Sure, I follow fashion, but I didn’t save this photo for fashion. I saved it for the photography.

From the Lanvin show, photographed by Valerio Mezzanotti for The New York Times.

Am I the only one who watched the feature-length film of Horton Hears a Who! and needed a moment to savor the images of the city in the background? I remember thinking that our modern society looked so cold and clinical against the lighthearted, animated architecture of Whoville.

Then, my friend, Vanessa, tuned me in to Santa Barbara architect, Jeff Shelton. Not since I first laid eyes on Hundertwasserhaus in Vienna did architecture seem so delightful. Shelton’s buildings seem so organic, almost like they weren’t built, but grown, on location—reminding me of Gaudi, Hundertwasser, and… Dr. Suess.

A college professor once told us that we should always scrap our first idea. “If you can think of it that quickly,” he said, “chances are a hundred other people have thought of it, too.”

Based on that lesson, I never would have expected this poster to be such a hit. Of course, when the “client” is a best friend, and when the “project” is actually a surprise gift, it’s pretty easy to succeed.

The idea for this poster was set in motion months ago. I wanted to make something special for a friend who was moving away, and this friend, being an artist herself with an impressive collection of artwork already, is unapologetically sentimental. So I wanted to create something that incorporated her favorite memories, people, and places—and was worthy of adding to her art collection.

I borrowed the main text from a well-known piece of graffiti in town. The rest of the text, alternating between light and dark gray, was compiled over several months and from about sixteen people—all of whom were encouragingly enthusiastic from day one.

When I delivered her gift last week, printed, framed, and ready for shipment, I remember thinking that she was going to love it. I was wrong. She didn’t just love it. She went crazy ballistic. She was completely beside herself. Her total awe and gratitude was one of my happiest moments, not as a designer, but as a friend.

This morning we walked about a mile in this suffocating heat (boo) to pick up our new artwork from the framer (yay). I bought this piece, “Pathway in the Rain,” from artist Nancy Park Barnes several months ago. The photo doesn’t do it justice—in person, the various layers and textures are so interesting—and I love how it ties together all the colors in our living room.

Now, just to clarify, I would probably never have chosen the grass-green couches myself (“Astroturf couches,” as someone once called them), but we’re volunteers, housed in a clean, fully-furnished apartment, so we try not to complain. Instead, I’ve done my best to neutralize the green by bringing in various shades of beige, tan, and terracotta. Plus, to make it seem like the green wasn’t a mistake, I’ve sprinkled other green accents around the room.

It has worked out amazingly well—when people walk in, they don’t just see Astroturf anymore. Now if I could only figure out where to hang this piece…