About Reilly

Making my film took me from the refugee camps along the Syrian border to the halls of the United Nations in Geneva. Along the way, I learned something that changed the way I see the world: every space tells a story, whether anyone is listening or not.

A room is not a collection of furniture. It is a scene. It has mood, rhythm, tension, and release. It has a main character — the person who lives in it — and it should feel like it was written for them. The best rooms, like the best films, make you feel something the moment you walk in, even before you understand why.

I design rooms the way I think about a film scene unfolding: I start with the feeling and work backward to the objects. What should it feel like to wake up in this bedroom? What should a guest experience when they open the front door? What does a child need to see when they look up from their crib? The answers to those questions determine everything — the color on the walls, the texture of the fabric, the single unexpected object that makes the whole room make sense.

My work draws from everywhere I have lived and everywhere I have traveled. The sailboats of the Chesapeake Bay, where I spent my childhood. The iconic architecture of San Francisco, where I grew up. The riads of Marrakech. The adobe homes of Santa Fe. More than fifty countries, and every one of them left something behind — a color, a texture, a way of arranging a room that I carry with me still.

I believe the most beautiful rooms feel collected over a lifetime, even if they came together in a month. I believe a $25 flea market find can hold its own next to a $5,000 antique if it is the right piece in the right place. I believe in natural light, natural fabrics, and the courage to paint a wall a color that scares you a little.

I am currently taking on new projects in Los Angeles and beyond.