THEN THERE WAS BALTIMORE

I discovered the dilapidated barn just off a winding nowhere road, far from the city and its noises that sounded like both possibility and despair. Amid the dust and debris the grunts and snuffles of two resident hedgehogs welcomed us to their hovel as we emptied its forgotten and discarded contents and hoisted open the massive sliding doors.  

_____________________ 

It was this relentless whisper, “Write about Baltimore,” that came to me like a long-lost friend this past week. That it has been ten years wasn’t even on my radar, until I noticed the date stamp when I went searching for the images—July 28, 2014.

It never gets old, this awe and amazement at the revelation that the body always knows. It clocks the times of our transcendence, demanding that we remember, and remember I did.

I was satisfied with the world I had created in Napa, or at least I thought I was. And then there was Baltimore, running over like a steamroller all the little comfortable and easy parts of my uncomplicated life.

Here, wrapped up as a tantalizing and terrifying surprise, was the embodiment of my life’s purpose, twenty-eight-hundred miles from everything I loved.

If I have learned anything of transformation,  it is discovered in the places we least expect.

I was called to Baltimore two weeks of every month for a long season, to participate in the global conversation surrounding the preservation of our Earth through the repurposing of cast-aside materials into extraordinary works of art.

This vision of Regeneration—
The idea that all the worn and tattered parts can be reborn.
Isn’t it ironic that this essential work always begins with us?

“What sustains you?” I asked the founders of the Baltimore-based sustainability company who had invited me to bring soul to their brand.

A non-rhetorical question that demanded answer:
Isn’t it true that our lives reflect where our hearts connect?
No other motivation is strong enough to move us to where we need to go.

To understand [on a visceral level] the concept of sustainability, we must first look within ourselves.

The answers to my question varied—

My work. Travel. Nature. The love of my life.

Of all the participants in the discussion,
not one of them answered “faith.”

There is a prefix that attends nearly every relevant word in architecture, sustainability, building, and design. Two ordinary letters that capture everything about what I believe of creation in its human and highest form—

RE: Again. Back. Return. Repeat.

Regenerate. Restore. Rejuvenate. Refurbish. Reclaim.
Renew. Repurpose. Repair. Revive. Resurrect.

It’s the ‘RE’ that has an undeniable hold on me as I work my way through the contemplative minefield of a seemingly unsustainable hope.
”Again. Back. Return. Repeat.” How many times are necessary, we may never know.

It’s not surprising that this haunting—of a sweltering, sticky Summer in the city of beautiful and shocking contrasts—visits me in the midst of this breathless, inconstant, unpredictable now.

It is evident that I am craving the sustainability of His grace, the author of the ‘RE’—
He who is the Redeemer of all things.

In the spirit of this redemption, we launched the What Was Once, Is Now campaign—

Discarded Coca-Cola bottles melted and formed into breathtaking glass

Plastic milk jugs transformed into chairs to sit with life-long friends

Rusted and peeling ceiling tiles hammered into mirrors reflecting the soul

Salvaged reclaimed boat and barn wood fashioned into tables for connecting and breaking bread

What Was Once…now reborn.
If discarded remnants and bits of trash…then why not us?
Why. Not. Us.

This is where I ask,

What Sustains You?

Rest in the knowledge that even in your lowest, darkest, moment, He’s in the business of restoring…and he’s restoring you.

NOTES:

It’s not by accident that the best words in design are also ones most-often associated with how our Creator works like a master craftsman to forge a new creation in us—Reclaimed. Redeemed. Restored.

Maybe after reading this you will look at the idea of sustainability differently, not as something outside of yourself, but a essential part of who you are in Him.

What qualities of your character sustain you in the hard moment?
How does He sustain you when you are at the end of yourself?

The What Was Once, Is Now story of restoration and rebirth is one that bears witness to every one of us as we allow ourselves to be transformed.

One of my favorite memories will always be the day of the photoshoot in the old country barn. It was just sitting there waiting for me to find it and these images speak to how delighted I am that we did. At the end of a grueling day of cleaning out, then staging, and photographing our wares, the sun began its descent behind a grassy little hill…and in the distance two hedgehogs running toward me, toward the barn-home we had commandeered. Then, just before we lost our light, the fireflies appeared. And I danced with them just as I had as a child in the Kansas wheat fields.

What sustains me? Nature. His creation.
The creativity He has instilled.

I thought you might enjoy reading one of the hangtag stories of an exquisite, handcrafted piece that we brought to market through the What Was Once, Is Now campaign.

How would your personal hangtag read?

When a barn becomes a bed—

 Most barns tear up when they are torn down but not the ones we’re saving.

Thanks to scavengers with an eye for what could be, barn-savers across the country are lovingly deconstructing these dilapidated structures with another purpose in mind.

 As much revered as their barn-building brethren, barn-savers from Ohio to northern Kentucky and southeastern Indiana, are rescuing the stories imbedded in the weathered lustre of 70+ year-old planks of oak, poplar, hickory and elm.

There is satisfaction in witnessing the weathered lustre of rough hewn siding respectfully removed from falling down barns once housing livestock to become a coveted piece of rich history in your home.

Worn and twisted planks, proudly displaying the scars and patina of a lifetime, create a headboard that is really more work of art. From the barns of the backroads to the artisans hand, the Rustic Refined bedroom is authentically reclaimed—fill your room with story without ever speaking a word.

ABOUT THE IMAGES: The old country barn provided the ideal backdrop for our What Was Once, Is Now campaign photo shoot—plastic milk jugs become chairs, tree roots now wooden table and bowl, ancient boat teak wood creates a chaise, soda bottles blown into glassware, vintage ceiling tiles become windows to the soul.