Lorraine Genovar likes to think of her home, studio and garden as her sanctuary. It's a soulful place she has created over 14 years where she can move seamlessly between her art, home and the outdoors.
You may recognize her for her whimsical fiberglass-cast fish strung along Bayshore Boulevard next to the Jose Gasparilla ship.
But she is probably best known for her hand-painted, black-and-white photographs of Old Florida landscapes. Homosassa. Yankeetown. The Withlacoochee River.
"I have an affection for what I call the real Florida," she says. "Not the beaches or Disney World, but the kinds of places that are rapidly disappearing."
Genovar's images are haunting, resembling massive antique oil paintings forgotten in a great-aunt's attic. She is drawn to the spontaneity and truthfulness of photography combined with the richness of painting.
"A perfect marriage," she says.
Genovar works from a studio in a converted garage behind her 1917 bungalow just off Azeele Street in South Tampa's Parkview neighborhood.
Her casually hidden urban-garden and studio will be a prominent feature during the first weekend of the annual Pond and Water Garden Tour, organized by Pondscapes on S Manhattan Avenue.
Oddly, Genovar doesn't own a pond at all, just a magnificent Mexican fountain purchased on sale at a Hyde Park home store that was going out of business. She's typical of a lot of youngish Tampa homeowners these days: a creative-minded person with a strong sense of style trying to carve out an inviting living space on a modest budget.
"I'm not wealthy," she says. "My home is very eclectic. I maybe buy something every three years and try to fit it in."
In fact, she decided against the expense of a pond after mulling over what to do with a quiet corner of terrace. But tour organizers were so taken with her unique living compound that they asked her to participate anyway.
She agreed, in part, because the proceeds benefit the Humane Society of Tampa Bay. She adopted her 14-year-old mutt, Oprah, through the organization and believes in the cause.
"It's the best kind of fundraiser," she says, "because you don't have to put on an evening gown."
Just shorts.
And a pair of old sneakers.
Wander through her iron gate down what used to be "the longest driveway in the universe." It's now a garden path flanked by leafy, indigenous plants, and including an arched trellis wearing a tamed hibiscus bush.
"I have a long, skinny house plopped down on a lot without anything that amounted to much of a yard," she says.
In particular, she was challenged by the small, narrow lot, a problem a lot of people who own bungalows can relate to. She solved it by letting go of the idea that she needed a traditional suburban yard with grass. Custom-made cast stone now unifies house and studio, creating a tropical indoor-outdoor space.
No mowing.
And better yet, Genovar explains, the garden sets the mood for visitors about to step into her studio to look at her photos.
"People who love the outdoors and nature love my artwork," she says.
She hired builder Wayne Fernandez and architect Rick Penza to build a studio and darkroom space that welcomes creativity and thought. She painted the concrete floors with the shapes of tropical leaves from her garden. Her worktables are scattered with projects; right now historical Florida images - one of an old golf course in Sarasota - wait to be hand-painted.
Good jazz wafts from indoor/outdoor speakers.
You might want to linger.
If you do, Genovar understands completely.
"It's not that it's so grand," she says. "It's more that it's a surprise. When you walk in here you can forget about it all. It's like a little baby oasis."