What Provence Reminded Me About Living with Intention

I returned from the South of France with a myriad of ideas, hundreds of photographs, and a renewed appreciation for the “simple life.”
In June, I spent time in Provence… a region of France I’d never visited. That’s not to say that this area hasn’t been on my “wanderlust list” for many years; we’d just never made it to Southern France before. While the landscapes are undeniably breathtaking, what stayed with me was the rhythm of everyday life.
As the founder of Trove Object Gallery, I spend much of my time thinking about craftsmanship: why certain objects endure, why handmade pieces feel different, and how our homes tell the stories of the places that move us. Southern France reminded me that these ideas don't begin in a studio or gallery. They begin in the way people live and how people carry forth their intentions.
Many of us have seen images of endless lavender fields in bloom. One morning, we drove through miles of lavender fields that seemed to stretch endlessly toward the horizon. Their fragrance filled the air long before we could see them. Beyond the obvious beauty, there was a calming, almost meditative, presence being surrounded by these glorious blooms. We strolled up and down the rows, taking in the sights and smells while reminding ourselves that many of life's greatest luxuries aren't things at all, but experiences that ask us to slow down and simply be present.
The same feeling carried through the vineyards of Provence. Called “domaines” in France, I loved the afternoon we toured two family-owned wineries where generations have cultivated the same land. There was no rush through the tasting; rather, our conversations evolved organically over tastings of rosé. The hostess complimented the wine with fresh bread, local cheeses, olives, and produce that had likely been picked that morning. Everything felt connected to the land, to tradition, and to the people who continue to preserve both.
But my favorite times happened in the smallest places. We found neighborhood restaurants that aren’t featured on Instagram. Not the restaurants everyone photographs, but neighborhood cafés tucked into village squares where locals greeted one another by name and you instantly felt like family. The menus were short and seasonal. Grilled fish, tomatoes bursting with flavor, zucchini blossoms, handmade pasta, olive oil, and perfectly chilled local wine were served without ceremony. There was confidence in the simplicity of a meal.
As I unpacked both my suitcase and my memories, I naturally reflected on the makers Trove represents. Whether it's a ceramicist shaping clay by hand or a glass artist perfecting techniques passed down over decades, the work shares that same respect for time. Nothing meaningful is ever hurried. And this thought reminded me that great design is similar. Our philosophy goes along with the idea that even the finest handcrafted objects don't compete for attention. They quietly elevate the spaces around them through thoughtful materials, beautiful proportions, and the evidence of the maker's hand.
Travel has always influenced the way I curate Trove. Every destination deepens my appreciation for handmade work because it reminds me that objects are shaped by landscapes, traditions, local materials, and generations of knowledge. That’s why I will continue to travel and explore new places and that is why I believe the most meaningful things we bring home from our travels aren't souvenirs… they’re pieces with stories.
I will treasure the wooden salt cellar that I bought from an artisan at the Saturday market in Aix and the leather catchall that I found in the sweetest little store in Eze. Those objects will forever remind me of the memories made. Perhaps they will also remind me to revel in slowing down… whether that means longer gathering around a table or walking in silence and taking in the peace that comes with being detached from electronics.
This trip was a “not so gentle reminder” that we should all continue supporting skilled makers, and surrounding ourselves with objects that carry meaning rather than simply filling space. In many ways, that's what Trove has always been about. Sometimes the best journeys don't inspire us to buy more. Sometimes those journeys remind us to live, and collect, with greater intention.
