A Spanish word that describes a space where you feel safe, at home and authentic. A place to which you feel a strong, instinctive, or emotional connection.
My view.
A Home Should Tell You Something
I believe the most compelling interiors are not defined by a look. They are shaped over time—by the people who live in them, the objects they keep, the places they have been, and materials that become more beautiful with age.
I’m less interested in visual novelty than in what gives a room depth: an unexpected object, the provenance of a material, a piece collected while traveling, the way bronze changes with age, or why a particular chair has remained relevant for eighty years.
The goal isn't a room that announces its designer. It's a room that gradually reveals the people who live there.
Materials Get Better With Time
A beautiful interior shouldn't expire when a trend does. I’m drawn to materials with inherent character—mohair, walnut, stone, unlacquered metals, linen, woven fibers—materials whose irregularities, patina and texture become part of the story.
My work.
Light. Texture. Tension.
I treat light as a building material.
Seeded glass distorts it. Woven rattan filters it. Punched metal throws patterns across a wall. Silk changes character as the sun moves through a room. Movement isn’t just a detail; it is part of my design process.
I’m equally interested in tension: something refined beside something primitive; an important vintage chair next to an inexpensive object found while traveling; a strong contemporary form against architecture with history.
I’m drawn to furniture with unexpected silhouettes—pieces that shift the energy of a room simply through shape. A sculptural chair, an exaggerated curve or an offbeat proportion can act like art, creating visual interest and giving the eye somewhere to pause. I like those forms best when they feel purposeful rather than theatrical: distinctive enough to be memorable, but still comfortable, functional and at home in the room.
These contrasts keep a room from feeling designed all at once.
Spaces With a Soul
The most interesting things in a home often aren't things a designer selected.
They may be a painting you can't imagine living without, something inherited from your grandmother, a strange little object you brought home from Mexico, or a chair you've owned for twenty years.
I don't want to design those things out of a room.
I want to understand why they matter—and build around them. Your home should be a reflection of the people who live there, not a catalog.
A deliberately small practice.
Querencia takes on a limited number of projects at a time. That gives me the freedom to look longer, source more broadly and make decisions because they are right for the room—not because they are fast or familiar.
I source across periods and price points: vintage dealers, independent makers, galleries, showrooms, architectural salvage and unexpected places that simply have something wonderful.
The result should feel collected rather than installed.
