My parents met while admiring a Dali painting at the Philadelphia Art Museum, so it’s only fitting that art museums are among my favorite places to go for inspiration. Sometimes just a half hour or so looking at some great work is all I need to feel like I’ve had a real escape. When I lived in London (where most museums are free), I’d pop in just to look at a favorite painting for a bit before heading to my next destination. I love wandering through giant institutions like London’s Victoria & Albert or the Met in New York, but I’m more partial to more intimate, off-the-beaten-path collections. Some favorites are the Frick Collection (a real jewel box of a museum), with its gorgeous green Bronzinos and elegant Whistler portraits. Or the marriage of minimalism and nature seen at Donald Judd’s Chinati Foundation in very-out-of-the-way-but-worth-it Marfa, Texas. Or even the well-known-but-quite-hard-to-get-to Fallingwater Residence by Frank Lloyd Wright in Pennsylvania.

I had the opportunity to visit a particularly special art destination: the private collection of San Franciscans Norman and Norah Stone, known as Stonescape, an absolutely magical place hidden in the hills of St. Helena, California. Though Stonescape isn't open to the public, the Stones hold a fabulous annual dinner party for curators, collectors, writers and artists to showcase a recent installation of newly acquired works, displayed in their incredible Richard Serra-esque “art cave” (below).

At a place like Stonescape, one is immersed in both art and nature. Inspiration is everywhere, even at the dinner table. (Why can’t I get my lavender to look like that?!)

There are terrific touches of whimsy everywhere, like this tire fountain:

And the fabulous pink pants of a male party guest (he doesn't wear these at work—he’s a blacksmith):

 
But the absolute pièce de résistance is the installation the Stones commissioned by artist James Turrell:

See that box floating atop the infinity pool? Well, you need to swim to it, then under it, to access a square seating area inside. Once in, look up and you’ve got a private view of the changing light of the sky as only Turrell can orchestrate it. (For the party, the Stones generously heated the pool to a welcoming 90 degrees, encouraging post-dinner dips.)

During the event, there was as much going on outside the box as in it. Guests cavorted in paper-flowered swimsuits while a sound installation by Alex Waterman titled “The Ballad of Accounting” played. As the sun went down, a film/video installation by Elizabeth Wendelbo was projected on the cube. Things got ever more dramatic the darker it got outside.

Visiting unique collections such as Stonescape is one of my all-time favorite diversions. Any collector can acquire a checklist of great works—one Picasso, one Renoir, one Matisse, etc. But few are like the Stones, who have the confidence and vision to collect works that reflect their own particular quirks, desires and points of view. For me, it is those collections that are intriguing and inspirational.

I still remember a press junket to Sweden with IKEA years ago. The schedule was rigorous—a 15-hour journey followed by late dinners and early departures. Then about three days into the tour, they loaded us journalists on the bus and we set off for points unknown, ending up about an hour later at the Wanas Foundation in the Swedish countryside (photos courtesy of the Wanas Foundation).

[The Wanas Foundation featuring “Two Different Anamorphic Surfaces” by Dan Graham]

What was this place? Though I’d long been involved in the art world, I’d not heard of it before. To be dropped into it with no prior knowledge or information made the experience that much more amazing. Imagine sitting on a bus with the expectation of atwo-hour corporate PowerPoint presentation upon arrival, and ending up having dinner prepared by Alice Waters in the Egyptian Pavilion at the Met instead. It was like that.

Every hundred yards or so, we’d come upon another installation by a world-renowned artist like Louise Bourgeois, Jenny Holzer, Maya Lin, Dan Graham or Ann Hamilton. Seeing these works in such a unique setting was awe-inspiring.

[Maya Lin, 11 Minute Line]

[Louise Bourgeois, Maman]

Immersive experiences like these don’t happen every day, but in large part, I think it’s the pilgrimage-like aspect that adds to their allure. Of all the places I’ve visited, these creative journeys seem to stick with me the most.