Hello hello hello! Welcome to today’s Word and a Thing…with a twist. I recently procured my first Facebook Marketplace piece since moving to Michigan last January. She is beautiful and I had to share. When I sat down to write this post, the pun party filled my brain and I couldn’t resist. While not quite a pun, I happened upon some wordplay that I believe to be in the same family….so, with that…welcome to A Burl and a Thing!

I’ve been living in Michigan for about eight months, settling in the house. There is still lots to do, but I am trying to take my time, room by room. When I first arrived here, in the dead of winter, I started exploring Facebook Marketplace. I was overwhelmed by the breadth of incredible options - and knew this was just the tip of the iceberg, as estate sales are allegedly incredible as well. But it was too cold and too chaotic to explore at that time. Fast forward to today. After many nights spent perusing the listings, the Facebook Marketplace Gods finally blessed me with a piece only five minutes from my house:. Allow me to introduce you to my 19th-century French burl drop desk. She is beauty, she is grace, she is Burl.

She needs a little tender love and care around the hinges, but that is a simple fix. There are so many drawers, beautifully lined in sage-colored linen paper, waiting to be filled with all my random Etsy, eBay, and other flea market knickknacks. Greens in all the shades, have become my favorite color, especially in the home- so you can imagine the delight I feel when I open up my Burled Beauty and see all her green glory.

This joy, this delight I felt from acquiring one piece opened the proverbial floodgates. And so- on I went to my first estate sale. I hadn’t planned on this outing, but a few days after Mr. Burl, while scrolling Instagram as one does, I stopped on my internet friend Vanessa- aka The Grazt Life’s - story. She had posted about her recent estate sale adventure, and so I hopped over from one app to another- Esatesale.net - at 9:55am- typed in my zip code- and lo and behold there was one happening down the street from my house at 10am. I zipped on over, got in line and thus began my first Michigan Estate Sale adventure.

Three things happened that day: #1. I bought more vintage books, a chair, a piece of art, and a set of (green) plates. #2. My character studies went into overdrive. I do feel a bit of a nosy Nancy observing the people just as much as the furniture, but I can’t help it, I’m an observer…by trade! #3. While eavesdropping on a conversation between two women next to me in line who clearly frequent estate sales, I chimed in (hopefully charmingly) to get some intel. I hit it off with one of the women, and we continued conversation inside the house. I learned that she had lived in New York City for years, is a writer, and a fellow lover of the arts and estate sales. She gave me her card, and we now have a future coffee date planned. So #4. I made a new friend.

Now, A Word and a Thing is usually an exercise to get us all out of our heads and onto the page…off screens, into the analog. And while yes, you are currently reading this on a screen, I hope it encourages you to go out and do all the things: explore the physical world - estate sales, stores, parks. Make a friend. Observe. Draw. Find a new hobby. Learn something new.

I am very new to this world of antiquing. I am sure some of you are far more knowledgable and have tips, tricks or notes on what I bought- or what I should buy next. But for now, I am enjoying the hunt, the adventures, and the unknown. I am trusting my eye, trusting my taste, and we’ll see what comes next.

And because this is A Word and a Thing, I’ll leave you with some drawings inspired by my adventures- and a new word I learned along the way:

Trouvaille (noun): a lucky find

A burled desk. A stack of old books. A set of green plates. A new friend. Not a bad week for trouvailles.

As always, thank you for being here. I hope you enjoyed this week’s musings from Michigan. And before I go, since we were on the topic of people watching- my book “Character Study” comes out so soon- September 8th! AND if you happen to be in New York City on October 6th, please join me at the Upper West Side Barnes & Noble, where I’ll be in conversation with the incredible Debbie Millman. RSVP here!

Curiously Yours,
Carly

Please Note! If you’re reading this by email, it may get cut off (too much good stuff to fit!). Just click the title or “read more” at the end and you’ll land somewhere far more comfortable to enjoy the whole thing.

It is officially August, which means fall is around the corner, and for me, my first real one in 16 years. I am beyond excited. I grew up in NYC and, after college, moved to LA, where I spent 12 years, followed by almost five in Miami. But, as you may recall, my family moved to Michigan this past January. So get ready for changing leaves, cider mills, sweater weather... all of it. We’re leaning way in, guys. Hop on board the hayride to Fall.

Moving on... I thought I’d start today by sharing a few recent drawings from my sketchbook. I’m working on my first stationery collection and, oddly enough, I’ve received a surprising number of requests for a correspondence card with a Dachshund (or two... or three) on it.

Side note: I’ve written the word Dachshund so many times now, and for the life of me, I still can’t remember how to spell it. C-H-S-H... how are those letters stitched together like that?!

Nonetheless, a few Dachshunds below.

Other sketches include:

1. A dog wearing glasses, eating a banana while the cat looks on in disbelief.

2. A few simple words that rhyme.

3. A man walking his dog on a rainy day.

4. A man knitting- and, of course, because I apparently need to torture myself, another Dachshund... named Dasher.

The sketches can be somewhat random or the beginnings of a character. (The man in the rain, perhaps?) Maybe for my next... children's book?! We shall see!

LATELY
My book officially comes out in less than six weeks. So... that's happening! I'm also finalizing book signings and tour plans. I'd love to know- what are some of your favorite book events or signings you've attended?

Even though my book is complete, I will continue to sneakily snap a photo of anyone I see worth a character study. Exhibit A & B:

I also just received a stack of strike-offs for my next wallpaper collection, and they are gorgeous. I may be biased, of course, but I think you’ll delight in the patterns and colors too. I love designing wallpaper. My drawings take on a new life once they’re translated into pattern, and I get to experiment with color in a way I don’t necessarily do when an illustration stands on its own. Here’s a little preview:

A WORD AND A THING!

So now, we have arrived at the part where we draw!

Let us start with the word. I was on a hunt for a word that embodied the feelings of Fall…so today’s word is: Petrichor - (noun) the pleasant, earthy smell that accompanies the first rain after a long dry spell.

Now, for the thing. I was deciding between a bird and an umbrella and figured- why not both?

Before I start drawing, I like to gather reference images. Pinterest is always a good place to start, but depending on what I’m looking for- an umbrella, say- I often turn to sites like Etsy, Chairish, or Ebay. For something living, like a bird, I’ll usually Google my way to a more species-specific source, like the American Bird Conservancy. The images tend to be less common, and you learn more about what you’re actually drawing- which, as you know, is always part of my process.

You never know where the next story, drawing, or pattern might come from. Though, fair warning: you may begin this exercise looking for one thing and, before you know it, spend the entire afternoon listening to recordings of wading birds.

So, I landed on the Peruvian Thick-knee - because look at this guy!

While our Thick-knee friend is technically native to South America, we’re using him as our character guide, so he can go wherever we please.

Below, you’ll find what transpired when I set out to draw a Peruvian Thick-knee experiencing petrichor on a damp fall afternoon. Spoiler: the limerick came with a fair bit of frustration, but along the way I discovered a delightful little character named Thomas. And for that, I am grateful.

Let me know if you venture down this loony rabbit hole of an exercise- and if you do, I'd love to see what you discover.

Curiously Yours,

Carly

Please Note! If you're reading this by email, it may get cut off (too much good stuff to fit!). Just click the title or "read more" at the end and you'll land somewhere far more comfortable to enjoy the whole thing.

Have you ever been scrolling TikTok or Instagram, and suddenly stop - not because of a trend or a sound, but because someone captures your attention right away? Your anxiety starts to melt, your brain clicks on, maybe you even smile a little. Well, that’s what happened to me (and almost half a million others) when I first saw our guest today- Alexander Widener - pop up on my discovery page. He sits in a welcoming little spot in his home and inn on the coast of Maine, sharing a brief history of Wedgwood and the world of 18th-century potter Josiah Wedgwood. The content seemed niche, but his personality was inviting to everyone - clearly, since nearly half a million people have watched that first video.

Alexander is not just a one-hit wonder of wisdom... he’s a breath of much-needed fresh air. He quit his design job in NYC last year to open a home store and guest cottage in a coastal Maine town. It’s fair to say he’s living a lot of our dreams. But what makes Alexander special is his vulnerability and honesty. He’s taken us along for the ride - sharing ups and downs, antique finds and antique hilarities (please watch this moment and the follow-up), honest insights into starting a business, and lessons in beautiful worlds like the history of wallpaper, pottery, quilting and much much more. He’s a curious one, like myself - a forever student - and I’m so honored to share more of his world today. So enjoy, put the kettle on, and step into Alexander’s world.

Describe your workspace.

I work out of my shop here in Maine, in a 1785 building surrounded by antiques and beautiful objects (and often a chaos of cardboard boxes, to-do lists, and LL Bean totes stuffed with fresh inventory). I am a nomadic worker, so I’ll shift around, often working on emails in the garden on a pretty day.

What’s always on your desk (or in bag/workspace?)?

I always have a big cup of iced coffee (with vanilla oatmilk) that I sip on throughout the day. I keep a framed photo of my husband on my desk, along with a painting I got from the flea market in Paris and a heavy dose of clutter.

Are you a tidy desk person or more… layered?

Layered is such a nice way of putting it…

Your favorite everyday pen or pencil?

I like to write with a Lamy Safari fountain pen (brown ink only). There’s just something about writing with a fountain pen that makes everything more enjoyable.

Do you keep a notebook or planner? If so, what kind?

I sprawl notes on the back of envelopes and scrap paper. I do like to use the little John Derian notebooks we sell at our shop, but I am always misplacing them.

Do you have any favorite stationery?

I’m a sucker for vintage packs of Crane notecards and envelopes, and I pick them up at the thrift store when I see them. I also love a custom letterpress, cotton paper situation.

Is there a card or note you’ve kept over the years?

When my husband and I first started dating, we wrote lots of letters back and forth, and I’ve kept every one along with all the cards from birthdays or anniversaries, etc. I hope when I’m old, I’ll get to look back at them and remember how much fun we had falling in love.

Coffee or tea?

Iced coffee!! Always.

Is there a ritual or routine to the way you start your day?

I like to get out into the garden to water around 6am, coffee mug in hand. I find that starting the day in the garden sets the tone for the day.

And one for how you end it?

In my fantasy? With a bubble bath and a good back. In reality? Doom scrolling until I can’t keep my eyes open.

Do you listen to anything while you work, or do you prefer silence?

I like to have music on throughout the day, or often, I have TikTok playing and I mindlessly scroll in the background while working on tasks.

If you do listen - what tends to be playing?

I am currently in my “The Chicks” era…

Whose desk would you most like to rummage through?

I’d love to take a peek at Martha’s desk, though I have a feeling rummaging would not be allowed.

A place you’ve traveled to that felt especially creatively inspiring?

The first time I visited Beauport, the former home of decorator Henry Davis Sleeper, in Gloucester MA, my whole world changed. I suddenly saw myself reflected back in a way I had never seen before. Ultimately, I think its this experience that started laying the foundation for me to open the shop and create a world for myself here in Maine.

A favorite shop you’ve discovered while traveling (or locally!)?

I really think Pimlico Road in London has the best shops in the world. I am so inspired every time we visit.

A favorite bookstore?

My local bookshop here in our village is called Fiction. There is no greater place in a small town for people to gather than a local bookstore.

If you could go on a creative retreat anywhere, where would it be - and what would you do there?

It’s long been my dream to visit India. I am particularly interested in seeing the culture of textiles and craft firsthand. So many of my favorite things come from India and I can’t wait to visit someday…

A film you could watch over and over again?

You’ve Got Mail is my favorite movie of all time. The story, the sets, the music– there is nothing better.

Comfort TV show?

Especially on Sunday morning, I love to put on the free Martha Stewart channel on Pluto. It plays a mix of reruns spanning the entirety of her show, from the 90s to today. It is so comforting and wonderful to have on in the background.

A favorite children’s book?

The Boxcar Children

A rabbit hole you’ve gone down recently?

I’ve been researching decorative paint finishes. They kind of fell off in the early 2000s but I am so in love with them and have convinced myself that I can 100% paint strié and faux bois myself. I’ve gotten a half dozen books and have been watching old videos on YouTube. Wish me luck!!

Your favorite object in your home?

I once found a 19th-century Zuber wallpapered screen at an estate sale for $100. It is one of the first things I would grab in a fire.

What do you collect, intentionally or accidentally?

What DON’T I collect? Ceramics, textiles, baskets… the list goes on (and on).

Do you have a favorite accessory?

I never leave the house without a baseball hat.

Is there an accessory you wish you could wear - one you admire on others but aren’t quite sure you can pull off?

I want to, and have tried to be, a sunhat person. Unfortunately, I just can’t find one that looks good on me.

Your favorite place to observe people?

The Flea market. You never know who you’ll see, and I’m fascinated by the fact that everyone is so different yet here we are in the same place, doing the same thing, together.

Favorite snack?

I love a little bowl of plain oyster crackers. Delicious!!

Favorite pasta?

Bronze die cut or homemade only. My favorite is with garlic, olive oil, and summer veggies (which is what I made for dinner last night.)

Favorite dessert?

Tiramisu. You’ll know I’ve made it when I have a tiramisu drawer in my refrigerator.

Favorite flower?

In spring? Tulips. Parrot tulips, especially. In summer, though, I love cow parsley, which grows along the road here in Maine. Most people think of it as a weed, but I love to bring it into the house. It is so beautiful in a big glass vase.

I have a deep love of very specific color naming - and find it quite amusing (“Dead Salmon” by Farrow & Ball). If you could name your favorite color, what would you call it?

In my early career, I had a couple of jobs where coming up with the color names for products landed with me. I think I have a knack for it. If I had to come up with one inspired by my antique flowerpot collection, it would be: Old Crusty Pot.

Do you have a favorite pretentious or whimsical word?

Lately, I’ve been catching myself, as if I were the token gay character on a sitcom, referring to everything good as ‘divine’. The scent of the peonies in my garden? Divine. The slightly brisk temperature of the Maine water on a hot summer day? Divine. The tiniest nibble from a chocolate bar? You guessed it: Divine.

Thank you, Alexander, for indulging my nosiness, and for being a guest on “From the Desk Of…” To learn more about Alexander’s cottage and inn- visit Widener Company or indulge in his beautiful world on Instagram and TikTok.

If you enjoyed this, consider sharing it with someone who still writes letters, keeps too many books, or has a desk with far too many notebooks. More desks, more objects, more people worth meeting…coming soon.

Curiously Yours,
Carly

Welcome to the official kickoff of Sundays with A Word and a Thing. Some of you have been doing this alongside me for a year now: the not-quite-an-artist-prompt, kinda-sorta-artist-prompt exercise of the same name. But after last week’s ramblings on notebooking, I’ve been rethinking the shape of things around here, and I’ve landed on this: Sundays are now officially A Word and a Thing… sometimes the exercise itself, sometimes just whatever’s rattling around my creative brain that week. So. Welcome. Let us begin.

LATELY
I did my very first Instagram challenge this week - something similar to what I hope A Word and a Thing becomes here: a nudge out of my own world of characters and into someone else’s. This one sent me into bugs, books, butterflies, and beyond (challenges by ). The result: delightful, relaxing, and a genuinely good excuse to dig out colored pencils I hadn’t touched in ages - which happened to be lying around my parents’ house, where I’m currently camped out with the kids for part of the summer. Colorful little creatures filled the notebook. It was glorious.

I’m also finishing up my first children’s book as illustrator - one that came to me with the writer attached, from my agency, nearly two years ago. It’s been my biggest challenge yet, in the best possible way, and I’m finally in the final stretch of edits. I hadn’t illustrated a children’s book before this one, and it’s been all the things. Bonus effect: my vintage book collection has roughly doubled since it started, most recently with a very happy package from the new little bookshop Spiral Books in NYC.

Meanwhile - because apparently one project at a time was never going to be my style - I’m close, very close, to launching my first stationery collection: folded cards, correspondence cards, the thing so many of you have been asking me for over the years. Alongside it, a few new wallpaper patterns are on the way - here is my current collection if you’re intrigued- which will also show up as the liners inside the stationery. The stationery, the wallpaper, the character…I like to say they’re all in conversation with each other.

And most exciting of all: my book comes out in under two months (Sept 8th, 2026 to be exact! pre-order available!) and I’m locking in the final tour details. So be on the lookout for that…I know at least one or two NYC events will be happening this fall.

It’s a lot, but I like my plate to be full…actually, forget the plate, I’m a bowl person. I don’t keep things in their own neat little sections; everything touches everything else, and somehow I think it still works.

Last thing: editing/illustrating some wonderful interviews for From the Desk Of.., so stay tuned for those.

Okay, putting the bowl aside, let’s get back to the prompty-prompt-not-a-prompt.

A WORD AND A THING!
Quick reminder for anyone new to the actual exercise: pick a word, write it out with its definition, draw a thing alongside it - related or not. The page stops being blank the second there’s a word on it, and the rest tends to take on a life of its own.

This week, my word came from reading about poet and wordsmith Ogden Nash. In this one single article, I was presented with a slathering of delicious words: Pomposities! Peripatetic! Syllabification! Warblings! - and I was equally as impressed by Nash as I was by whoever wrote the piece (I tried to look it up but Poet Foundation did not give me such information.)

My words notebook isn’t just for words I am unfamiliar with - it’s for phrases that grab my attention as well. This one, from the same article, is a favorite: William Soskin, speaking at Nash’s funeral, called his verses “a compendium of bitter insanity, wry foolishness and considerably inspired lunacy.” What a line.

Nash was also known for his particular gift of simply making up words when the rhyme demanded it - never more delightfully than in “Arthur,” from Many Long Years Ago:

There was an old man of Calcutta,
Who coated his tonsils with butta,
Thus converting his snore
From a thunderous roar
To a soft, oleaginous mutta.

And so, inspired by Nash and his buttaaa- I set forth on choosing my word, and landed on pomposity.

Below, I share with you my notebook train of thought - that started with Mr. Nash and ended, somehow, with a rooster named Rooster trying to impress a hen named Hen. I hope you enjoy!

Let me know if you partake in this loony rabbit hole of an exercise and if so, please share! And as always, thank you for being here.

Curiously Yours,
Carly

I went into my Notes app the other day looking for a specific word.

I knew I’d saved it. Something I’d heard or read and liked enough to stop and type in. I scrolled. And scrolled. Past a four item grocery list. Past a name - “Rupert??” - typed at what I can only assume was 2am, no context, no memory of who Rupert is or was. Past a note that just said “Burgundy,” no explanation - could be a color, a wine, a duke, a dog I met once. I genuinely cannot tell you. Past a dozen half-sentences that were clearly the start of something - a story idea, an observation. Past old and new electric, water, and gas passwords. More scrolling. And then just... stopped.

I never found the word. I found 260 other notes instead.

The Notes app is a perfect capture device and a terrible library - built for the moment you have the thought, not the moment you go looking for one. Turns out that’s a real problem. I’d fallen down a rabbit hole of artist studio tours right before all this, the kind where someone walks you through their space and shows you how their brain is organized in physical form. In one, there was a shelf of notebooks - not one journal, several, each dedicated to something specific. The person pulled one out and flipped through it looking for an idea the way you’d flip through a cookbook deciding what to make for dinner. That’s the part that stuck. You don’t land on things by accident on a phone. You search - and searching is fundamentally different from browsing. The same reason flipping through an art book does something a Pinterest scroll doesn’t, even when the images are technically the same.

Now, I have a lot of notebooks. It’s one of the perks of being a professional illustrator: people gift you sketchbooks, beautiful blank journals, the occasional museum-gift-shop-“I saw this and thought of you”-notebook. And of course, because yes, I do really love them - I usually buy at least one when I travel. But I’ve become extremely particular about which ones I’ll actually use…the paper has to feel a certain way, the size has to be right for the pocket or the bag or the nightstand - and a not-insignificant number of beautiful notebooks have sat untouched for years because they didn’t pass that test.

So the actual problem was never supply. It was that I had no system for deciding what went where, so everything defaulted to my phone.

Naturally, I did what I always do when I like an idea: I overbuilt it. Six notebooks, each with its own name and its own very specific job. A place for words. A place for story ideas. A place for the things my kids say. A place for cultural homework. A place for observations. A catchall for everything that didn’t have a home yet. It was a beautiful idea on paper, but pretty quickly, I realized it wasn’t going to stick.

I’ve noticed this has become a pattern for me, but rather than treat it as a failure, I’ve started treating it as part of the practice: I set out to build one very specific thing with very specific rules, and it morphs into something I couldn’t quite anticipate. What I actually figured out is that it was never about the six categories. It’s about pen to paper. Something happens when I write or draw that doesn’t happen when I type on a phone or computer. Now, I’m not saying I’m trying to go full analog… I need the phone to capture any 2am “epiphany.” Then, later, I put it down on paper and see what else comes of it…if anything.

As it turns out, I’d already lived this exact lesson once before, I just hadn’t connected the two. Close to when I first launched this Substack, I started a little exercise called A Word and a Thing - I laid out some rules, or guidelines, really, for how it was supposed to work. But the more I actually did it, week after week, the more it stopped feeling like a traditional artist/writing prompt and started feeling like something else entirely: a creative practice. The rules were never really the point.

Once I stopped trying to manage the notebooks so precisely, what I was doing was closer to cleaning out a junk drawer. Every few months you pull everything out, look at what’s inside, and decide what’s worth keeping. So, I sat down with the Notes app and a notebook and just started going through it - writing out, by hand, the things worth writing out. Not filing them into six labeled homes. Just getting them off the screen and onto a page. Some of them turned into more than what they started as. Not because of a system- just because I was finally looking long enough.

A word, and a thing. I’d been running this exercise for months before I noticed I’d been doing the same thing with my own notes the whole time: pulling something out of the fog, putting a pen to it, seeing what it turns into. Not a bit I do once a week. Just how I process anything.

Which brings me to what’s next. My book is done- soon to be out in the world. I’m settled (enough) into Michigan. And I’ve been circling what comes after both of those things - not a five-year plan, more like: what do I actually want to be doing on a regular basis. The one thing I landed on with real clarity is that I want to keep showing you how my creative brain works. Some of that will be process. Some of it will just be drawings. Sundays, are most likely where you’ll find A Word and a Thing, once or twice a month, alongside From the Desk Of… my illustrated interview series exploring the desks and minds of other creatives I admire.

Which is exactly what sent me down this notebook rabbit hole in the first place: wanting to see how someone else's mind was organized, then immediately reorganizing my own. As for the notebooks, the six-notebook system didn't last. I gave it a few weeks, noticed three sat untouched, and consolidated. What's left, for now, is a sketchbook, a words-and-phrases notebook, and an unlined journal - sketching and writing on the same page, whichever comes first. Basically what this column has been the whole time.

So keep an eye out for the official return of A Word and a Thing on Sunday mornings, starting soon. And, as always, thank you for being here.

Curiously Yours,

Carly

I wrote and illustrated a book! It officially comes out September 8, 2026, and is now available for pre-order. Those are some crazy words to type.

What’s even crazier is that this all started almost six years ago - pre-Miami, pre-Michigan, pre-kids - while I was living in Los Angeles. I was connected to my book agent (hi Sarah!) through a mutual friend. We met at Platform in Culver City and chatted about my dream of one day creating a book. She also introduced me to the works of Maira Kalman, and my world expanded. I didn’t know there was a category of books like this - illustrated, for the curious adult, or the old-soul child. So over the course of these past six years, I hemmed and hawed, scribbled and scrabbled, cried and laughed, attempting to figure out what my book would be. And eventually, I landed on an idea.

Now, the book we pitched was not the book I’m sharing with you today - but I thought it worth pulling back the curtain a little. We pitched, landed with my publisher, and together arrived at “Character Study: Observations from a Very Curious Artist.” This is, of course, a very truncated version of what transpired over these past six years - one I hope to get into more at a later date.

Sharing one’s accomplishments is never…comfortable…or natural. But here we are, and I am so grateful to have you all along for it - to soon have a little bit of my world in your homes, on your desks, shelves... I would be so grateful if you pre-ordered here and shared with your friends, your families, your friends’ families, your neighbors, your neighbors’ neighbors. Your enemies. Whoever. This book is for anyone who is curious, loves people-watching, illustration, fashion illustration - or me. :)

Thank you, and as always…

Curiously Yours, Carly

And please enjoy my unboxing of the book here.

What’s on it. What’s around it. What they keep.

This series - each installment accompanied by a few original illustrations- is an attempt to capture those details: the objects, the habits, and the other telling things that shape a creative life. Think of it as a home visit, but without the awkward part where you have to pretend you weren’t already snooping around. Welcome to “From the Desk Of.”

Today’s guest is Patrick O’Donnell - aka Paddy. Paddy is an interior decoration consultant and global brand ambassador at Farrow & Ball.

I can’t quite remember when I first discovered Paddy, but I believe it was on Instagram - scrolling aimlessly when I was pleasantly stopped in my tracks by the calming, cheeky presence that is Patrick O’Donnell. I don’t remember which colors he was discussing, but whatever they were - and knowing Farrow & Ball, they were beautiful…and I left the scroll equally captivated with the man behind the paint.

Over the years, Paddy has allowed audiences into his home (fortunately for all us aesthetes), and unsurprisingly, it is beautiful - drenched in gorgeous colors, patterns, and layers upon layers of books, bits and bobs. And further lucky for me and many others, Farrow & Ball launched a podcast, The Chromologist, about two years ago, with Paddy as host. Each episode, he invites a creative to walk through their life decade by decade, choosing a color to define each chapter. It’s as lovely as it sounds.

He so graciously indulged my questionnaire below, and I think you'll enjoy it as much as I did. His world is a rabbit hole worth falling down.

Describe your workspace. I’m a remote worker so if not on travels I’m ensconced at home and surrounded by stuff that makes me happy- I have a little room on the first floor (think 2nd floor in US parlance) with a far too large desk and now a rather beautiful French studded leather chair which I recently bought at the brilliant Brownrigg in Tetbury.

What’s always on your desk/workspace? Pots of pens and paint brushes, rather too many notepads, a lamp (of course) and I have a little window ledge that the desk abuts with pelargoniums , glazed ceramics and other joyful items….

What’s currently on rotation on your desk? Is there anything new or unexpected finding its way there lately? It’s a pretty static affair, but I’ve recently been scheming for a private client in Devon so lots of beautiful fabric samples from Tissus d’Helene, Jasper , Schuyler Samperton…

Are you a tidy desk person or more… layered? I would say relatively tidy, until it reaches a point of chaos then I have to have a good clear up/ edit. I have lots of stuff around me but try and keep the desk as a functional space, not an extension of personal ‘clutter’.

Your favorite everyday pen or pencil? I love using fountain pens so have a few Kaweco pens just because each one has a different coloured ink cartridge so I can err on whether it’s a brown ink day, green ink day or classic blue!

Is there a desk accessory you dream of owning? I’m madly happy with everything I have but if something catches my eye, a good desk lamp would be perfect, some of the Bauhaus designs were wonderful.

Do you keep a notebook or planner? If so, what kind? I have a green leather Smythson diary and note book- just not brilliant at keeping diary up to date.

Do you have any favorite stationery? I love Mount Street Printers for notelets and invitations but day to day books tend to marbleized A4 pads from Compton Marbling in Wiltshire.

Is there a card or note you’ve kept over the years? I still have all the silly letters my father used to write to me with his hilarious anecdotes of home life…..

Coffee or tea? Coffee (mostly) but a good cup of lapsang with lemon is tea of choice…

Is there a ritual or routine to the way you start your day? Used to always be the dogs but sadly we lost have lost both of our gorgeous girls in the last 5 months, so now, less structured. Usually up by 6.30, brew coffee with the bialetti and weather permitting, first cup taken en plein aire with the chorus of birdsong.

And one for how you end it? In Spring & Summer, it’s either a glass of pink wine or Botivo with soda water (if I’m being abstemious) and then a potter in the greenhouse or borders to clear the ‘desk/ work’ head.

Do you listen to anything while you work, or do you prefer silence? Depends on tasks at hand, e.g, if it’s a lovely thing to do I’ll have something like Nick Drake playing in the background. If it’s client orders I tend to prefer peace and quite often I have BBC Radio 4 just softly in the background…

When you do listen - what tends to be playing? My music taste is rather eclectic- listen a lot to Michael Kiwanuka, Massive Attic, Rotary Connection, Nick Drake, Kate Bush, Tom Misch, John Martyn, Lambchop, Patrick Watson, Nina Simone……it goes on and on.

Whose desk would you most like to rummage through? Jean Cocteau, can you imagine all those delicious sketches and thoughts or Evelyn Waugh & Nancy Mitford to find something brilliantly indiscreet to giggle over?

A place you’ve traveled to that felt especially creatively inspiring? Always Italy and Morocco, especially Tangier.

A favorite shop you’ve discovered while traveling (or locally!)? A cookshop in Toulouse, gosh, it was good, we bought an absurd amount of canelè moulds, still yet to attempt to make them but they are glorious little copper delights…

A favorite bookstore? Probably John Sandoe just off the Kings Road in London and Daunt Books are brilliant for a small chain.

If you could go on a creative retreat anywhere, where would it be - and what would you do there? Here we go back to Tangier. I went on a painting/drawing holiday there for 5 days run by my friends Gavin Houghton and Joan Hecktermann- huge fun.

A book that changed how you see the world? Not sure if it changed my view of the world but it certainly opened my eyes- John Fowles The Magus was the 1st truly grown up book I first read at 14 and loved, it transported my to mythic lands and bad people (there isn’t one sympathetic character in the book)- I’ve re-read every few years and take something new away from it- it’s a complex post modernist book (of which I understood little of the metaphors and God Games at 14.) The most recent book that blew me away was Claire North’s Wonderful Songs of Penelope trilogy- just utterly exhilarating and beautifully written imagination of Penelope waiting for the return of Odysseus.

A film you could watch over and over again? Trash but not trash as dialogue so brilliantly sparky is Mike Nichols Working Girl- heaven. Booksmart is hilarious too and Love Hitchcock’s Rebecca even though the Joan Fontaine character is madly irritating…

Comfort TV show? This is brand new but totally hooked on Widow’s Bay on Apple- the cast are divine

A favorite children’s book? I Capture the Castle by Dodi Smith

A book you judged by the cover - and bought because of it? Never!!!

Any podcasts you return to regularly? Rarely listen (even though I’m a Podcast Host too) shameless I know…

A rabbit hole you’ve gone down recently? I go down music rabbit holes a lot- if I’m going through a folk phase I’ll scroll through Spotify and find artists I’ve never heard of, had a bluegrass moment recently too.

Your favorite object in your home? Not sure tbh, I only ever buy things but they mainly have an emotional or aesthetic calling- sounds madly pretentious . If I had to call a single object, possibly a 1950’s Ukranian oil painting that hangs on the wall to the left of my desk so I get to see it every day.

Favorite gift you’ve given? I bought my partner Paul a beautiful Dunhill fountain pen for his 50th, which I now use. Win win!

Favorite gift you’ve received? I’m the absolute worst to buy for- everyone thinks I am utter hell so I usually drop hints if I think people may be going off piste.

What do you collect, intentionally or accidentally? Quite a lot of ceramics- my partner Paul was a ceramicist and studied at the RA in London so he is the cause of this crush. I don’t buy a particular type or style but do love early English slipware

Do you have a favorite accessory? I was given a very beautiful brass brooch last year by the madly talented Jess Wheeler- it’s star anise and just lovely-, I tend to wear it in the lapel of a great camel coat.

Is there an accessory you wish you could wear - one you admire on others but aren’t quite sure you can pull off? I can’t wear hats, my head is too big or wrong shape but love the idea of wearing a proper panama in summer.

Is there an outfit you feel most creative in? None in particular but much happier with bare feet- I feel huge freedom without shoes or socks but we all know most feet are ugly, so apologies

Your favorite place to observe people? Not sure I do, consciously anyway?

Favorite snack? Various nuts home roasted with honey, spices and rosemary or Cavolo Nero crisps

Favorite pasta? Beef cheek ragu in winter with rigatoni or Thomas Strakers crab linguine in summer

Favorite dessert? The River Cafe crostata di limone- sharp, lemony bliss

Favorite flower? Depends on the season but at the moment we have vases and jugs full of viburnum opulus (guelder rose) all around the house and Lily of the Valley

If you could host a dinner party anywhere, with anyone, what would it look like? Really simple, you never want the food to take over the occasion, simple is best. It would be outdoors, under a loggia somewhere, plates of charcuterie, grilled mackerel and shellfish, seasonal salads, local cheeses, seasonal flowers simply dressed in old pots and jugs….. Just happy people chewing the fat of life

I have a deep fascination with very specific color naming - a world you are more than familiar with! If you could name your favorite color, what would you call it? I made a paint for Sibyl Colefax a few years ago called Eye Bag Blue, it was a bluey lilac, genius name thanks to Wendy Nicholls.

Speaking of color, and since I love your Podcast - I have to ask: what color feels most defining of your current chapter in life?
Although I haven’t stepped into the world of neutral, I think I’m craving an off white, something like Stony Ground. The world feels so grim at the moment I want calm and whilst plenty of colours can help achieve this, I feel this would be a nice start point and maybe even encourage me to ‘edit’ my life’s possessions and clutter. I was recently looking through the Bill Blass’ sale catalogue and whilst I don’t possess anything of the quality BB had, letting just key pieces really register within their own space feels madly appealing.

Do you have a favorite pretentious or whimsical word? Denouement….

A book that made you laugh a lot? Still Life by Sarah Winman, gorgeous, made me cry a lot too. Love in a Cold Climate by Nancy Mitford always perks me up as does Vile Bodies or Scoop by Evelyn Waugh

Favorite idiom? Never use them ( as he racks his brain to remember!)

What do you do to get out of a creative rut? Gardening- the cure for all malaise and melancholy- nothing like getting the hands dirty and being outdoors- nothing else matters.

Thank you, Paddy, for indulging my nosiness, and for being a guest on “From the Desk Of…”

If you enjoyed this, consider sharing it with someone who still writes letters, keeps too many books, or has a desk with far too many notebooks. More desks, more objects, more people worth meeting…coming soon.

Curiously Yours,

Carly

Hey, hi, hello- and welcome back. Or, if this is your first, welcome to A Word and a Thing.

I haven’t visited this exercise in a few months- a casualty of editorial projects, book deadlines, and our move from Miami to Michigan. But we are here now, and that’s all that matters.

For those unfamiliar, this began as a small creative exercise I made for myself when I first launched The Cartelier- a tool to get out of one’s head and onto the page. Maybe learn a new word. Draw something. See what happens. There are no real rules, which is precisely why it works.

It has also become something else: a way of thinking- a method, really, for following a thought as far as it will go.

Because I am, it seems, on a never-ending merry-go-round of learning- and obscure, outlandish words sit very comfortably at the center of it.

So, for today’s exercise, I began with a word:

Flummery.

My Notes app - and now, a newly established vocabulary journal (a new addition to my life) - is an amalgamation of the utterly random. When I encounter a word I love, I save it. This was such a word.

And what a word it is.

Flummery is, quite simply, a delightfully unexpected doozy. The kind of word that opens a door, and then another, and then several more.

Because within its definition, another word appeared. And then another. And suddenly, this was no longer a word- it was a world.

This tends to be how these exercises unfold: I look something up, fall into a small rabbit hole, learn something adjacent, and then something entirely unrelated.

Procrastination? Possibly.
Creative process? Also possibly.
Best not to overthink it.

Now - before we proceed, a small confession.

I began writing this on one day, using one dictionary, and finished it using another - specifically, Merriam-Webster. So what you’ll see in the sketchbook pages reflects the latter, but I feel quite loyal to the first definition I found… so we’ll begin there.

Flummery (noun):
• insincere praise or ornamental speech
• a sweet, soft pudding once made with milk, oats, or fruit

Two definitions, wildly at odds - and therefore, perfect.

Digging a bit deeper, I learned the word comes from the Welsh llymru, a sour oatmeal dish. Over time, its meaning softened… and then, rather wonderfully, soured again- evolving into decorative nonsense, empty compliments, and unsubstantial talk.

I love this kind of evolution. There is a particular delight in small, seemingly inconsequential things - like when a waiter brings a tiny pitcher of milk with your coffee, or when a new pen has just the right click.

A word that once described dessert and now describes insincerity feels like exactly the sort of detail that exists purely for internal glee.

Or does it?

The older I get, the more I find that these small discoveries carry disproportionate joy.

And so, usually at this point, I would turn to the “thing.”

But this time, it wasn’t so simple.

Because as I wrote down the definition, another word emerged - and then another- and soon I wasn’t drawing a thing so much as wandering through a kind of linguistic theatre.

I discovered “First Known Use,” which led me to 1606- which led me to other words from that year - which led me, naturally, to cothurnus: a high, thick-soled boot worn by actors in Greek and Roman tragedy…but also a word used to describe the elevated, slightly stilted tone of ancient drama.

So what began as flummery became mummery, became merrymaking, became pantomime- an entire cast of characters assembling themselves perfectly on the pages of my sketchbook.

And somewhere in there: a man who has lost his salt and pepper shaker.

A woman balancing a cake like a crown.

A court of common pleas.

A small, peculiar world.

I’m not entirely sure what it is yet- a character, a poem, a book- but it feels like something.

So, here now, is the rest of my illustrated stream of consciousness. A small glimpse inside my brain.

You may take it as an invitation- to find your own word and a thing- or simply to wander through mine.

Either way, I do hope flummery finds its way into your day.

Curiously Yours,
Carly

I turn 39 today. That is a strange thing to type.

Not because 39 feels significant in the way milestone birthdays are supposed to…it’s not a round number, not a clean marker. Strange because I’m not sure I’ve ever written my age on the internet before. Not since I turned 30, anyway.

Growing up, there was a rule- unspoken, but very much spoken: a woman should not share her age. My mother didn’t learn her own mother’s age until my older brother was born- on her mother’s 50th birthday. A whole half-century, kept quiet.

I’ve been thinking about that lately.

So: I am 39.

And I’d like to reflect, just a little.

When I turned 30, my life looked quite different. I was single, living in Los Angeles. I was a working illustrator, but not yet fully confident in it. Not yet fully confident in much, if I’m honest. I had the outlines of a life- the career, loosely. The apartment. The sense that things were assembling themselves in the right direction, if slowly.

Then I got Lucca, my dog, in September 2018. Met my now-husband Danny a few weeks later.

Fast forward a bit: we got engaged in Central Park on Friday, March 13th, 2020. If you need a moment to place that date…take it.

We flew back to Los Angeles a few days later into a world that had rearranged itself overnight.

We got married in Boca Raton, FL that December, streamed to hundreds of people (no guest list cap when it’s virtual). I wore the dress. We said the words. Then- back to reality.

When we returned to Los Angeles, deep in lockdown - newlyweds - we looked at each other and said: we want to be closer to family before we become parents.

So we moved to Miami in August 2021. I was eight months pregnant, in the dead of a Florida summer, during a global pandemic. I do not recommend this particular sequence of events. And yet…

Oliver was born that November.

I became a mother, started over in a new city, launched a wallpaper company (a whole chapter unto itself), and began the long, humbling process of figuring out who I was in this new shape of life.

I made friends. Lost my footing. Found it again.

Bought a house.

Had my second son, Teddy, in 2024.

And somewhere in there- slowly, then all at once- I started to find something that felt like my voice. My actual one.

Ironically, the day I gave birth to Teddy, I also signed my first book deal. Signed, sealed, delivered.

And then - this past January, because apparently I have a pattern - we moved again. To Michigan. My husband’s home state. At 38. Almost 39. Not just closer to family, but among them.

So here we are.

I have moved twice in my late 30s. I have started over more times than I ever expected.

I have a book coming out this September - my first illustrated and authored book, the thing that feels most like me of anything I’ve ever made- and I am releasing it at 39, the final year of a decade.

If you had told my younger self all of this, I would have thought the timeline felt late. That it should have already happened.

And yet - while my career finally feels like it has landed somewhere true, somewhere earned - I simultaneously feel like I am only just beginning. Apparently there is still quite a lot to figure out. I find I don’t mind.

A few less earnest confessions to close: I have never been a voracious reader - I am working on this, slowly, in my own way. I have never been much of a cook. This also remains true, though I’m taking it one dish at a time. I am learning to paint with gouache - equal parts terrifying and exciting. Beginner tips welcome. I am keeping a vocabulary journal, because I have always loved words (A Word and a Thing returns soon) and the feeling of writing them down by hand. And I want to relearn the piano - I quit at nine, which now feels both premature and completely on-brand.

So, here’s to 39.

Not late. Not early.

Just the beginning.

Curiously Yours,

Carly

I’ve always been a curious person - perhaps bordering on a bit nosy - and I’ve come to believe that you can learn a great deal about someone by looking at their desk.

What’s on it. What’s around it. What they keep.

This series is an attempt to capture those details: the objects, the habits, and the other telling things that shape a creative life. Think of it as a home visit, but without the awkward part where you have to pretend you weren’t already looking around.

For the first installment, I’d like to introduce you to .

We met when I was living in Los Angeles, after I (shamelessly) slid into her DMs…a strategy that has proven, somewhat surprisingly, very effective over the years. We got coffee in Larchmont, talked for too long, and I walked away with the distinct feeling that we were going to be friends.

Since then, she’s been something of a modern pen pal- keeping in touch across cities and seasons of life. When I started thinking about this Substack, she was one of the first people I called for encouragement and, more importantly, good advice. She gave both in equal measure.

Ali is the voice behind A La Carte, a Substack that reads like a very well-hosted dinner party - thoughtful, specific, and quietly indulgent. She writes about style, interiors, food, and the small details that make a life feel considered, always with an eye for what is both beautiful and actually lived-in.

And so, naturally, I asked her to be my inaugural guest on From the Desk Of… She was gracious enough to answer all 43 questions, and she doesn't disappoint on a single one.

Describe your workspace.

I work from home, so my workspace is really just wherever I happen to be sitting with my laptop on any given day. Sometimes it’s my sofa or my balcony, sometimes a coffee shop, but most often it’s my dining table. Officially, I have an actual desk in my living room that I’ve sat at maybe once—it’s more of a decorative object at this point. I like to float around depending on whether I have calls, I’m writing, or I just need to feel like a different person for a few hours.

What’s always on your desk?

Somewhere between one and three beverages, a cutting mat and X-acto knife, and a candle.

What’s currently on rotation on your desk? Is there anything new or unexpected finding its way there lately?

I have an ever-changing stack of books on my dining table that I’ve pulled to reference, either for a mood board I’m making or for inspiration as I write my book (out next year!). Right now the stack includes Jenny Walton’s Jenny Sais Quoi, Michael Diaz Griffith’s The New Antiquarians, a couple of old Martha Stewart books, and a handful of vintage art books.

Are you a tidy desk person or more… layered?

Layered, unfortunately. There’s always a mad scramble to clear my dining-table-desk when someone’s coming over for dinner.

Your favorite everyday pen or pencil?

A Le Pen in dark brown.

Is there a desk accessory you dream of owning? (a Ralph Lauren leather blotter, a Montblanc pen, etc.)

Not a specific accessory, but I dream of having an entire dedicated office. A room that is just for work, with a door I can close.

Do you keep a notebook or planner? If so, what kind?

No, I’m a digital girl. As much as I love paper and stationery, I’m much more organized when everything’s on the Cloud.

Do you have any favorite stationery?

Choosing Keeping in London sells these beautiful lace cards that are so delicate and special. I stocked up when I was there two years ago, but I’m all out now, and it’s tragic.

Is there a card or note you’ve kept over the years?

I save most of the cards my friends and family have given me over the years, but they go into a box in my closet that I rarely open. I just have this feeling that someday I’ll be so glad they’re there—it’s like an archive of love notes from my favorite people.

Coffee or tea?

Both! I drink espresso and matcha interchangeably. I have really cute teacups that I love drinking from, so sometimes that influences my beverage choice.

Is there a ritual or routine to the way you start your day?

I’m a slow starter. I like to lie in bed for a long time—sometimes a couple of hours—usually scrolling or doing the NYT Crossword while I ease into being awake. I don’t think this is laziness so much as a deeply held commitment to leisure. Eventually I get up, get ready, make my way to the kitchen, and eat breakfast while I answer emails.

And one for how you end it?

I’m much more ritualistic about bedtime than I am about mornings. It starts a couple of hours before I actually go to sleep: skincare, red-light mask, magnesium, air conditioning set to 65, poplin pajamas. I’m a deep and consistent sleeper, and I’m convinced it’s because I take the wind-down seriously. Sleep is not something I’m casual about.

Whose desk would you most like to rummage through?

Ooh, good question. I bet Nora Ephron had some interesting notes and tidbits hidden in drawers. Maybe Dries Van Noten? Or Miuccia Prada? I’d be interested to see what things these big, impressive designers have quietly stashed as inspiration.

A place you’ve traveled to that felt especially creatively inspiring?

Milan is my favorite city for inspiration, so much so that I’m currently planning an inspiration trip there with the travel company El Camino in the fall! I think Milan has this perfect blend of modernism and heritage—it’s an old city that’s home to so much innovation across design, fashion, architecture, and art.

A favorite shop you’ve discovered while traveling?

I lost my mind the first time I went to Santa Maria Novella in Florence—this was before they started opening stores all over the world, and I had never heard of them. It’s been there since 1221, originally a convent infirmary and later, in 1612, the pharmacy it’s known as today. It’s just the most beautiful retail experience you’ll ever have.

A favorite bookstore?

Daunt Books in London is just as special as you think it’d be. But my favorite favorite bookstore is my local one, Vroman’s. It’s a fixture of the community and I hope it never ever closes.

If you could go on a creative retreat anywhere, where would it be—and what would you do there?

I’m really excited about the trip I’m planning to Milan and Turin—I think that’s going to be a major source of creative invigoration for me. But if I were to plan one just for me, I’d maybe choose somewhere in France. I’ve been wanting to go to the South of France forever—Nice, maybe!

Favorite gift you’ve given?

I commissioned a hand-drawn Bode pillow for my sister’s 30th birthday that basically was a big inside joke between us—it had a drawing of her dog Maisie, a nod to her childhood nickname, a reference to our first sister trip. She always says that it’s the first object she’d save in a fire.

Favorite gift you’ve received?

Not to harp on about my sister, but we know each other so well, it’s easy to gift each other! Years ago she was living in Seattle, and during one of my visits to see her, we stopped into an antique store where I fell in love with this little rug. It was just so pretty, and I wanted to buy it, but I didn’t want to carry it back with me on the plane or deal with it, so I left it behind. Fast forward weeks later to the holidays—I unwrapped a box with a note inside that said “Look under the sofa”, and my rug was there with a bow around it. She had dropped me off at the airport, then turned right back around and bought the rug without me knowing.

A book that changed how you see the world?

Marjan Kamali’s The Stationery Shop did that for me. It’s such a sensory book, and I think just reading it made me a better writer. I also loved listening to Ina Garten’s memoir Be Ready When the Luck Happens—the back half is about how she stepped into her own ambition and just let her gut guide her, and I feel really connected to that type of thinking.

A film you could watch over and over again?

That Thing You Do.

Comfort TV show?

I am, for better or worse, a committed reality TV watcher. Something about watching the Housewives implode at a dinner table or strangers fall in love behind a wall requires exactly the right amount of brain engagement to make any stress I’m feeling temporarily disappear.

A favorite children’s book?

Madeline. Boring answer, everyone loves it, but I’m a big Bemelman’s fan. I love his non-children’s books, too.

A book you judged by the cover—and bought because of it?

I bought a vintage book about dance steps years ago that I’ve genuinely never opened. I just love the plaid bookcloth it’s bound in. It lives on my shelf and it’s beautiful and that’s enough.

Your favorite object in your home?

I have two paintings made by my grandpa that I love more than anything else I own.

Do you listen to anything while you work, or do you prefer silence?

I prefer silence—I do a lot of writing, and I need to be able to hear the voices in my head.

If you do listen—what tends to be playing? (a particular artist, genre, or playlist)

If I happen to be doing something I don’t need intense focus for, I like listening to Bossa Nova—the restaurant Pujol in Mexico City has excellent playlists on Spotify that I always rotate through.

Any podcasts you return to regularly?

I love Handsome, Giggly Squad, Everything Iconic with Danny Pellegrino, Sentimental Garbage, Diabolical Lies… mostly pop-culture pods.

Do you have a favorite accessory?

I have a Portuguese basket bag that I love—it’s such a great shape and makes even my most boring outfits feel intentional.

Is there an accessory you wish you could wear (admire on others, but aren’t quite sure you can pull off yourself)?

Glasses. I just haven’t found the right ones for my face. I’ve worn contacts every day for over 20 years, but one of these days, I’ll break the cycle.

Is there an outfit you feel most creative in?

I have two answers to this. The outfit I feel most like myself in is an A-line midi skirt, a white tee, and a trench coat—that combination is basically my uniform. But the outfit I feel most comfortable actually creating in is a pair of Donni pants and a giant grey sweatshirt, which is what I’m wearing as I type this.

Your favorite place to observe people?

I could sit at a sidewalk café for hours. The patios at Barra Santos and Capri Club here in LA are great people-watching spots.

What do you collect, intentionally or accidentally?

I’m a collector in general — I just like to be surrounded by beautiful things. Art books, cookbooks, pewter and silver tableware, lace tablecloths, baskets, restaurant ephemera. None of it was really planned, but somehow it’s become a collection.

What’s a rabbit hole you’ve gone down recently?

I picked up a 1997 book about Thonet last weekend at Bart’s Books in Ojai, which sent me down a whole ‘90s-early 2000s interiors spiral. There’s something about that era’s restrained minimalism mixed with timeworn objects that I can’t get enough of right now—Rose Tarlow does it so well, too. I also recently tracked down an early copy of her book The Private House, so the rabbit hole turned into another rabbit hole.

If you could host a dinner party anywhere, with anyone, what would it look like?

It’d be in a cozy stone cottage in the Cotswolds, ideally in the fall, when the leaves are all changing. I’m inviting my sister and a handful of my best friends—people who appreciate good food and an unfussy atmosphere. There’s a fire in the fireplace, and we’re all cramped in the dining room eating comfort food—mashed potatoes and some sort of pie and roasted vegetables. There are a lot of candles—no overhead lighting!—and we’re eating off of classic china patterns that never seem to feel grandma-y or like they came from a forgotten antique shop.

Favorite snack?

I love a mid-afternoon chocolate chip cookie.

Favorite pasta?

Ooh, this is tough. Maybe a spaghetti al limone, or something in a really light and buttery tomato sauce. I love Alison Roman’s mac and cheese when I’m cooking for a crowd, but if it’s for myself, it’s usually something simple and fresh with ingredients from my local farm market.

Favorite dessert?

Tiramisu!

Favorite flower?

Marigolds in the fall, garden roses in the spring. And mimosa! And tulips!

I have a deep love of very specific color naming—and find it quite amusing (“Dead Salmon” by Farrow & Ball). If you could name your favorite color, what would you call it?

Pistachio Toothpaste. I love a very specific shade of green that’s somewhere between a pistachio and a mint.

Do you have a favorite pretentious or whimsical word?

There are certain words that always just make me laugh. “Calamity” is one. “Galore” is another. I think I like sort of out-of-date words that pack a lot of personality.

Book that made you laugh a lot?

Anything by David Sedaris. I’ve read almost all of his books, and they’re all wonderful.

Favorite idiom?

“All roads lead to Rome” is a good one. I mean it literally as often as I mean it figuratively.

What do you do to get out of a creative rut?

I struggle to get out of a creative rut in my own day-to-day. I need a pretty significant interruption, like a trip somewhere exciting or a life-changing meal. Sometimes I just let myself be in the rut… These times come and go, and trying to muscle through them doesn’t usually help. Sometimes the most productive thing I can do is just wait.

Thank you, Ali, for indulging my nosiness, and for being the first desk (or table, rather) we visited.

If you enjoyed this, consider sharing it with someone who still writes letters, keeps too many books, or has a desk they also never sit at. More desks, more objects, more people worth meeting…coming soon.

Curiously Yours,

Carly

I’d like to take my relationship with color to the next level.

Part of the reason is that recently, color has been appearing more prominently in my work. I just launched my first collection with Paperless Post - a series of invitations ranging from adult dinner parties and weddings to children’s birthdays and celebrations. Knowing the collection would live as a cohesive body of work, I began thinking more intentionally about color. What kind of palette felt like my world?

In many ways, I created that color universe instinctively - choosing tones that felt right together rather than overthinking the theory behind them.

Simultaneously, I’ve been illustrating my first children’s book. That process has raised similar questions: what do I want color to communicate?

All of this made me realize that if color is going to play a larger role in my work going forward, it’s time to understand it more deeply.

When I first began illustrating and sharing my work with the world, there was color - but not much intention behind it. My art supplies were chosen mostly out of convenience.

That doesn’t sound very romantic, does it? A more poetic version might go as follows: “I was drawn to the movement of watercolor…” or “The boldness of oil paint spoke to my soul.” But the truth is far less cinematic. I was working in an office when my unintentional career as an illustrator began, so I used what was around me: pens and printer paper.

Eventually I discovered the art supply store - and more specifically, Copic brush markers. The marker is bold and vibrant, but not particularly forgiving. You pick a color and there it is, exactly as the cap promised, right on the page.

In the beginning, I was drawing a great deal of fashion and street style imagery, often referencing runway shows or editorial photographs. Because of that, the color choices weren’t truly mine. They were dictated by the original images - a coat was camel, a dress in cobalt blue, and my job (I thought) was simply to translate those colors as accurately as possible.

Now, when creating work for myself - or thinking ahead to future books - the palette becomes my decision. And that changes everything.

For a few years, drawing fashion moments backstage, on stage, in the wings, and on the streets became my routine. Eventually, I began to feel creatively stifled. A certain internal pressure to deliver what others had become accustomed to seeing within my work.

So I did something simple.

I took away color.

In black and white I found a new kind of meaning - even a bit of romance. As I grew as an individual, my art developed alongside me. The work remained mostly colorless, with the occasional pop of red. In many ways, that still feels like the core of my artistic ethos.

The illustrator Edward Gorey once admitted that he never felt entirely comfortable working in color, which perhaps explains why his strange and wonderful worlds lived almost entirely in pen and ink. I understand that instinct.

But in the past few years - perhaps from moving from New York City to Los Angeles to Miami and now Michigan, perhaps from becoming a mother, or perhaps simply from becoming more myself — I’ve felt the desire to bring color back into the work.

Editorial and brand collaborations began pushing me toward color. Clients were drawn to the line work but often wanted a fuller palette. At first this intimidated me, but it also forced me to grow.

If you saw my illustrations for Bergdorf Goodman the past two Holiday seasons, you know that color began playing a much larger role. While I started with unforgiving brush pens, I eventually expanded into watercolor and began experimenting digitally with color in Procreate.

The digital and the analog now inform one another. I can test palettes on the iPad and then approach paper with more confidence. The digital tools themselves have evolved tremendously - the range of brushes and textures is almost endless.

Over the past couple of years, I’ve also begun noticing how much materials themselves influence color. Each medium seems to carry its own palette. There is an inherent romanticism to watercolor - the softness, the way pigment moves unpredictably in water. Colored pencil conveys something entirely different: quieter, more deliberate, built slowly through layers.

The material becomes part of the color story. So how does one begin to find a relationship with color?

Observation.

Color is everywhere.

What colors do I gravitate toward when designing my home?
When choosing an outfit?
When hanging art on the wall?
What palettes appear in the paintings I return to again and again?

How are those colors used - boldly, sparingly, subtly?

I’ve also turned to my own body of work from the past ten years. What do I still love? Is there a through line in the selections? How do those palettes align with the ones I’m noticing elsewhere?

So we start with trusting the eye, and then we educate it.

My desk has expanded beyond a workspace - it’s become a place of study.

This feels like the beginning of a small study in color - one I hope we can explore together.

And since we’re here, what better platform to do such work? Substack is filled with creatives who are masters of their own fields, generously sharing their knowledge, curiosities, and discoveries. From interiors to mood boards to discovering female artists you should know, it’s an easy place to get lost for hours.

Here are a few writers I’ve been turning to for color inspiration. (I would list more categories, but my email limit has most definitely been reached).

Art & Design

- Absolument !
Kelsey is an art historian, writer, and the Archivist of the Eames Office. An American living in the Basque Country of France, she writes with deep curiosity about art, design, and visual culture. A wonderful place to begin is her essay “Three Pots of Inspiration: emotional hues, Meret Oppenheim, and art with a taste of candy shop.” Within that post she references other Substacks as well - so it’s an excellent entry point into an even larger color rabbit hole.

- À La Carte
Ali’s Substack is a masterclass in mood boards. She has an incredible ability to bring together imagery - interiors, fashion, art, objects - into visual worlds that feel both cohesive and aspirational. Her posts don’t just present color; they create an atmosphere you want to step into.

- The Rose Period
Rose writes one of the most engaging art-focused Substacks on the platform. Her piece “The History of Red” is a perfect place to start. She explores art history with intelligence and enthusiasm, constantly introducing readers to artists worth knowing. She’s also the Brand Director at Alex Mill - a brand that celebrates color beautifully. Her Notes often feature a steady stream of female artists to discover…a visual delight.

Beth is a graphic designer who explores color through design history and visual culture. Her essay “Why So Many Control Rooms Were Seafoam Green” is a fascinating look at how color choices influence the spaces we inhabit - often for reasons we might never expect.

Books & Illustration

& - Looking at Picture Books
For anyone interested in illustration, this Substack is essential reading. Jon and Mac analyze picture books with the kind of thoughtful attention usually reserved for literature or film. They go far beyond color for me - they are true masters of the picture book form.

- Slowpoke
Carson’s Substack feels like peeking into the studio of one of the most distinctive author/illustrators working today. Her reflections on drawing, life, and making books are thoughtful and personal, and her use of color - atmospheric, strange, and unmistakably her own - is something I return to again and again.

- Today’s Special
Christian shares glimpses of his creative process, sketches, and small observations from studio life. His work has a joyful, graphic use of color that feels both playful and deliberate, and seeing the thinking behind it is always inspiring.

If you have favorite Substacks, books, podcasts, films, or other sources you turn to for color inspiration, please do share - I’d love to discover them as well.

After all, learning to see color is a lifelong practice - and I suspect this is only the beginning.

Curiously Yours,

Carly

I found my path as an artist unexpectedly, simply by drawing a little something every day and sharing it with the world. I had no plan, no defined style, no declared influences. I just drew, day after day, and eventually a style found me.

I didn’t go to art school, nor did I study art history, so it was quite an ohhhhh, that makes sense moment when I learned that most artists do, in fact, have influences - and that this is often how they learn. If you studied art, this is likely obvious. For me, it was rather revelatory.

As I kept drawing, people began to say my work resembled this illustrator or that one -names I didn’t yet know. When I finally explored those references, an entirely new world revealed itself.

Studying those who came before you is not imitation; it is education. It sharpens your eye and strengthens your work. While I’m grateful I began somewhat unaware of this, I am equally grateful for the education that followed.

Over the years, I’ve spent countless hours researching, trying to better understand my own line work and how I might refine it. After finding my footing, I began to study artists whose work resonated with the direction I felt my own was heading.

For a period, my work explored the abstract, and I found myself drawn to the lines of Jean Cocteau, Matisse, and Picasso.

As the years have gone on, my work has continued to evolve. While some of those gestural, abstract faces remain, I find myself increasingly drawn to character.

Perhaps this was inevitable. I grew up in New York City, spent years working in and performing improv comedy, and have lived in a variety of places - New York, Los Angeles, Miami, and now Michigan - observing an endless cast of personalities along the way. Life as a working artist and mother of two young boys has only deepened that instinct to observe closely.

While many things have changed over the past ten-plus years - moving cities, becoming a mother- one thing has remained constant: my practice of learning.

For my own work, that learning has taken on many forms. Over time, I began seeking out the artists behind the lines that captivated me. One discovery led to another- a book here, a drawing there…until a small library of influences began to form. I’ve come to think of certain artists as professors of character - guides not only in line, but in tone and voice.

What fascinated me most was not simply the finished illustrations, but the decisions within them: the way a hand is simplified, the tilt of a figure, the rhythm of a line.

You study these things closely. You borrow a gesture here, an approach there. Then you practice...over and over again. And somewhere in that repetition, something remarkable happens: the borrowed pieces begin to rearrange themselves into something distinctly your own.

Sometimes that practice is quite literal. I’ll fill a page with nothing but hands, or spend an afternoon drawing feet- studying how a single line can suggest weight, posture, or personality. These small exercises aren’t necessarily meant to become finished works; they are simply a way of learning the language of a line.

Studying other artists is not about adopting their entire body of work, but about noticing the pieces that resonate with you and the ones that don’t. Over time, you begin to understand what elements you want to carry forward in your own voice.

I study how Ronald Searle draws feet, how Hilary Knight sketches a hand or a chair, the dry absurdity of Edward Gorey’s words, and the confidence in Al Hirschfeld’s line. And yet, when I put pen to paper, what emerges still feels innately my own.

Influence does not just teach you how to draw; it teaches you what you are drawn to. Over time, those instincts sharpen into taste, and taste begins to define your voice.

(below are a few recent drawings from my sketchbook:)

In the beginning, style found me. Now, I play a more active role in shaping where it goes.

That ongoing discovery is one of the great joys of making things.

And it still begins the same way it always has: pen to paper.

I’d love to know- whose work, whether art, music, or writing, has shaped the way you see the world?

Curiously Yours,

Carly

Today, I’m writing to you from a very different place - physically, emotionally, and in more ways than I am only beginning to understand.

For those unfamiliar with my geographical history, a brief recap: I was born and raised in New York City, moved to Los Angeles after college, and spent twelve formative years there. In 2021, pregnant with my first son Oliver, my husband and I relocated to Miami. As we looked ahead toward building a family, we knew we wanted to be closer to relatives- not quite ready for New York or Michigan, but near enough to feel supported.

We built a beautiful life in Coconut Grove, FL and welcomed our second son, Teddy, in March of 2024.

Then, in August 2025, somewhat suddenly and entirely decisively, we decided we wanted to move to Michigan.

My husband’s family is here- including two older boy cousins whom Oliver and Teddy absolutely idolize. We found ourselves craving a different rhythm. Something slower. Something steadier. Extra hands, yes, but also a deeper sense of rootedness. As the saying goes, it takes a village.

We have been here just over a month now, and what a breath of very cold air it has been.

Here is the astonishing part: I went sixteen years without seasons, only to arrive in Michigan on January 1st - in what locals assure me is one of the snowiest, coldest winters in recent memory.

People thought we were slightly unhinged.

But the truth is, I have missed the seasons for a very long time.

Arriving here, in the quiet severity of winter, clarified something I had only vaguely understood before: as someone prone to anxiety, the absence of seasonal markers- those natural passages of time, left me feeling a bit untethered. Seasons offer punctuation. Without them, the years can blur into one continuous sentence.

Growing up with seasons imprints something on you. And for the first time in sixteen years, I feel as though I am returning to a truer version of myself.

Yes, it is freezing. Yes, this winter has been intense.

And yet, I love it.

Even better, my children love it. They had never seen snow before; we arrived to inches already blanketing the ground. Oliver, formerly a devoted Miami water-slide enthusiast, is now wholly committed to sledding.

Children adapt so effortlessly…though, to my surprise, I found myself equally delighted by it all.

I feel grounded in a way that surprises me.. grounded by the cold, by the snow, the necessity of proper boots and evenings that arrive sooner than expected. Even aesthetically, I welcome the return to seasonal dressing. I adore layers.

And as I write this, a small realization arrives: perhaps my love of layers has always extended far beyond clothing…into my studio practice, my home, my work. Layers upon layers upon layers. Texture. Depth. Accumulation.

Maybe this is not a new instinct at all, but a returning one.

I am now in the latter half of my thirties, an age that seems, regardless of where you stand relative to it, to usher in a certain clarity. A grounding.

I feel deeply energized by my work - as an artist, an author, and a mother - and profoundly excited for what lies ahead. There is so much I look forward to sharing with you: my first book arriving later this year, illustrating a children’s book, continued collaborations with incredible brands and creatives, and expanding further into wallpaper and stationery design. This move has already begun reshaping how I want to work, live, and notice- and I look forward to sharing that unfolding here.

Thank you, truly, for being here.

There is much to come.

Curiously Yours,

Carly

**Please note- this post is a little long with many images- so you may need to click expand in your email to read the whole thing!**

Lately, my desk/floor have been covered in piles of paper, sketches, and scribbled notes. A bit chaotic, but really, it’s the makings of my first book!

I’ve been knee-deep in my first draft: sorting, sifting, drawing, writing. While at times overwhelming, the process is rather enjoyable. The “sifting and sorting” in particular has been quite calming.

In a world where so much of life happens on screens, there’s something grounding about being surrounded by tactile things…paper, scraps, folders, notebooks- and focusing on the simple act of sorting through it all. It’s proven to be a surprisingly therapeutic practice.

Even if you’re not working on a book, the act of sifting and tidying up can be useful. Sure, it may be a form of procrastination masquerading as a task- but useful nonetheless. Maybe it’s the pile of mail that’s been building up for weeks, grocery lists you’ve forgotten to toss, or old receipts found in your pockets. And if you’re anything like me, you might even breathe new life into those scraps. One person’s trash… is another curious artist’s collage.

So, with that, I wanted to share a few photos of my work-in-progress and my newly installed book nook- another tempting and inviting place to get lost in thought. A place where I can rearrange the shelves and perhaps even steal a few moments to actually sit down and read.

Here’s to finding beauty in the scraps, calm in the sorting, and a little magic in the making of it all.

Curiously Yours,

Carly

**Please note- this post is a little long with many images- so you may need to click expand in your email to read the whole thing.**

A few days ago I posted about my love of collecting tiny beautiful objects. I conveniently categorized this “for-my-work” hobby as “The Art of Collecting.” The thought of turning something that initially was not intended as the art into “the art” has continued to marinate in my brain. We can often become paralyzed trying to figure out what to post- especially when it’s dictated by what you think others want to see…but my best tool for when I’m in that mental merry-go-round is to stop and think: What do I enjoy seeing?

One of those elements is “the process.” Yes, the art is something to be admired. It can make you feel a certain way. It can change you, sure. It has the power to do a lot. But I sometimes find myself more attracted to the artist/behind-the-scenes than the art itself.

I may have titled this piece “The Art of the Paper Stack” to quasi justify all the papers and books I’ve accumulated over the years. But, in my defense..there is something I do find truly beautiful about stacks of paper. Small ones, big ones, messy ones, ripped ones, curated ones. Stacks with books. Stacks with objects. Stacks from above. Stacks up close. Stacks from afar.

…All the stacks. You can get so much out of a studio stack. Whenever I see a photo of an artist’s, or any creative’s space, I am for sure zooming in to digitally snoop. I want to see what books they’re reading, what pens they’re using, what notebooks they’re writing in and so forth. Perhaps I am romanticizing the mess here…but there is beauty in the mundane. This is a theme I have found shaping the creativity in my life again and again. I’m an observational artist. I think it is my creative duty to find beauty in what others may not notice. So with that, I thought I’d share some of my favorite stacks from my studio over the past few years. Happy snooping and enjoy!

Curiously Yours,

Carly

“A personal passion, nurtured and explored, can unexpectedly pave the way to your biggest aspirations...”

I didn’t set out to become an artist, nor did I start my adult life as one. Yet, I like to believe that certain questionable character traits I embody- anxiety, excessive eavesdropping, staring at strangers- all now seem to make perfect sense in light of where I've landed. In today's stream of consciousness, I’m focusing on one particular area... excessive “collecting.” While others might call it a mild case of hoarding or the accumulation of crap, I've conveniently changed the narrative to "The Art of Collecting."

I started accumulating objects about five years into my life as a working artist. Let's first dissect this aspect of "accumulation.” Before the official "collecting", I started playing around with objects that were already laying around the house: a pen, matches, jewelry, rulers. Since my career as an artist originated on a digital platform- Instagram - sharing my work solely through a screen inherently made it appear flat, lacking tactility. I wanted to somehow visually communicate to my audience that there was, in fact, a person behind these drawings. That's how integrating found objects into my work began. A pen in frame here, a dried-up flower there... almond Hershey’s chocolate nugget wrappers (clearly a favorite)... The objects gave the art context- a sense of place, scale, texture, and above all, the human touch.

Now, there’s a legitimate kind of collecting that is purely that: a focused pursuit of specific items. But I think for artists, it’s often a more organic process of discovery and growth, a way to gather visual inspiration and tactile connections to the world. What’s funny is, once you internally justify the act of collecting as part of your "process" with the repeated mantra of "it's for my work," you do, of course (or should), have to periodically check back in with yourself to ensure it is serving that purpose. Life as an artist/illustrator leaves what is considered "work" or "for the work" delightfully ambiguous. Not totally dissimilar to the whole what-to-or-not-to-write-off notion (insert one of my favorite Schitt's Creek moments here).

My collecting initially took the form of small, intriguing objects unearthed during my antiquing adventures, both in person and online. Things like vintage coin dishes and old lighters first caught my eye simply because I thought they were beautiful. Once they were in my possession, I had a natural instinct to layer them into my work.

Sharing these combinations on social media, I noticed a certain resonance with others as well. While it didn’t immediately translate into paid work, I loved it, without knowing what exactly would come of it.

Then, last year, a dream became a reality: I had the incredible opportunity to work with Bergdorf Goodman. And what was it in my portfolio that caught their attention? Precisely what we’ll call, those “Objects of Affection.” As a born and raised New Yorker, I had always been in awe of and inspired by the Bergdorf Goodman windows. Every year around the Holidays, my mom and I would walk down to 57th and 5th to admire the newly installed windows: the glamour, the creativity, the DRAMA! And now here I was, years later, collaborating with the iconic New York institution for a holiday campaign. To have the chance to contribute my own vision to a brand I admired so deeply, for so long, felt truly surreal.

It's truly a testament to how a personal passion, nurtured and explored, can unexpectedly pave the way to your biggest aspirations…

So, what is my big takeaway? Stick with it. Do what you love. Experiment. Don’t ever stop deep diving, going down rabbit holes or accumulating the things you love. Because you never know where it may take you…

Curiously Yours,

Carly

I’ve been a working artist and illustrator for a little over ten years. I’m in my late 30s, and there’s this notion- partially self-imposed, partially societal- that by this point, we should have it all (or most of it) figured out. I wrestle with that idea often, and I know many of my peers feel the same... especially women. Throw motherhood into the mix-specifically, being a mom to two little boys- and you’ve got yourself a recipe for self-doubt and judgment served piping hot.

But as a dear friend once told me: “Anyone who says they have it all together is lying.” So let’s take a moment and find some shared solace in that, shall we?

I’m in a season of life where I’m actively trying to rewrite my internal narrative and proudly declare: I don’t have it all figured out—and nor should I. There are, of course, many layers to this- personal, professional, emotional- but today I want to make a case for The Importance of Not Having It All Figured Out, specifically within the world of creativity.

At its core, the idea of “having it all figured out” is something of a mirage. What does that even mean, exactly? If we’ve truly figured everything out, doesn’t that suggest we’ve stopped learning- and by extension, stopped evolving?

As a kid, learning often felt like a chore- boring, rigid, overly structured. Maybe it was the material, maybe it was the fact that it was required. But now? Now we get to choose what we want to learn. And isn’t that kind of magical?

Yes, technology today is a bit Jetsons-meets-dystopia, but it’s also extraordinary. The ability to learn almost anything is right at our fingertips.

When I began my career as a self-taught illustrator over ten years ago, the resources were sparse compared to what’s available now. And let me tell you: I take full advantage. Maybe it’s because I never went to art school and still feel the occasional pang of impostor syndrome. Or maybe I’m simply wired to be a lifelong learner. Honestly, even if I had gone to art school, I suspect I’d still be consumed by curiosity.

Living and creating from a place of curiosity does something remarkable - it loosens the grip of self-judgment. And here’s an unexpected bonus: when you make learning part of your daily practice, the scary stuff starts to feel a little less... well, scary. Over the years, I’ve taken on projects that initially felt a bit out of my league. But the more I embraced the mindset of a forever student, the more I welcomed the challenge. And nine times out of ten, I emerged stronger, more secure, and far more confident in my work.

I know “not having it all figured out” isn’t exactly a groundbreaking concept. But I still think it’s important for people to say these things out loud - because someone else might need to hear them. If you’re feeling stuck or unsure, I hope this reminds you that you’re not alone. Even after ten-plus years working in my field and on some truly dream-worthy projects, I still seek out that reassurance. At the end of the day, we all just need to be reminded: we’re doing the best we can.

So! With that in mind, I want to share the places I turn to for learning, inspiration, and general creative joy. It’s a long list, and I’m sure I’m forgetting something. Not everything I consume is directly tied to illustration or art. In fact, I think it’s essential- especially when you’re in a creative rut—to step away from your discipline and dip into other forms of creativity. You’ll see that reflected in the list below. And if you make it to the end, please do share any other classes, creators, or creative spaces that have inspired you lately. Enjoy!

Art & Illustration

Domestika

• Sketchbook Techniques for Children’s Illustration – A creative, in-depth course taught by the wildly talented and charming Ema Malyauka. A real treat.

• Sharpen Your Conceptual Skills – Taught by New Yorker Creative Director Nicholas Blechman. Insightful and smart.

• Designing and Making Graphic Props for Filmmaking – Annie Atkins shares her process for designing props for filmmakers like Wes Anderson and Steven Spielberg. A must-watch if you’re into world-building and visual storytelling.

• Vintage Illustration for Engaging Children’s Books – With the amazing Ingela P. Arrhenius. Her style is iconic, playful, and full of warmth.

Skillshare

• Anything by Tom Froese ()– A brilliant illustrator and teacher. Two standout classes:

  • Odd Bodies: Illustrating Expressive, Stylized People

  • Sweet Spots: Expressing Big Ideas in Small Editorial Illustrations

(Also—oop!—I have some Skillshare classes too.)

Writing, Advertising & Graphic Design

MasterClass

• David Sedaris Teaches Storytelling and Humor – Equal parts insightful and delightfully strange. Pure gold.

• Jeff Goodby and Rich Silverstein Teach Advertising and Design – Two legendary ad men teach you how to think big and execute smart.

  Netflix

• The Art of Design: Paula Scher Graphic Design – I’ve watched this episode multiple times. A true master of visual language, Scher describes typography as “painting with words.” It’s bold, brilliant, and wildly inspiring.

• Abstract: The Art of Design – Jonathan Hoefler: Typeface Design – Another rewatch-worthy episode. Hoefler’s passion for the detail and storytelling of type design is infectious and lets you nerd out on all things letters—in the best way.

Entrepreneurship, Style & General Inspiration

YouTube

• Rajiv Surendra’s Channel – Rajiv lives in the pursuit of craftsmanship, creativity, and deep intentionality. His videos make you want to slow down, carve a fountain pen from wood, and write letters to your future self. Highly recommend.

MasterClass

• Martha Stewart: Think Like a Boss, Live Like a Legend -I mean… the title says it all.

• Sara Blakely Teaches Self-Made Entrepreneurship -A masterclass in scrappy resilience and original thinking.

• Tan France Teaches Style for Everyone - Charming, practical, and full of thoughtful insights on personal expression. Tan makes a strong case for style as a creative tool—one that reflects who you are and how you move through the world.

HBO

• Very Ralph - A beautifully shot documentary on the life and career of Ralph Lauren, the ultimate storyteller in American fashion. I’ve watched it more than once—it’s a masterclass in branding, vision, and building a world through style.
  

This list is getting long, but if you're still with me and want to explore the worlds of interior design, floristry, upholstery, crafts, and more, Create Academy is for you. So many beautifully produced, thoughtfully taught courses by true masters of their craft.

There are, of course, many other places to learn - books, podcasts, !Substack! and more. If you’d like, I’d be happy to share some of my favorites in those areas in the future. And as always, thank you for reading and being part of this ongoing conversation about creativity, growth and endless curiosity.

Curiously Yours,

Carly

Welcome back to another installment of "A Word and a Thing.” It seems a brief interlude has passed since our last exchange, though not without good reason. My absence was due to an exciting development: a collaboration with the window treatment company, Everhem. For those unfamiliar, my creative work extends to the world of wallcoverings and textile design. This partnership with Everhem showcases two of my existing wallpaper motifs (Circus Circus and Dainty Rose), alongside a pair of newly conceived creations (Starry Moon and Winking Diamond). All four patterns are available in drapery, Roman shades, and the charming café curtain. It’s pretty rewarding to witness my illustrations take on these new forms, adorning both walls and windows alike. Should your curiosity be piqued, take a gander over on Everhem’s website, or at my own online atelier where my wallpaper collection resides. Fear not my fellow passionate pattern people, a dedicated post about the creative genesis of the collection, along with my enduring affection for wallpaper and textiles, will soon follow. 

But for now, allow me to offer a glimpse into the Everhem photoshoot from Oliver’s and Teddy’s bedrooms. The revamped rooms bring me so much joy, and I hope they will for you too!

Now then! Back to our regularly scheduled programming.  Those who have previously indulged in the "Word and a Thing" exercise may know that the selection process for both is often a random affair. A word or a thing may come to you in a dream, present itself in the mundane act of eating a bowl of cereal, materialize during a doom scrolling session, or simply spring forth spontaneously. This week, however, I found myself stumped and wanted to avoid the depths of my own overthinking merry-go-round. Thus, I turned to the ultimate keeper of words - a book! What a concept! I opened up a favorite - Oscar Wilde’s “The Picture of Dorian Gray” and decided to do some sleuthing. I recall initially navigating Wilde’s narrative with a bit of difficulty, as I get easily distracted and creatively overwhelmed by beautifully-written prose, interesting names and places . My journey through "Dorian" this time was again slow-moving, due to my frequent pauses to admire the sheer artistry of the sentences or to research obscure objects  (ie “lorgnette” - noun- spectacles with a handle…I see a future ‘word and thing’ in her future.)  Nevertheless, inspiration was swift to strike upon reading this sentence: “…some little distance away, was sitting the artist himself, Basil Hallward, whose sudden disappearance some years ago caused, at the time, such public excitement and gave rise to so many STRANGE CONJECTURES.”​​…Strange conjectures!!…there it was.

I had uncovered our word, or rather, a pair of them. Not only did this exercise send my creative wheels into high gear, but “Dorian Gray’s” deliciously dark and fantastical genre also ignited inspiration for the gothic style lettering of “strange conjectures.”

I was so enamored with my choice of words, that the “thing” part of the exercise took a back seat. That’s just how things went down. (If you recall, the star of the show in Vol. 5 was the ‘thing’- Tulips.) ‘Umbrella’, ‘bird’ and ‘fox’ did find their way onto the page, and as you’ll notice in the introduction image, the fox felt like an appropriate protagonist. Two limericks also emerged from this exercise, one involving the title of today’s piece- “strange conjectures” which was inspired my brother’s own strange conjectures: all bears are just humans in bear costumes…please do share if you too have any strange conjectures!

Some may think my ramblings and drawings here to be a bit…random. But for many creatives like myself– randomness is necessary in the initial stages of discovery. This entire "Word and a Thing" endeavor is one grand exploration, a delightful research expedition. You can’t expect inspiration to always strike just by sitting alone at your desk... We must venture forth into the world, immerse ourselves in all that it offers, and live as an active observer. For one never knows in what unexpected moment inspiration will decide to strike. Have that pen and paper ready! 

Curiously Yours,

Carly

As children, many of us have passively consumed stories, shows, or songs, rarely considering the individuals behind them. There’s something pure in that of course- you hear a song, you like it. It makes you feel something. Not sure what… but something. I’ve always had an often-unreliable memory (likely fueled by anxiety), so pinpointing those childhood influences for myself can be a bit of a challenge. Either because of or in spite of this, I’m consumed by childlike wonder and curiosity, unable to turn off my brain. (The up side of all of this is that I rarely get bored.) As an illustrator for 10 years, it’s now the creators themselves – their journeys, philosophies, and perspectives – that hold an equal, if not greater, fascination to me.

Which brings me to our teacher today: the late, great Charles M. Schulz. Schulz is the brilliant mind behind the beloved Peanuts universe, featuring Snoopy, Charlie Brown, and the whole gang. While venturing down one of my frequent "rabbit holes" of exploration, I stumbled upon an insightful interview with Charles. So much of what he shared resonated deeply, prompting me to share these valuable takeaways with you all today :

“When a composer is composing well, the music is coming faster than he can think of it- and when I have a good idea, I can hardly get the words down fast enough, I’m afraid they will leave me before I get them down on the paper…and sometimes my hand will literally shake with excitement as I’m drawing it because I’m having a good time…Unfortunately, this does not happen every day.”

“Im always very much offended when people ask if I ever do satire on the social condition?…well I do that almost every day…and they say ‘well, do you ever do political things?’ and I say ‘I do things which are more important than politics- I’m dealing with love and hate and mistrust and fear and insecurity - Linus goes away to camp and he becomes frightened the first night- and he says ‘what if my parents move away while I’m gone and don’t tell me?’…little kids worry about things like that but adults forget the problems little kids have.”

“I like to think I bring up some solutions now and then, I suppose one of the solutions as Charlie Brown, to keep on trying…he never gives up.”

“I still think my function is just to draw a little picture whether it is on a scrap paper or in a national magazine or in a comic strip that runs in 1700 Newspapers, but there is something about writing a letter to a friend and illustrating a point with a little cartoon or having a child come up to you and say ‘will you draw me a Snoopy?’..and right before his or her eyes a Snoopy appears and his or her eyes grow big with delight and I’ve drawn them a Snoopy…and I’ve given that person a brief moment of happiness, what more can a person ask?”

What stands out most to you? In the last quote “…and I’ve given that person a brief moment of happiness, what more can a person ask?” really struck a chord. At the end of the day, the greatest thing I could hear from a reader would be “your drawing made me smile” or to know it made them laugh. That’s the truth, cheesy, but true. So on that note, I’ll leave you with a few of my own illustrations I hope leave you with some kind of happy funny feeling inside…

For those that wish to travel further down a Charles M. Schulz rabbit hole with me, you can scroll through the Charles M. Schulz Museum instagram or explore the entire archive of Peanuts comics here . And I highly recommend watching the full interview “How Charles Schulz created Charlie Brown and Snoopy” here. Enjoy!

Curiously Yours,

Carly

“It’s nice to converse on the lawn with a friend,
while wearing your best clothes, and on the weekend.
now you may think that’s odd,
especially on wet sod,
but who cares!? Life is short! Ladidah, just pretend.”

“Well, it’s been a long day.
That’s kind of all I can say.”

“Barnaby Belloughs was just a simple fellow.
He loved purples ties and his coats a sort of yellow.
He’d often look up in the sky,
with his fingers around just one eye.
Even though passersby could be judgy and wonder why.”

“I like to dress up and go out on the town
A top hat, a monocle, a mooooostach that is round.
And perhaps some red shoes,
For I have nothing to lose.
Except, wait my pants!
Where’d they go!? I’m confused…”

Curiously Yours,

Carly