One day I was at a friend's house that was decorated in black and white, chrome and glass. It was a striking gorgeous decor. Furniture and art were artfully placed to create a calm energy. Fabulous wine was poured and contemplated.
This was a very different aesthetic sense to friends in Italy. Their house was an old converted farmhouse with exposed beams, tiled floors and family around every corner. The kitchen had open cupboards. The center island had focaccia with rosemary under tea towels. The stove top was full of simmering pots as the dishwasher relentlessly chugged away to provide the place settings for the next meal. We were expecting 15 to 20 people for supper. Grandchildren peeked around the corner and were welcomed with open and floury arms. The smell of cooking, herbs and puffs of flour were in the air. It was a striking earthy atmosphere.
These two scenes crossed my mind when I was photographing some of the food I had made. If you look closely at my pictures, the full blown photo shows scratches on the wooden bowl, bumps on the apples and marks on the tabletop.
I aspire to the first style but my life gives me the second style. One style inspires me and the other comforts me.