Nine years ago, during a semester abroad, I found myself alone in the open courtyard of the Palazzo Medici Riccardi in Florence, Italy, surrounded by an ornamental grove of potted citrus trees.

I'd been wandering around the place all morning trying to find the elusive garden, and by the time I got there I was grateful to find it void of tourists and clicking cameras.
I love pattern. The bigger the better. The bolder the better.
Let’s just say that I knew the Virginia house I grew up in was different.