Cottage Comforts

Lisa Genesta pushed her curly hair from her face and said, “I’ve had one foot out of this house and one foot in it since the fires of 1993.”

Looking around her and her husband John’s Laguna Canyon cottage and neighborhood, one can easily see why she stayed, and, with a little imagination, why she’d want to leave.

But not on this day, with the sun shining on patches of orange and yellow nasturtiums, pink roses and bright bougainvillea. And dirt paths meandering from cottage to cottage, the hills a soft green punctuated with wild mustard plants and eucalyptus.

Go back a few months, and it was the scene of horrendous mudslides. Before that there were raging fires.

All that is forgotten in the rebirth of this rural neighborhood. This Sarah Thurston Park Neighborhood has had almost as many transformations as Madonna.

Sarah Thurston was the mother of Joe Thurston, one of Laguna’s original settlers and the man who bought the property in the 1920s, Laguna Beach historian Jane Janz said.

“Although there were Indians living in the canyon at some point, by 1871 there were no Indians around due to diseases. We have documented that the eucalyptus grove there was planted in the 1880s as part of a homestead that began in Canyon Acres.

“After Thurston bought the property, he turned it into a campground in the 1920s and ‘30s,” Janz added. “Part of the area was used as an open-air theater called Fairywood, where the Peace Pipe Pageant was performed in 1927. Many plays were staged during the late ‘20s.”

The 1960s brought hippies to Laguna Canyon, and Timothy Leary lived in several of the cottages in the neighborhood, Genesta said.

“I heard it was fun to see the flower children walking the paths around here,” she said. “This neighborhood always attracted artists and still does. Artist Andy Wing lives here; my husband, John, is an artist.”

The 900-square-foot house that Lisa and John Genesta live in with their son, Adam, was built in the 1930s. “Some of the bungalows from the 1932 Olympics were moved here and still remain,” Genesta said. Many more were relocated to Bluebird Canyon in Laguna, on streets, such as Crabb Lane, named after Olympic athletes.

Living in a historical area like this, the Genestas have been inspired to decorate their house with antiques and architectural artifacts. Owners of Ruins, an architectural salvage store in Laguna Beach, their tiny house manages to have a sophistication and style not evident in many larger homes.

“I think I fell in love with the house first, and then my husband,” Genesta said. John lived in the house for 15 years before they were married five years ago.

“We had horrific arguments when we first met about taste,” she recalled. “The things that brought us together were the architectural and the religious. We were totally opposite as far as decorating. He was into minimalism and Japanese Zen, and the house even had a Japanese porch on it.”

Not today.

The fenced-in front courtyard has a child’s slide, toys and wrought-iron patio furniture.

A tri-paned Gothic arched window adds architectural interest to the whole area. Attached to the master bedroom, it provides a view while offering privacy.

Dark, hardwood floors give a continuity to the small space. Living room pieces include a gold couch, an Afghan rug, 19th century American side tables and miscellaneous pieces of furniture from Romania.

“In the living room, we have everything from 18th and 19th century santos to religious tabernacle pieces to 19th century Transylvanian-peasant painted furniture,” Genesta said. “Our dining room table is a 19th century kitchen table from Romania, and coupled with it are Hungarian school chairs. It’s all kind of fun.”

The master bedroom is an equally eclectic blend, with santos, a bed covered with antique linens, and a leather chair with a matching ottoman.

“Things that come into our house tend to stay there,” Genesta said. “We haven’t put a tremendous deal into the house as far as finances because of the constant fear of ruin and loss. So instead of fine furniture, we’ve stayed with the primitive motif.

“Yet no matter what kind of stress there is during the bad times here, the whole neighborhood pulls together. And then we quickly forget when we see the spring and summer. It’s so beautiful and natural. There are no cars on the pathways, and [there are] lots of children for Adam to play with. In fact, it all reminds me of the old country in Romania. That’s why the furniture works in the house. This whole area is like a special, hidden village.”