophisticated, timeless work of deigners such as Eleanor Cummings.

Modern French Inspired Texas Farmhouse by Eleanor Commings

Photos: via Eleanor Cummings; Architecture: Murphy Mears; Source: MILIEU

Modern Farmhouse (But Not THAT Modern Farmhouse)

One of the elements catching my eye straight away was the fact the farmhouse was sited on a piece of land which looks very much like my own home in Northern Illinois. No mountains or beautiful rocky coastline, yet a sense of spaciousness and big sky, held by expanses of blue and green.

The soft palette inside reflects faded, timeworn, sunbleached natural tones to which I am ever drawn. Wood tones are light and raw. Floors and accents are greyed. In spite of this being a new build, you can feel a passage of time and character.

Humble moments designed for rest, contemplation, quiet, and memory making are also present throughout. It is as if the designer at the helm understands how much is just enough. Where the unnecessary would spoil the mix.

Texas Farmhouse Timeless Kitchen

Oh this Texas farmhouse kitchen! Where to even begin the accolades? It feels utterly comforting, collected, purposeful, and timeless. Even if the space would accommodate a larger island…why sacrifice years of intimacy, shoulder rubbing, and daily ease made possible with the selection here? Also, I often hear complaints muttered about open shelving and the associated extra dusting required. But who could complain about the small collections of dishware and serveware here? It hardly seems overwhelming even if you were away for a week or two, to load the dishwasher or give them a bubble bath in the beautiful farm sink with bucolic view.

You get a sense of “enoughness” from these glimpses inside the rustically elegant country home. No fancy built-ins with bespoke cabinetry and fancy polished hardware for essentials. It is all within hands reach, and quiet can live large and free here. If you live in a home with lots of clunky doors and hard surfaces, maybe you see what I’m getting at.

There are ways to design for calm that will reward your nervous system daily. I think it is why this house continues to be a touchstone for me. How do we create surroundings and retreats for our families that align with the emotional milieu we’re after?

Rustic Antiques in Modern Rooms

I’m ever intrigued by antique dining tables that are narrow as this orchard table is. Who decides the proper distance between friends and family who break bread? Isn’t it a lovely thought that rather than modify an antique or reject its proportions, we could go with it? We could explore the possibility of loving how its scale may encourage connection and warmth?

I know not everyone finds it stimulating to think such deep thoughts about interiors. Especially in the world of design (if conversations with design-freaky folks is any indication). More often, I run into interest for discussions of provenance, preoccupation with rarity and value, and detached or arrogant stirrings about aesthetics and identity. At this stage of my spirit’s journey, I’m curious about subtle energies flowing between objects, materials, art, collections, and inhabitants. I’m curious about synthesis and new energies created from an eclectic mix.

Just imagine the coolness of these concrete floors. I would draw so much comfort and peace sweeping such a smooth surface free of grout, grooves, and fuss.

I’m also smitten by the ceiling height and these lovely interior wood shutters, by the cremone bolts on French doors welcoming so much natural light.

Pared Down Decorations and Trims

We’re DIYers here, and when I direct my beloved to images like the one below and remark how much I love the absence of trim, the energy drains from him! So so so much extra finishing work and time to achieve this look successfully. But aren’t we inspired when a few souls choose to assume the expense and build these bespoke designs with authenticity?

Psst. The Texas farmhouse above is the designer’s own getaway, and she designs elegant spaces such as this unforgettable bedroom in 2020:

Contemplative Reflections Stirring My Soul

I know so little. Life around my village, my region, and the globe grow more and more complex. Even though I know we’re evolving as a species and nothing new is really new at all, it’s confusing and strange to be here.

Staying grounded in the present feels so countercultural, and some of us don’t see the fruit or encouragement to ground. I personally catch myself running from the “here” often in favor of my mind where new horizons blossom. Living in places of “someday” keeps me from embodied presence now.

More embodied living looks like stepping away from screens. It’s why I pull weeds and meditate on trees and strike my piano’s black keys. It’s why I write music to express deep longings of my soul.

This summer I have been reading lots of Thich Nhat Hanh who compares anger and rage to a crying infant relying on us to arrive with love and comfort. We prefer the more convenient response…repression or numbing the pain temporarily. Touching the hurt places with love and acceptance is what true healing looks like.

Personal Spiritual Journeying

In recent months, I have wrestled with ideas about satisfaction. What does it even mean to be satisfied after we identify core desires and callings? How is it different from happiness? Why is it so elusive? A rich dialogue between mind, body, and soul ensues as you open to such depths! While I started out a bit curious, layers upon layers of mystery, unlearning, and new questions were in store.

While I’m not sure much of this will resonate at all with anyone, these reflections arise right where I am… a suburban emptynester modern mystic whose spiritual container of Christianity grows evermore cosmic-sized. If you call God something like Love or Truth or Source or Center or Mystery or something different or nothing at all, I don’t shrink, harden or grow bitter. But if you claim to know everything, if you think dualistically and have quick answers for the ineffable, if you rarely weep in the presence of suffering, beauty, or wonder, then I have to work harder to hear your opinions, to not stiffen, and to feel safe.

Coming Home to Solitude

These days, I feel as though I have a fair amount of fans. Love your style! Beautiful articulation of how I feel too! You still look good! (Can we agree to stop saying “still” to people who don’t look 40?)

The internet (and even publishing before social media was huge) makes a fan base possible for nearly anyone. But my introversion is high, and the number of true friends in my life is relatively low. Fans know a caricature of sweet little snapshots of me shared across time. Friends know where my heart is and how it breaks often. This juxtaposition feels odd.

There are seasons I seek new connections and enter new communities vulnerably. And I must confess, these can be the loneliest seasons of all. Exhausting too. I just need my friends to move with me to a farm where we grow organic crops alongside babydoll sheep with heart-shaped noses. 🙂

Right where I am, I want to share beauty creatively, poetically, and prayerfully in ways that honor who I am. My bio this very moment would read something like:

Fresh-from-the-cocoon butterfly, learning to operate her wings and trust them when winds blow. Still blessed with caterpillar-essence, ensuring flights are wobbly and awkward. Though no longer inching along, she is grateful for an insatiable appetite for growing and shedding what no longer fits.

Peace to you right where you are.

-michele

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