How Travel Inspires My Home Decor

Creating Everyday Luxury from Global Adventures

Every trip I’ve taken has found its way home with me, not as souvenirs, but as feelings. The way a place makes me pause, breathe deeper, and notice the textures, scents, and moments that make life feel abundant.

I used to think travel was something that happened elsewhere… a break from ordinary life. Now I know better. Travel changes how you see your surroundings, and for me, it has shaped the way I create and care for my spaces. The Beehive in Maine and our Florida home are both reflections of the places that have touched my heart: cozy, intentional, and layered with small luxuries that remind me to savor every day.

Coastal Calm: Maine Meets European Shorelines

At The Beehive, my home design is rooted in coastal simplicity, inspired as much by the rocky shores of Maine as by the sea-swept villages of the Mediterranean and the lava fields of Iceland. There’s something timeless about pairing whitewashed walls and soft neutrals with natural wood and woven textures. The sound of the waves kissing the shoreline rocks outside pairs perfectly with cozy throws and oversized wool blankets reminiscent of Icelandic winters.

It was in Iceland, in fact, that I fell in love with the art of coziness… or hygge, as the Danes might say. At The Retreat at the Blue Lagoon, the serenity of minimalist design met quiet luxury. I still remember the feel of the soft robes, the glow of candlelight, and the beautiful simplicity of the Schott Zwiesel wine glasses that we used during our stay. When I found the same glasses online, they became our everyday stemware, small reminders of that Icelandic calm woven into our home life.

The colors of Maine, the deep greens, driftwood grays, and seafoam whites, blend seamlessly with the relaxed elegance of the Mediterranean. It’s a meeting of worlds: coastal Maine’s natural textures and Positano’s bright, joyful palette. In Positano, James and I shared bowls of lemon pasta in simple ceramic pasta bowls that became an instant favorite. I searched for similar ones once we were home, and they now hold pride of place in our kitchen, often filled with seafood pasta or a simple salad eaten out on the deck.

The result? A space that feels collected, not curated. Each item has a story, each room a memory – from the woolen warmth of Iceland to the breezy charm of Italy.

The Warmth of the South & Spaces in Transition

Every home I’ve created reflects a season of my life, Louisiana, Maine, and now Florida… each infused with textures, colors, and comforts gathered from the places that have touched me most. The warmth of the South still lives in me, even here in Maine, and it finds its way into every cozy corner.

In our former Louisiana home, I had what I lovingly called my Vino Couch, a plush daybed surrounded by pillows, throws, and a small hammered lap table perfect for a glass of wine, a book, or a quiet evening reflection. That space became a ritual, a place to unwind and reflect at the end of each day. I carried that same spirit north to Maine, where I’ve recreated a version of it on our Louisiana cypress daybed swing from The Corbel in St. Francisville, Louisiana. It hangs in our “Below Deck” space…an outdoor retreat with paver stone flooring, gentle breezes, and views of the tide. It’s a place where time slows and conversations linger.

We dream of transforming the adjacent walkout basement into an Icelandic-inspired retreat, a calm, spa-like space reminiscent of our stay at The Retreat at the Blue Lagoon. I envision soft lighting, natural stone textures, and a warmth that contrasts the cool coastal air outside. A space for reflection, renewal, and grounding… a home sanctuary that carries the same serenity I felt in Iceland.

And while that transformation is still to come, I find comfort in the process. Home, like life, is always evolving. In each season, I take what I’ve learned from travel…the calm of Bali, the hospitality of the South, the clarity of Iceland, and shape it into spaces that feel both rooted and renewed.

European Luxury, Simplified

Europe has always reminded me that luxury doesn’t need to shout, it whispers through details. A freshly pressed linen napkin. The weight of a beautiful spoon in your hand. The quiet ritual of afternoon tea. My travels through London, France, and Italy taught me that true elegance lies in ease.

In London, I fell in love with the art of afternoon tea…not just the tea itself, but the ceremony of it. And it also reminds me of my departed English grandmother, Nanny. The delicate clinking of china, the aroma of freshly baked scones, the pause it creates in the day. Since then, I’ve made a habit of elevating even ordinary moments at home…stirring my morning coffee with the special silver spoons I brought back from that trip, and the inherited Royal Doulton dish my Nanny used each day for her tea, a small reminder to slow down and savor.

In France, I learned the language of refinement through simplicity. In Sancerre, the rolling vineyards reminded me that beauty often lies in restraint…in clean lines, fresh linen, and thoughtful presentation. And in Reims, sipping Champagne in Champagne felt like an initiation into everyday celebration. I brought that lesson home with me: to toast more often, to light candles for no reason, to make beauty a habit rather than an occasion. My inherited Limoges plates are among my favorite French treasures. Elegant yet understated, they come out for special dinners or casual Sunday suppers, reminding me that every meal can be art.

In Venice, I discovered a different kind of beauty, one steeped in light, reflection, and craftsmanship. Wandering through the narrow canals and glass ateliers of Murano, James and I chose a set of delicate Murano champagne flutes that now live on our dining shelf. They shimmer in the candlelight, their subtle imperfections a reminder of the human touch that made them. And instead of wine, our Italian ritual became limoncello after dinner, poured into the tiny antique glasses we found in a market off the Grand Canal. Those evenings…laughter, stories, and limoncello shared, taught me that luxury isn’t about formality, but about feeling present in joy.

It’s those subtle touches (candles flickering in soft light, reed diffusers carrying the scent of a faraway spa, plush linens draped over the bed) that transform a home from comfortable to extraordinary. I’ve learned that European luxury isn’t about grandeur. It’s about atmosphere. About creating a sense of serenity through thoughtful, tactile moments.

In the evenings, when I light candles and pour a glass of wine (or sometimes a mocktail), there’s a quiet joy that fills the space. The kind that only comes when you’ve learned to weave your memories into the fabric of daily life.

Bringing the Winery Home

Working in the wine world has deepened my appreciation for atmosphere, how sight, scent, and sound can transform an ordinary moment into something memorable. At Cellardoor Winery, I’ve learned that what guests remember most isn’t just the taste of the wine, but how they felt while sipping it. The music, the laughter, the conversation that lingers long after the last pour. That sense of thoughtful hospitality has followed me home.

Over the past few years, I’ve been fortunate to travel each January to Market in Atlanta, an inspiring treasure hunt for new finds to feature in the winery’s gift shop. I choose each piece with intention: items I would love in my own home, or smaller treasures that guests can easily tuck into a suitcase as a tangible reminder of their time in Maine. From elegant stemware and coastal-inspired candles to cozy linens and locally made treats, these pieces all share one thing – they tell a story.

At home, I try to recreate that same sense of easy luxury. A charcuterie board laid out with care, a bottle of Cellardoor Blanc de Blanc chilled and waiting, the glow of candlelight across the table. Whether it’s a quiet evening for two or friends gathered on the porch, the goal is the same: to make each guest feel seen and welcomed.

I’ve learned that the best kind of entertaining doesn’t require perfection; it requires presence. A thoughtfully chosen wine glass, a hand-poured candle, or a small vase of wildflowers from the yard can turn a simple moment into a cherished memory. That’s the same lesson travel has taught me again and again: luxury isn’t about excess, but about awareness. About curating spaces and experiences that make people feel good, at ease, inspired, and connected.

The Beehive has become our living experiment in that philosophy, a place where the refinement of travel meets the heart of home. From the reclaimed beams and coastal palette to the small comforts tucked in every corner, it’s a reminder that the art of living well is as much about gratitude as it is about design.

The Journey Home

If there’s one thing travel has taught me, it’s that life (much like design) is always a work in progress. Our Florida home is still taking shape, slowly becoming the sun-warmed, spa-like retreat I imagine. And the main house at The Beehive continues its quiet transformation, one beam, one brushstroke, one inspired detail at a time.

I’ve come to love this in-between season…the part where things are unfinished, yet full of promise. Each project, each trip, each moment of curiosity adds another layer to who I am and how I live. The Beehive and beyond, every home we’ve built has been influenced by somewhere else: a scent from Bali, a color from Iceland, a texture from Venice, a ritual from France.

Maybe that’s the truest souvenir of all: the way we carry the world home with us. Not in what we pack, but in how we see…and how we choose to live once we’re there.