About Jennifer
I grew up around people who built things.
That early education—in houses, horses, history, and the pleasure of making—still shapes how I see a room.
Construction was never an unusual world to me. It was part of the language of my family and the landscape of my childhood in Northern California.
I grew up near the architecture of San Francisco and Old Sacramento, fascinated by old houses and the evidence of earlier lives inside them. At home on our farm, I learned another kind of architecture: the practical structures people make because something needs to work.
Learning by making
The first things I designed were for horses.
At twelve, I was building horse jumps, spray-painting and repainting things, and helping my father build shelters and a barn from reclaimed farmhouse wood for my first horse, Darlin. I learned that an idea becomes real through measurements, materials, mistakes, and the willingness to try again.
That instinct followed me into houses. I have taken rooms through demolition and rebuilding, learning what exists behind the finished walls as well as what makes the final room beautiful.
History & curiosity
I want to know where things came from.
Ancient Egypt, Greece and Rome; European gardens and estates; museums, travel, antiques, old lighting, and the architecture of earlier California all taught me to look beyond fashion. I am interested in provenance because materials and objects can carry human stories into a new room.
Analysis & imagination
I approach a house like a puzzle.
There is a scientist behind the romance. My analytical and scientific education trained me to observe systems and solve problems. My creative side sees the possibilities. I begin with light, proportion, circulation, construction, and the architecture already present—then ask what the house and the people living there need it to become.
Equestrian life
The horse is authentic, but it is not a theme.
Photography, breeding, and importing European Hanoverian horses have been serious parts of my life. Today I live on a horse farm in Ocala. That connection gives Crown Equus its name and symbol, while the studio remains open to every home with an interesting story—from a historic farmhouse to a Florida waterfront residence.
“I don't design only for how a room will look. I want to understand how it is built, how it can work better, and how to use every inch of it well.”
Today, I bring the greatest value by developing the design, maximizing the potential of the space, guiding the details, and executing selected finish work that gives a project its character—while collaborating with appropriate licensed trades for broader construction work.
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