We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Brad Holley a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Brad, appreciate you joining us today. Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?
One of the projects I had taken on during my life-changing 8.5-year mentorship was a backyard renovation for a family who had not-so-long-ago lost their child during an extremely tragic accident while on vacation. As the father of two young children myself, their story was incredibly relatable and I couldn’t help but feel deeply moved by it all. I found myself thinking about this family constantly.
I’m always thinking about my projects, around the clock. My brain never really stops thinking about a design project until it’s finally done and behind me. And even then, I’ll still get caught up in a self-critical loop thinking about everything I could have done better. But this project was different.
It was more than just thinking about design layouts, site challenges and workable solutions. What I couldn’t stop thinking about were the actual people I was designing for. I couldn’t stop putting myself in their shoes and imagining, not just the tragedy they witnessed and endured during what was most certainly the worst day of their lives, but the moment-to-moment tragedy they continued to struggle with every single day since. It’s years later and I still think about this family constantly.
The family’s main goal with this outdoor renovation project was to create a place of refuge in their backyard; a peaceful outdoor space to sit, to reflect, to remember, to process, to heal, and to make some new joyful memories as well. But they also wanted this to be a space that paid tribute to their late daughter.
The husband and wife provided a few details that they felt represented their daughter; her favorite color (purple), and her favorite creature (the butterfly). But beyond that, I didn’t have much information about her. And it was one of those unusual situations where I wasn’t sure how acceptable or comfortable it would be if I tried to pry for more. And with that, I began my process.
In my line of work, it’s crucial to personalize each and every design for the unique needs and lifestyle of each family, but personalization requires information. In this scenario, I didn’t have as much information as I would have liked. But the great thing about doing this kind of work at the height of the information age is, there is almost always something to be discovered if you know where to look.
As it turned out, this young girl had made quite an impact among friends, family and peers, because there was quite a lot that had been written about her in some public-facing places online. It was really heart-warming to read it all, and in a strange way, my own mind began drawing a living image of who this girl was. I think we have this really interesting capacity to learn about another person whom we’ve never met, yet still manage to feel a connection to them. And that was certainly happening with me the more I learned about her.
Despite the unimaginable sadness that they were experiencing after the loss, I just knew that as parents, it must have been extremely encouraging to hear and read all of the wonderful things that others were saying and writing about their child and the difference that she made in peoples’ lives. I would consider myself very lucky to one day receive even a fraction of the glowing testimony that this girl did.
Among the many memorials written about her, I noticed a pattern. Several people had left the same excerpt of lyrics from the same song, over and over again. I had a strong suspicion that this was meaningful, and I took a chance including it in my researched list of design considerations.
One of the major areas of the design was the swimming pool, and along the far side of the pool, I created a raised wall with a decorative, recessed area. The recessed area was to be clad with symmetrical, book-matched stone slabs (like granite or marble). And while this was a tall order to execute in the real world, in my 3D model, I manipulated a specific granite texture that, when book-matched along the line of symmetry, the veining in the stone created the distinct outline of a butterfly.
I then found a shimmering, real-world, glass mosaic tile that was a beautiful mixture of purple hues. It would have been enough to apply this all the way around the pool’s perimeter waterline tile and call it a day, but I didn’t stop there. Beneath the aforementioned “butterfly wall”, I incorporated that same purple mosaic tile into the pool wall and I spelled out the same set of song lyrics that I had taken note of during my research.
At the far, opposite end of the pool was the location of the spa and the fire pit. This is where the family intended to spend much of their time. And what I had created was a situation where they would be sitting in these two areas and looking across the pool at the butterfly wall and the song lyric, essentially stamped into the plaster, in their daughter’s favorite color. I felt really good about what I had created.
Due to illness, my mentor was the one who actually presented the design to them in their home, but I was told there were many happy tears during that meeting.
Later that week, I was given a message that I needed to call the husband and wife. I did, and they insisted that I come by their house to speak with them under the guise of saying thank you in person for the thoughtful design. I knew full well that it would have been easy enough to just say “thank you” over the phone. But given the circumstances, I figured there must have been more to it than that, so I obliged.
A few days later, I showed up to their house and I was greeted by both of them. As I stood in the entry way, they shook my hand, looked me in the eye and proceeded to tell me that, to them, my design felt like more than just thoughtfulness. They both felt very strongly that their daughter was trying to speak directly to them through the work I had done, and that upon seeing my design, they were both getting an opportunity to connect with her one more time.
In that moment, I didn’t really know what to say to them other than, “thank you” and “I’m really glad that it had such a positive impact”. I think I was caught somewhere between feeling humbled and completely surprised.
What <b><i>does</i></b> one say to that? What would <i><b>you</b></i> have said?
On one hand, it was the kind of scenario that could easily open up the gate for two people to have a deep and speculative discussion about some of life’s biggest questions; Who are we? What are we doing here? Is there some cosmic purpose to any of this? What happens when we pass away? Is there anything beyond the reality that we can touch, taste, see, smell and hear? Are there forces at work that we can’t comprehend? Planes of existence we can’t perceive?
In any other circumstance, I would have been chomping at the bit to engage in a discussion like this with, quite literally, anyone at all. But this wasn’t the time for that. Given their conviction and the solemnity of that moment, I knew immediately that none of my suspicions about the unseen mechanics of the cosmos mattered one bit. I silenced every one of my usual tendencies and I made the very easy decision to just live, with total respect and gratitude, in that moment with them, on their terms.
We made some small talk after that, said our goodbyes, and I left and got back into my car.
I planned this visit so that it would be my last stop for the day, and that meant that I had about a 20 minute drive to pickup my two boys from daycare. The whole way there, I drove in total silence, absolutely overwhelmed with this inescapable empathy for them and their situation. I imagined what it must be like to lose a child so suddenly. I imagined the grief of having to let go of the life you thought you were going to live with a specific person you were sure was going to be in it. I thought about the unfairness and the injustice of being a living being in our universe, utterly surrounded by unmitigated chaos.
I think it’s really easy to focus on negativity, especially in the face of something like that. And If I hadn’t caught myself as soon as I had, I think I could have easily gone into a dark spiral, obsessing over the inequity of existence. I also kept thinking about what they said to me; “…she spoke to us through you”.
It was such a lovely sentiment. In all honesty, I was honored and humbled that they would say something like that to me. But at the same time, I wasn’t sure I believed that. Could it have been possible? Maybe. Who knows? But all at once, I recognized what was really happening, and I was keenly aware of what mattered.
Here was a mother and father who were deep in the throes of grief. I can only imagine that in those circumstances, I too would be looking for every conceivable opportunity to hold onto my child–every chance to feel a connection with them just one more time. To experience the theft of that which is most precious and to resist the tyranny of such an irreversible injustice.
The truth is, the answer to the question, “Did she, or didn’t she?” doesn’t even matter. Because the reality is, the combination of things I chose to do to honor their daughter’s memory, led them to a moment where they got to experience something profound. That was the ultimate truth. The reasons why will never matter as much as the fact that they legitimately got to feel something special in the first place. And it all happened because of choices that I made.
After my drive, I think I parked somewhere out of the way, wiped the tears from my cheeks, collected myself, and eventually went inside to pick up my two boys. I know without a doubt that I hugged them a little longer and a little tighter that day, and I will never forget that experience as long as I live.
No matter how many amazing projects I get to design for the rest of my career, nothing will ever come close to the feeling of knowing that, for just a little while, I was able to soften the grief of two parents and create an unexpected feeling of connection to someone they had lost.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
Everyone has a story; experiences, wants, needs, hopes, dreams. My artform is to understand your story and convert it into the perfect outdoor space for your home. Swimming pools, outdoor living and cooking areas, entertainment spaces, fire pits, visual features, structures, walls, walkways, gardens, secluded escapes–I design the outdoor extension of a family’s interior lifestyle and I match it all perfectly to their home.
The goal is to accommodate every potential joy-filled occasion and give you a special place outside of your home to make a long list of unforgettable new memories. But I don’t just offer this to homeowners, I also serve architects, builders and landscape architects, interior designers and developers.
There are plenty of designers and builders out there who do what I do, but my focus (and what sets me apart) is on serving clients who want something truly extraordinary. There is a huge difference between doing a good job, and doing an exceptional job. And when you’ve experienced the latter, you know how valuable that difference can be.
But I didn’t always have the outstanding reputation that I do now. In fact, being a designer was never part of my plan. Heck, I didn’t even have a plan. The truth is, I unwittingly tripped and fell head first into this career, and it’s been the best accident of my entire life.
It all started with me falling in love with a 3D modeling program called “SketchUp” that a client had introduced me to back when I was working at a commercial construction company. I quickly became obsessed with this program and that led me to thoroughly exploring how to make better use of it.
During an otherwise unremarkable Google search, I stumbled across a job listing that I wasn’t even looking for. It described a highly-decorated swimming pool designer who was seeking a design assistant. I didn’t know what that meant, nor did I really care, quite frankly. But there was one specific sentence in the posting that jumped out at me and grabbed me by the shirt collar:
“You will use SketchUp 80% of the time.”
Being creative with this software felt like a game to me, and it was unfathomable that some poor fool out there was willing to pay me money to “play” around with it for a living. And because I’m not a stupid person, I immediately applied. It just so happened that the” poor fool” in question was Randy Angell. After getting the call, he and I instantly connected, and two interviews later, I got the job.
I had no idea that I was about to embark on an 8.5-year mentorship with an absolute master of this craft, which would change my life forever.
Randy is one of the very best to do what he does. Period. And not just in Dallas, or in Texas, or even in America–he is one of the very best in the world (fight me). And here I was, a total nobody with zero knowledge of design or landscape or swimming pools. And somehow, he wanted to bring me up to his level. Suffice to say he had his work cut out for him.
What I still appreciate most about him though, is the fact that he saw through the uncut stone with the rough edges. He saw that I was bubbling over with creativity. He saw my passion. He saw my drive. He saw my attention to detail. Maybe I didn’t know what I was doing (and that’s an understatement), but at least he saw the huge amount of potential in me. And luckily for me, that was enough for him.
He would spend the next 8.5 years cutting and polishing that stone. He would teach me about everything that I now have a reputation and a passion for; architecture, landscape design, construction methods and planning, classical design principles, bodies of water, equipment, hardscapes, softscapes, the overwhelming world of finishing materials, and how you properly bring them all together in harmony.
But there’s a crucial soft skill that’s arguably even more important than all of that. He taught me how to actively listen to clients. He pointed out all of the quiet cues that people give you when you’re meeting with them. There’s a whole world of hidden and valuable information that people don’t necessarily show you or say out loud. And learning this has made a huge difference.
At some point, Randy gained enough confidence in my ability that he eventually encouraged me to enter a notably difficult design competition. The “Million Dollar Pool Design Challenge” is well-known for attracting some of the most talented designers, builders and landscape architects from across the country. To say that the entries are excellent is an understatement.
I had been following this competition since it started. I was well aware of the caliber of work that was displayed annually. I thought it was an awesome idea, but I just hadn’t considered that I was worthy of being a part of it myself.
The idea is that you get to design a dream backyard for a hypothetical family at a different location in America each year. But the most intriguing part is that the construction budget is essentially unlimited. This means that you can design, quite literally, anything you can dream up, no matter what it might cost to build. This basically unleashes every designer in the country and invites them to apply totally uninhibited creativity, and the results are exactly what you’d hope they would be.
The first year I entered (2022), I was selected as a top-5 finalist among ~50 or so entries nationwide. The whole time I was thinking it was audacious or even “cute” that I should be competing against the very best in the country. So, imagine my surprise when I took home 4th place that year.
I was addicted. I counted down the days until next year’s competition, and then I gave it everything I had, building on my experience from the year before. And in 2023, I won the whole thing!
This was a season in my life where I had already been contemplating spreading my wings and departing from the safety of the nest I had been growing in for so many years. Winning the competition just so happened to occur at the same time.
Change can be scary. Leaving was scary. It represented uncertainty and a great deal of new-ness. But at the same time, it also represented immense possibility, and my big win put a very valuable spotlight on me which amplified that possibility. This really filled my sails and gave me a huge confidence boost. Before long, I had a number of opportunities opening up to me, and I was saying “Yes!” to all of it.
I was now getting the chance to work for and collaborate with some of the very best design and build firms from across the nation, and I was handling luxury design projects that spanned as far West as Hawaii and as far East as Malta. It was remarkable. So much was happening all at once. My demand was growing in several directions. But after a while I could feel myself losing my footing as the reliable and grounded father and husband that I wanted to be.
This is when I stepped back and simplified with intention. I focused my efforts on growing my own brand as a locally-focused designer with national acclaim. At the same time, I also teamed up with a local builder, “Texas Outdoor Oasis”, whose well-deserved reputation was really starting to take-off from their years of providing white glove construction and renovation services at very competitive prices.
The story of my once-in-a-lifetime mentorship, my talent and accomplishments, and my national and global experience could now be distilled down to a very simple and straight-forward offering to people right here in my own community: “Let me design a truly extraordinary outdoor space for you and your family.” And being partnered with Texas Outdoor Oasis meant that I now had one of the most reputable and reliable builders in the metroplex backing up my vision with meticulous, real-world execution. I had found a compelling, un-complicated and un-beatable combination.
What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?
If I’m being fully transparent, I’d have to admit that there is a small but selfish component to my drive. There is something that’s just so… “magical” about what I get to do. I essentially get to think up ideas; cloudy visions in my brain. But then I get to express them visually, to others, using technology.
I develop these visions into precise, detailed 3D models and then into construction plans. Eventually, a bunch of people gather in one place with tools and wood and steel and concrete and tile and paint and plants, and they bring the whole thing to life, right here, in the real world.
I have the immense privilege of getting to extrude an idea from my head and then watch it come to life in front of me. There’s really nothing else quite like that feeling.
That’s the selfish part. And while that’s always there, the bigger part of my mission has to do with people. I’ve seen the impact that my work makes on other people. I’ve seen every kind of positive reaction you can imagine. From giddiness and excitement to breathlessness and tears.
I think I’m driven by the connection I create with others and the good feelings I can provide. Let’s be honest, we all want to get paid to do whatever it is that we do. But it’s just totally different when your client wants to give you a hug, look you in the eyes and tell you, sincerely, how amazing your work is and how it’s going to change the way they’re able to enjoy some of their most cherished spaces. That too is an inexplicable feeling.
I think if I really tried to put my finger on why that matters and why I do it, I’d say it’s just the desire to spread feelings of joy. I just want people to be happy, and I put a great deal of thought into my work so that I can give people those unexpected feelings of joy and elation.
I don’t want to get on too much of a soap box here, but for starters, I think we can all agree that ripping our education system to shreds isn’t helping anyone. We were already doing a pretty dismal job of fostering an environment that encourages creativity. And now… I don’t even know what the future of education looks like, let alone the concept of supporting creativity.
But I digress. I don’t know about everyone else, but when I was growing up (and I guess, even now) I was surrounded by an attitude that said, “Only certain people are creative. You’re either born with it, or you’re not.” For a while, I’m pretty sure I even bought into this notion myself. But I’ve since changed my mind.
I think that creativity is simply a muscle, and the same way you can go to the gym and build your muscles by working them out, so too can you build your creativity by taking advantage of opportunities to use it. My gut tells me that the people we so often mistake as “having been born with it” are actually just people who had the immense privilege of spending more time with creative activities and endeavors and practicing the art of being creative. Simply put, they got to work out that muscle and become more familiar with it and aware of it.
It’s pretty well established that children’s brains are total sponges for new information and activities. We kind of know that if you want someone to learn something well and learn it for life, you start teaching them early while all of those young neurons are still making countless new connections across the brain each day.
And if that holds true, this would almost certainly be true for fostering creativity in every young person. But sadly, I go back to the word “privilege”. So many kids come from situations where they just don’t have the means or the opportunity to practice creativity. And over time, that “muscle” atrophies, and they just grow up assuming they weren’t one of the lucky ones who was “blessed with creativity”.
Having said all of that, I guess if I had a magic wand to wave over the situation and guarantee a creativity boost among the next generation, I would provide free, high quality early childhood education and daycare to everyone, filled with creative activities and experiences. I could write a whole book on the profoundly positive, cascading effects I think this solution would likely have on society at large. But I’ll focus on the question at hand for now. With the promise of an environment where every child has the opportunity to explore their innate creativity early on, I think you’d see the number of people who identified as “creative” jump way up in the long term.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://theundesign.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/brad_holley_designs_things/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/brad-holley-dallas-tx/
- Other: The builder I work with: Texas Outdoor Oasis https://texasoutdooroasis.com
Image Credits
Catina Hall, Ashley Holley, Brad Holley