Will miss your Royal Tenenbaums-pink Domino magazine-teal with a splash of Cobalt house, but, only because you were there. It gave me a home at times when I could not find comfort in my own. It was a place an artistic soul could find rest and where the manna of creativity was collected. The garage, an often overlooked room in a house by most ladies, was our little Italy of food, wine and conversation. A place where hurts of a most trench-like depth laid sprawled on our card table alter. It was a place to let go, be heard, hold hearts. Come to think of it, it was like the best church I’ve ever been to. Laughter ruled, silliness encouraged, and love the norm. Here’s to you little house!