The Last Ten Percent

Our beach house in Pearl Beach was a significant early project for us.

We owned the property for many years and transformed it in two stages. It began with a modest renovation before evolving into a substantial rebuild and extension after we secured development approval years later. The construction alone took almost two years.

It wasn't just another project.

It was our family holiday house.

When our daughters were young, ‘Pearly’, as we called it, became the backdrop to countless weekends and school holidays. It was relaxed, welcoming and designed for family life. A place to slow down and simply be together.

We loved it.

As happens with most families, life moved on. As our daughters grew older, Byron Bay became where we increasingly spent our time. We realised we simply weren't using Pearly as often as we once had, and it was time for another family to enjoy it.

We sold the house not long after completing the rebuild.

It sold well.

But I have one regret.

I never really finished it.

At the time, I thought a project was complete when construction ended.

I see things differently now.

The interiors at Pearly were intentionally simple—relaxed, coastal and family-focused. They suited the house perfectly, but I hadn't taken them as far as I would today.

I wanted to, but life got in the way.

Like many people juggling family, work and multiple projects, I was already looking towards the next thing. By the time we decided to sell, I simply didn't have the capacity to return and give the project the final attention I had intended.

The real estate agent organised the styling and photography.

The house presented beautifully and the exterior photography still captures the spirit of the property.

But inside, the project was someone else's interpretation.

The styling wasn't a continuation of my work. It was designed to sell the home.

That's when I learnt something I still think about today.

Real estate photography is designed to sell a home.

Editorial photography is designed to preserve one.

They serve different purposes.

Real estate photography asks, Would you like to buy this?

What I wanted was a record of the atmosphere, materials, craftsmanship, details and decisions that had shaped the house.

I hadn't created one.

That's why Pearly isn't featured on my Projects page. The imagery doesn't fully represent the work.

When I look at those photographs today, I see a beautiful house.

But I don't see the project as I intended it to be remembered.

Pearl Beach taught me two lessons.

The first is that finishing construction and finishing your creative work aren't necessarily the same thing.

There can still be another layer.

The details that give a place warmth, character and identity. The things that take it from technically finished to fully resolved.

I hadn't quite reached that point at Pearly.

The second lesson is about documentation.

If you've spent years creating something, make the time to photograph it properly.

Don't wait until you're exhausted. Don't assume you'll come back later.

People often say the last ten per cent of a building project is the hardest.

They're right.

Budgets are stretched. Energy is low. Everyone wants to move on.

But I've learnt that my last ten per cent isn't just defects and handover.

It's making sure the original idea has been carried all the way through.

And then documenting it before the project changes hands and becomes something else.

Pearly taught me that creating something and preserving a complete record of what you created are two different things.

I did the first.

I wish I'd made the time to do the second.