These days particularly, although I cannot possibly explain it to you, I am always returning to my home in the village of the Nine Houses. And always I am returning to this photo, which I took on a recent visit as a way to remind myself. The flowers makes me think of summer and good smells. Incidentally, the little niche was made for saints. Almost every house has such a place. Most of the time the figure is Mary, draped in her blue coat, our sublime mother and protector. In the beginning, I thought I must do that too.  I began looking in flea markets, thinking she might appear among someone’s forgotten momentos.  But then one day I walked into a little gallery in Gradz, Austria, and there was this vase. Very heavy, crusty and old looking, made of cement; the top is finished with a beautifully painted and glazed white and blue flower motif. Two extremes that attract. I think of it as Mary in the abstract. Mary in all of her alchemy. Mary as the source of fresh water, beauty and divine magic.

I visited my friend, San Francisco painter,  Marshall Crossman. She is a vivacious spirit who is also a really good cook. I used her art for staging some jobs and I hope to own one of her paintings one day. I love the vibrant colors she uses in her paintings. Her figures are always moving, always full of energy, and they bring that energy to any room.

Here is what my questions were to Marshall Crossman:

What is on your mind when you paint? I like to be “in the zone”, an intuitive place where I am disconnected from my rational mind.

What was the last great art show you visited? In January I saw the great Willem DeKooning Retrospective at the MOMA in New York. He is a painting hero for me. Such inspiration !

What would be a perfect place to hang your paintings? I like my paintings, well-lit, anywhere out in the world: private homes, offices, galleries, museums.

Who inspires you the most? Other hard working, serious artists.

What is your favorite place in San Francisco? I adore this city, but I have no single favorite place. Tartine Bakery on Guerrero (a great place to watch San Franciscans), my studio in the Bayview, South of Market where I lived for many years, Valencia Street –to name a few.

Website: www.marshallcrossman.com

Marshall’s paintings may be seen at the Dolby Chadwick Gallery, San Francisco. A solo exhibition is scheduled for Sept, 2012. www.dolbychadwickgallery.co

Photos by John Bagley

My place is full of objects and naturally each has a story, but among the most special are those made by my close friend Kate Frankel (Roger & Hebe Studio). There is a penholder in my office, in the living room a wonderfully imaginative holder with vases; a hot pot holder and a tea cozy in the kitchen, a first-aid pouch in the bathroom, an i-phone holder in my bag. And it is not enough that they are in every room, they also travel with me. Kate even made the name tag in the shape of the apple for my luggage, and I cannot forget the Christmas tree ornaments. You can call this a Kate obsession. I met her years ago when her twin boys and my daughter were just starting kindergarten. Now, the kids are taller than we are. Kate always struck me as a very elegant women, and not given to the mainstream. Not in her clothing, not in her life.  And you see it in what she creates, you can see how she sees the world, Her felt-fiber designs are particularly imaginative — completely unexpected — but at the same time, elegant. She also executes her design. I imagine that she cannot live without her particular materials and tools:  her German high quality felt and thread.  Her various pairs of scissors, her sewing machine. And then there is her eye for nuance. Her cleverness.  Her tireless effort to find something human in the everyday.

We spoke the other day and I asked these questions:

How do these ideas come to you?

Quite often in the wee hours of the morning, when I’m lying awake, my mind tends to solve design issues and I come up with new uses for felt.

What is the last great object not made by you that you held in your hands?

A hand-carved wooden crab – I like the shape of a crab’s shell and its claws.

If you had to leave tonight — to go on a completely unexpected vacation — where would you go?

Paris, bien sur!

Who inspires you the most?

My Aunt Cat, (Catherine Bixby Barrett) whom I’m named after. She is 88 and still working on new designs for knitting projects, Valentines, clothespin dolls. And she continues to paint in watercolor, which for me is the ultimate challenge!

Where do you go in San Francisco to feel creative?

The Flower Mart with its branches of buds and bright blooms (Floriana was my first tour guide for the Flower Mart!) And I like “window shopping” – admiring the displays at such small boutiques as: Workshop on Union St., Erica Tanov on Fillmore St., and  Bell’Ochio on Brady.

Here is what happens. My daughter, Adriana, and I will be strolling along a street in some city.  We have no particular destination in mind. I’m thinking of Venice last year. Or was it the year before? Or, perhaps it was another city altogether.  But let’s say it was Venice and we were walking alongside one of the canals. We were in one of those earthly heavens where it doesn’t matter where you are, where any nuance is sufficient, where the most subtle light on a wall, or the architecture in the waiter’s brow is enough. Or whatever it is. Eventually, we come to the oldest part of the city, near Punta Della Dogana and the Peggy Gugenhaim Museum. For some reason I’m driven to check out what is behind a particular Venetian façade, away from the crowded streets. We end up in Antiooo’s Lounge and Restaurant (www.sinahotels.com).  Totally unexpected. The dining room is all white, and for that, serene, yet at the same time, busy with embossed walls, light fixtures and small but beautiful flower arrangments. In this place every bite of food is enjoyable. Whether it is or it isn’t. Everything is perfect, whether it is or it isn’t. And then we go into The Red lounge, equally surprising, with a fireplace wrapped in a mirror frame and the hearth filled with wood. Very dramatic. And then my daughter will look at me with her fabulous smile.

The other day a friend and I were sitting in the kitchen talking about this and that and the conversation lead to a place where my home is in Slovenia. I mentioned a village and I told him that is not big. “Well, but there must be a street,” he said. “There is no street,” I replied. “It is just nine houses and a church”.

And so I came to the name for a blog: Nine Houses. Each has some association, which I’ll share with you in time.

But the essence of this place is a paradox. On the one hand, the look of these houses and their gardens conveys serenity and restraint, the sensation of being at the far end of the world, completely removed from speed of any kind. Secure.

On the other hand, underneath: chaos, asymmetry, passions run amok. History. Here, you are equidistant between Venice and Alps. Between calm and calamity, between great refinement and the coarseness of it.

It’s the contradiction that’s interesting, and finally inspiring.