All Diane Keaton had to do was ask!
Several years ago, the Oscar-winning actress was the draw for a Palm Springs Preservation Foundation benefit. While autographing a copy of her book, California Romantica, for me, I expressed appreciation for her films, as well as her efforts on behalf of the Los Angeles Conservancy, an organization (as does the Palm Springs troop) that tirelessly champions for the security of its city’s iconic treasures. I’d hardly finished my comment, when she looked up from signing and asked, “Well, are you a member? If not, you should be!” The next day, I joined the LA Conservancy.
It’s not just the history associated with the buildings and structures that are on the radars of groups likes those above that captivates my senses. It’s the energy too. Whether I’ve walked into landmarks in LA (like the Bradbury Building) or my hometown of Enterprise, Alabama (such as the Rawls Hotel), there’s an amazing presence of energy. Certainly spiritual in nature, as past entities can sometime choose to remain tied to physical spaces, but also, the energy represented in the materials and furnishings. For example, when examining stonework in an old building, one may not know the what-and-where of the earth-generated components or perhaps the interesting bio of the mason as well. Everything’s energy and connected. That’s what makes preservation and restoration so fascinating to me.
Last weekend, my residence, built in 1962, was part of a home tour celebrating mid-century design and architecture in Palm Springs. More than 400 enthusiasts visited my humble abode (and other Royal Hawaiian Estates neighbors’ too) and not only asked questions, but shared their own stories regarding this passion. After three hours of chatting about everything from lucite sliding glass door handles to vaulted ceiling beams, I was left alone to reflect on the positive energy that had previously enveloped my living quarters.
It was then that a thought came to me: Why didn’t I invite Diane Keaton?
Love and light,