This is a very poignant moment for you to ask that because this year has been a huge transition and experiment for me. I’ve allowed myself to lean into not being well-defined. For many years it felt too overwhelming to try to explain to people all the things that I am interested in. My work crosses a lot of different fields, and that's what makes it better, not weaker.

When people ask what I do, I've been saying I’m a writer, a photographer, and a creative consultant. I'm hoping in this next year I can create a better container for all of the various things that I do, but in the meantime the easiest way to describe myself is just to say: I'm an artist.

My background was originally as a fine artist, then I went to a craft and design MFA program, where I better defined my inquiry into spaces and the home. I moved into event planning and community-building with Kinfolk Magazine, then became an art director and stylist, started writing books, and did floral design. Then I began doing professional photography, and now I'm coming back to environmental design and environmental therapy–thinking about spaces more. My ultimate dream is to move back closer to doing some fine art as well.

It took a lot of work to get here, but now I recognize that it's not just okay, it's actually necessary for me to embrace my background and to see it as an asset versus a hindrance.

The concept of the book I’m working on is spirited spaces–mostly homes, some gardens, some office spaces that are soulful and infused with personality.

We left our home in California on May 31 last year to travel while I worked on the book. The idea was that we were going to be gone for just six months, traveling all over Europe and the East Coast. And then this rental popped up on Instagram from a friend of a friend. I saw it–I didn't even know where it was–and I was like yup we're going there. That's why we're here. Part of it was that I’ve photographed most of the book and now I have to sit down and actually write it. The book will be out in a couple of years.

From an early age, I was sensitive to the spaces I was in. As a child, I spent hours arranging my bedroom to feel just right.

When I got into my MFA program in graduate school, I didn't really know what I was doing, but I was interested in making objects. I eventually realized that I was actually interested in creating environments and experiences, which had a lot to do with the idea of home. I don't think I realized it at the time, but it's quite obvious now.

A year before I went into that program, my parents house–the house that I grew up in–burned down in a wildfire. I was traveling in Europe at the time, and so all of my everything, all of my stuff was there in that house. That experience was so earth-shattering for me. It was like a full life-quake. I came back, and I felt so rootless and very confused about who I was–which was interesting because I'm not a material person. I think my belongings and the things that I treasured really helped me have an understanding of who I was. My belongings were like a mirror for me.

All that has fed into this idea of environmental therapy in the sense that I think we are so affected by our space, whether we’re aware of it or not. How much light we get, the belongings around us, the things that we treasure, the books we see, the music we listen to. It all so deeply and intrinsically affects us, and I have come to realize that the more we can create a space that truly mirrors and reflects not only who we are, but who we want to be and who we want to grow into, the better we feel moving through life.

The therapy side of it is what I hope to be thoughtful inquiry and prompting to get people to think about their homes as not just a catalog copycat with lots of nice objects, but What do you dream of happening in your home, what are the visions that you have for each room, what do you imagine being the thing that you want to happen there?

How do you create this really warm, inviting space for that vision, versus just emulating an image you love on Pinterest? The inspiration image is important, but you also need to consider what you want to feel in that space. What are the events that you want to see play out?

It's been a really special gift to talk to people about their home spaces and what they dream of. It's a moment to encourage people to rethink what they already have or push a creative imagination outside the bounds of what we often think of. Like, how can you take your kids’ artwork and put it on the wall in a special way that honors your kids and elevates your space?

It's a process. I’m less interested in telling someone what to do in their house and more invested in helping them trust their creative voice. I want to help people find that creative kernel and grow it for themselves, to trust it, and to trust that they have a creative voice.

So far, the people who have been attracted to what I'm doing ultimately come to know that part of themselves. I've just had to do a little bit of teasing to get it out of them. One woman told me I was like her “Home Doula” because I encouraged her to do the hard work of creating her space. I'm helping you along in the process and reminding you that you are capable. You have a creative vision and your own taste, and I want you to remember that it's safe for you to make your home whatever it is you want it to be.

I hope so. If we could all channel our inner childlike creativity and the freedom in that, everyone would be so much happier and healthier. This is my tiny way to help people do that.

I think it's a little bit of both. I've always sought out deep meaning and deep connection. It's very hard for me to exist on a superficial level with anything. I was a very, very obsessive reader from early on and had an interest in Story–big stories, big narratives, big-vision ideas. But I'm also very interested in the minute details that make the big stories come alive. Those are the connection points.

I am not a linear thinker; the way I describe how my brain works is very constellation-like. I'm always seeking out the connection points and moving seamlessly from connection to connection. When you think about a constellation, there are really bright stars and there are softer stars–you need all of them to make the image. Where I thrive is living in those connection points, whether it's with ideas or with people. Even in my work, a lot of things feel full circle to me. My current work always connects back to past work.

My first job was working for Kinfolk Magazine. The magazine was basically brand new and so everyone had to do a lot of things, but my core job was creating this dinner series that we did initially in the US and then all over the world. I was working with all of these people who were hosting events on our behalf, and I was privileged enough to experience such meaningful connections with all of those people from all of those meals.

In the past six months as I've been traveling for the new book I'm working on, many of the people I’ve stayed with or photographed or met with were people I knew from that experience working for Kinfolk 12 years ago. To me that is the richest part of my life–having these very meaningful connections with people that were resilient enough for me to feel like all these years later I can still reach out and continue to have a meaningful connection with them.

I also recently reconnected with a woman I met at a retreat Kinfolk hosted in Australia in 2013. We hadn’t seen each other for 11 years and then she emailed me right before we moved to the Catskills and said, “Hey Julie, I am hosting a workshop in the Catskills for two days and I'm wondering if you'd like to come be a guest speaker.” She didn't know I was coming to the Catskills, I barely knew I was coming, and yet she was hosting this event an hour away from me and I was arriving three days before it started. Those are the most beautiful, serendipitous connections of life that make me happy. Those connections make the world go round, and I feel like my whole life is predicated on these deep, rich, vibrant moments of connection with people. It’s what I value most in life.

It makes me think about the idea of “home.” Home is very much a physical space–it can be the place that we fill with objects and things we love: art, music, smells, sounds. But as I've traveled around with my family since June of 2024, it's become so obvious to me that home is my husband and my two boys. We’ve stayed in a lot of different places over the course of six months. We’ve slept in almost 40 different beds, and if I'd been in any one of those places alone, they would not have felt like home. But because I had my family with me–the people I feel most myself with–every single one of those places almost without exception felt like home.