Flamingo House

The name Flamingo House reveals itself the moment you arrive—etched in glass, a graceful flamingo stands sentinel at the front door, a symbol as bold as it is whimsical. This home was chosen for one reason alone: the proximity to water. The clients, devoted to their 46-foot yacht and the tranquility it brings, had long grown weary of the distance between them and the sea. They dreamt of stepping from their own backyard onto the deck of their boat. And so, when they found this property—with water deep and long enough to cradle their vessel—it didn’t matter that the interior spoke none of their language. The backyard whispered freedom, and that was enough.

They came to me not with indecision, but with intention. Both work in medicine, their days spent in the charged, sterile hum of the hospital. What they craved was the opposite—a space of softness and simplicity, where stillness could take root. They wanted warmth without weight, clarity without coldness. Above all, they wanted nature to lead. The great rear window, facing west, became our compass. It was to be the painting the home revolved around—a frame for sunsets that blush the sky, for trees that sway in every season.

So we let the color palette fall away, quiet and restrained, so the outside world could pour in and do the talking. The lines are clean, the spaces open, the light unbroken. 

In the end, the design wasn’t about what we added—but about what we made room for.