We embrace the idea of a Horse Whisperer, and a Dog Whisperer. Why not a House Whisperer? Indeed, houses and apartments … places tell us a lot about their souls and those who have lived there before us.

I’ve honestly not thought much about a house having a soul, but I responded viscerally, reading this Architectural Digest article about House Whisperer Marriette Himes Gomez. She speaks Housetalk — “the language a house uses to communicate its most intimate feelings.”

Bracing myself for an “oh Anne”, from my more conservative, rational-minded friends, I acknowledge that a four-year-old house in Southampton, New York probably isn’t telling Gomez that it needs — or wants — a total make over.

The house is a baby.

This photo queues up our imaginations for the rest of the Southampton house, living in relative isolation with the Atlantic on one side and ponds on two others. Let’s pretend!

While this house needed a facelift to suit the taste of the new owner, the original premise of the house was valid: to look rambling and quicky, as if additions came over the years.

Paneling was supposed to show cracks, and the sitting room—the “barn room,” as original architect John Mayfield calls it—was made to look as if it has only thin boards to keep out the wind and the rain, when, in fact, there are boards behind the boards, along with thick layers of insulation.

There is such a new house on Stovers Mill Road in Carversville … another addition-happy house, designed to look as if it sat across from the original William Penn Estate for centuries.

Personally, I get a lump in my throat, looking at the photo of this house. I lived on the East End for about 10 years, in a place now very chic, but not so much when I was there.

Wainscott is down the road, between Bridgehampton and East Hampton. In fact, I came to Carversville, because it reminded me of Wainscott, sans ocean of course.

Comfort Without Pretense

So many of the houses in Architectural Digest are very grand, but this house is not. Perhaps in our post-meltdown mentality, comfort and space without pretense will be important again.

One of the reasons that I love Carversville so much, is that there is no pretense. Land Rovers and Subarus share parking at the General Store and you never know who’s driving which vehicle, standing in line to pay … the old-fashioned way.

Believe it or not, you can run an account at The General Store. How’s that for a time warp!

The question I want to ask The House Whisperer is if she truly gets different stories from different houses? Does she meet mean and horrific houses … even if they are perfectly manicured and lacquered?

What about the art, the music, the TV shows played in a house? Does this change the personality?

Reading this story of The House Whisperer, I lingered over this paragraph:

“Years ago you just had plain white. Now we have a million shades of white. How can you characterize them? I need a good definition.” But that is a definition for the eye, not the ear. The entrance to Brine’s house, for instance, is white on white, the living room is creamy white, and Brine’s own bedroom has no fewer than five different shades of white. “We used so many shades so that the light would catch different shades,” says Gomez, “so that the room moves and has excitement, like a painting.”

Light-Hearted Living

Perhaps a greater appreciation of the layers of light comes with age … if you are still engaged with living, of course. I don’t recall being so impacted by the nuances of light when I was younger. I’ve described the Carversville light as being painterly, as if imported from Provence.

My goodness, one simple photo … and I’m wandering off into all the rooms of my life and memories. I’m thinking of Feanne’s favorite book: “Gift from the Sea” by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, which I finally read about a month ago.

“Gift from the Sea” speaks to us … just like this house in Southampton and the light in Carversville, and the waves crashing against the dunes in Wainscott.

Something is different in these northern places, because it’s not like South Beach …and I like South Beach. The light is different there and so are the waves. I wonder what tales South Beach condos would Tell the House Whisperer.

Wainscott Beach by DamienOMG! I just went to Flickr to find a photo of the Wainscott Beach.

Can you imagine that this was my sky for 10 years of my life … that I walked endless miles, wading in this very water!

Follow the photo to Damien, who has many more gorgeous photos of the East End. The Hamptons are about so much more than parties and fancy houses.

Seriously, does this sky care how many cars are in the garage or what happened on “Gossip Girl”? Not likely. But then, I guess my appreciation involves the process of living itself. Like so many things in life, we only truly appreciate them, when they are no longer in our grasp.

Some things are meant to be let go … like a truly bad marriage. Wainscott and this sky … well, I do believe that one should not covet that which is lost … but this photo hits me very hard. What majesty!

Let us toast The House Whisperer, who listens carefully to her surroundings, before she just closes the door one day and walks away.

Love, Anne