Maryam: Yes, I think the warm natural light, which is very particular to that part of the world, created a beautiful neutral background to my own photography, to my black and white photography in particular. That warm, almost rusty, afternoon rosy light takes over and almost creates a sense of timelessness and transience. I try, through my photography, to address feelings in an intemporal, bordering ephemeral manner, infused with a sense of melancholic nostalgia with a dash of romance. This house presents a perfect backdrop in visually highlighting all these sentiments.

Some of the photographs come from trips to this region as mentioned before, starting with the series 'Searching for Eve in the American West'. But many of the other photographs were shot in Mexico, and some near Big Sur, at the home of American photographer Edward Weston, Wildcat Hill.

It was a series where, after reading the 'Daybooks' of Edward Weston, I went searching for his original home near Carmel in California, a house where his grandson Kim, who is an amazing and very acclaimed photographer in his own right lives. We became very good friends with his wife Gina and his equally talented photographer son, Zach.

I entered their world, past and present, in a most intricate manner, living every instant to its fullest. I became fascinated by Edward's relationship with Tina Modotti, who moved to the West Coast in the 20s from Italy. The couple had a torrid affair, despite Edward being married with children at the time. Tina lured Edward to Mexico during the Mexican Revolution years. It was there that he would later forge connections with the likes of Pablo Neruda, Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo. It was such an interesting time in our cultural history, romantic and much fused with revolutionary fervour, passionate and creative. The story has inspired me personally in more ways than one, and I tried to imagine Edward's amorous gaze onto Tina when shooting the series 'Imagining Tina: A Dialogue with Edward Weston'. Some years later, I actually travelled to Mexico itself in the footsteps of Edward and Tina with Kim and two other photographer friends in the footsteps of Tina and Edward.

I don't know what it is about arid, barren, desert nature that attracts me so much. I love placing the figure of a woman in particular in stark contrast with that kind of landscape and creating a visual dialogue between the two. A female body is very curvilinear and when you place that kind of form or body geometry or even architecture as I like to call it, within the context of an almost hostile nature, it creates interesting tensions.

Throughout my work as a photographer, I've played a lot with this particular idea, not only in Mexico and Big Sur, but also in places like Iceland, Upstate New York and Provence, amongst many other locations. I just came back from Namibia, for instance, with its majestic lunar- like landscapes, the Skeleton Coast, and Sossuvlei with its overpowering sharp-edged red sand dunes, the oldest ones in the world. So inspiring on so many levels. These types of grand natural scapes have always attracted me. So I'm actually delighted to see that my photographs have in fact 'found their way back home' in a similarly grand New Mexican nature, where they belong.

Maryam: I picked Annie Morris’ sculpture, the first of this series the artist ever made. Annie's work by origin relates to the bump, the bump of creation. It's about birth, really. She’s talking about the act of motherhood intricately entwined with the act of creation. But I thought placing her work in this particular context made total sense, surrounded by the almighty mother, Mother Nature, endlessly echoing its chant throughout the surrounding imposing rocks.

With other pieces from my collection, I have tried to further this kind of conversation.

I wanted to also place the lone figure of Antony Gormley’s sculpture within this context. Again, because I fervently believe that amidst this kind of expansive nature, one really feels one’s humanity, individuality and spirituality. These happen to also marry themes often explored by Gormley himself.

Placing this work here really invites a dialogue; as humans, it speaks to how very little and insignificant we feel when faced with the power and presence of the nature that surrounds us.

For me, Richard Hudson’s sculpture presents the female counterpoint to that of Gormley. The ying to its yang. More curvilinear, less austere. My hope is that the two manage to find each other, not impose but rather complete each other, in form and in spirit, and in pure harmony.

In terms of design, I really wanted to celebrate American design - chairs by Frank Lloyd Wright and Nakashima, as well as Mies van der Rohe. Beautiful pieces that add to the American DNA and architectural canvas of the house. I included the Ribbon Chair by Pierre Paulin (even though it’s of French origin) in the library. I have always loved this piece and felt like it echoed the natural lines and use of organic materials used throughout the home.

"I'm obsessed with books. I've published, edited and collected them my whole life. I believe that books represent our collective memory. There isn't a day that I don't go and sit in my office and just take time to read"

Maryam: This is not specific to this project. I'm continuously running out of space in my own home. I'm obsessed with books. I've published, edited, and collected them my whole life. I believe that books represent our collective memory. I also like their materiality.

There isn't a day that I don't go and sit in my office and just take time to read. I'm surrounded by photography books. That's where I find a lot of inspiration. I read a lot of diaries and journals of artists and photographers. It's very much part of my daily life, and I can't imagine living anywhere in the world without photography books and art books. So, in building this house, it was important for me to have a space where I could do that, to bring titles of art history and history as well as photography and fiction. That truly for me, is my solace. It's my meditation.

Maryam: Yeah, definitely not lots of people. It's really a place of meditation, I think. A place of soulfulness, a sanctuary. I think that's the word I'm looking for. For me, this house would be a very selfish sanctuary. Truly!

My children, I would hope, my best 'creations' to date because they mean so much to me, and I so want them to seek and find some sense of serenity in this hectic, chaotic, and forever-changing world of ours. I can also see myself sharing this space with a significant other. You know there is something very romantic about this place where time has stopped. It’s a place that allows for the expression and experience of feelings – its light, its nature, the breeze. It’s a place that explores and displays sensuality in all its forms, especially in the use of tactile materials used.

Then of course with friends, because I'm a great believer in sharing moments, special moments with people, but only ever, you know, in small committee!

It's a massive space. That's why I called it a selfish Sanctuary; it's an indulgence!