A note from Toby, owner and builder of Beachhousewa
I recently finished Clark, the twin cabin to Lewis. The entire project was a slow, somewhat agonizing process that took almost eight years.
Agonizing because building a super custom home is difficult, and because the creative process that excites me is equal parts painful. I had a clear vision of the homes, the shared grounds, the lawn, game courts, and flowers. But the steps needed to complete the vision were less so.
I did not know that the irrigation alone would require over 7,000 feet of pipe, and the lighting an almost equal amount of ground wire. I only knew what I saw in my head, and I fought for it.
I think the trick is not being afraid to fail, or at the very least, not letting the fear keep you from trying. I learned things along the way I never considered learning. I took the budget and timetable, set it aside, and tried to embrace the process.
Not easy. Agonizing actually.
I’m sure, absolutely positive, there is a much easier way to do this. But I never found it.
So in the end, I had a hard-fought completion to a project I sometimes despaired of ever completing. I say this for no other reason than transparency. I wish the journey had been more sunshine and butterflies, but it was not.
What kept me going was a weird mix of stubborn optimism and refusal to give up on a vision I could so plainly see in my head, and so badly wanted to see in real life.
The ideas and the design are the fun part. Love that part!
The part where you figure out how to actually make that come about, less fun. The part where it takes months instead of days, painful. The part where you show up to check on progress and mostly what you see is chaos, hold your breath, count to three…
I took my time with the interior design. At the point when I finally got inside and started setting up furniture and decor, I had been building for so long that I felt zero urgency.
I would sit and stare at a spot and let it tell me if what I had put there worked. I bought plenty of items that never made the final cut. I wanted the completed version to feel unhurried, beautiful, intentional, right…
Living there four days out of the week for almost six months, I discovered the difference between the painful project I had started so long ago and the home that I was slowly creating.
I would look around the room in the evening after I had finished for the day and soak it in.
I forgot about moderation and explored extravagance. Color, light, life, I wanted it everywhere, as long as it belonged there.
Extravagance, intention, design, and balance. I looked for the intersections in every corner, every spot that said, “almost.”
All that being said, I never lost sight of what Clark was always designed to be.
Beautiful, yes. Intentional, yes. Comfortable, entertaining, a breath of fresh air, but always first and foremost, the home you would bring your loved ones to so you could connect, relax, and enjoy.
I may have agonized over Clark, but that is my nature.
What I want most for you is for you to enjoy the end result, not to notice the pains taken, but to feel the love and joy shared.
Moments where we are happy and enjoying the company of those close to us are rare and fleeting. Clark was designed to encourage and enhance these moments.
Clark is just an empty space until you fill it.
A home is only a home when love is shared.
When I say I look forward to sharing this home with you, I mean it.
The joy comes with use, with sharing, with the house finally becoming what I always hoped it would be, a place where people you love can gather, relax, laugh, and make memories of their own.
