The production board in Bonesteel Films’ downtown Asheville office is filled in with scheduled commercials and corporate video shoots that is the company’s bread and butter. Lining the walls are the posters from director Paul Bonesteel’s major projects — his 13 feature-length documentaries. His latest film, The Day Carl Sandburg Died, a moving tribute to the three-time Pulitzer Prize winning poet and historian who lived his later years in Flat Rock, has shown at film festivals around the country and aired on PBS.
As busy as he is, Bonesteel isn’t one of those compulsive filmmakers who work 24/7. There’s no edit bay or screening room at his home. He comes home to be home. There’s a lot to keep him busy there: wife Wyndy, sons Jonah and Luke, the thriving garden/orchard down front, the small veggie patch in the back, two small dogs, the new cat, and the four chickens in the chicken coop.
Your property is a hidden gem — 2-1/4 acres with total privacy, just minutes from downtown and a lawn that the British royalty would envy. How long have you lived here?
About ten years. We weren’t even looking for a house when a friend insisted that Wyndy look at the property. We saw it and immediately knew it would be ours. Our first house was a 1950s ranch-style. It burned last year at Easter time. So the house we live in now is almost brand new.
How does it differ from the old house?
We knew we wanted to rebuild but didn’t know how to articulate what style of house we wanted. Within a week after the fire, we hired architect Jason Weil and he helped us define our vision, modern with natural materials. Almost the same size as the old house — 2,600 square feet. Livingstone Construction was the builder.
It seems so much larger than that.
That’s because of all the windows. The old house had a big fireplace down the middle. The design of this house is open and spacious, more wide than tall — it gives us lots of windows on either side, so we have views every where we look. It’s thrilling.
How many levels?
There’s a small area on the top level for my office, and a play area downstairs, but basically the house has the same one-level living that Wyndy and I prefer.
How did you decide to decorate the interior?
We started visiting antique shops right away. Independently of one another Wyndy and I each were drawn to mid-century American furniture. We ended up buying several Broyhill pieces from the 1950s and they work perfectly in the new house. Again it was not something we planned, it just happened.
Were you able to salvage any treasures?
Most possessions were lost but it’s fascinating what was saved. I remember thinking on the drive home (from a Virginia vacation) after we learned about the fire, “Boy, I sure am sorry to lose my guitar.” I loved that 1992 Takamine guitar. I was astonished to find it completely untouched, and so was my mandolin.
What kind of music did you play?
I was in a folk-rock group called Chief Seattle. We had two releases in 1992 and 1995 and we just re-released them on the internet.
Another item saved was an antique writing desk?
This belonged to my grandparents, one of my favorite pieces of family memorabilia. Inside that desk I had filed mementoes of my early film career when I was making MTV videos in Atlanta. Saved were photos I hadn’t seen in years. Like me and Paul McCartney. That was cool.
A message to pick up your music again?
Could be. I do play the guitar at church every Sunday and as often as I can to relax, and music is a big part of my films.
Other things that were saved?
Another item that survived was really miraculous. Fifteen years ago we lost our 7-month old daughter, Maggie. Compared to her death, the fire was nothing. But in the rubble we found a painting of her. That was great comfort to Wyndy and me.
And some things have been replaced?
We are great admirers of the artist Dawn Rentz who we found in a River Arts walk some years ago. The first picture of hers we bought was entitled “Lost.” We were so pleased to learn that Dawn found a photo of that painting and will give it to us so we can treasure it again.
You have several soft African animal sculptures?
When we went to Ethiopia to get our son Luke in 2007, we bought a lot of these little animals as keepsakes and gave them to our friends. In the fire we lost them all, but dear friends gave us back the ones we had given them, so now we still have those lovely mementoes again.
How did it happen that you adopted a child from Ethiopia?
Wyndy and I had often talked about adopting and then one day we looked at each other and we said we think our son is in Ethiopia. We felt we had resources and an obligation to do something that was helpful in the world — and everything pointed in this direction. All of a sudden there’s a picture in your email of a little boy and you’re staring back at him. We needed him, he needed us. And that was it.
How old was Luke at the time?
He was only three and a half, still very young. He doesn’t really remember much about his life in Ethiopia though he wants to. We know he came from a village where they may have spoken another language besides Amharic and that his parents died. Not much else.
How did he and Jonah get along?
It was wonderful. Jonah was seven years old then but he became a big brother immediately. They’re very different of course. Jonah loves baseball, Luke loves soccer. Jonah decorated his new bedroom in cool colors, Luke chose bright red. But they’re brothers, in every sense of the word.
How have you all managed to recover from the fire so quickly?
My wife kept saying, “It’s only stuff.” Yes, some of that ‘stuff’ had deep meaning, but when it’s gone it doesn’t change who you are. The biggest lesson of the fire was simply the meaninglessness of that ‘stuff.’
Is there a silver lining?
Such a fire is a big re-set button. You can call it ‘speed-decluttering.’ I don’t advise it, but that’s what it is. All of a sudden you get a new house and new furniture. But mostly, we’re blessed — Wyndy and I — how many times do you get to redo your life with the same person?
Has it affected your creativity?
I think about Carl Sandburg when I think about being creative. Whether it’s at home or work, your mind or heart, tapping into the power of creativity has some connection with the divine. My two measurements of my work are I want to be creative and do work that makes a difference.
What’s your next documentary film project?
I’m exploring a number of ideas: one about a lesser-known regional figure who preserved some amazing cultural resources, another focusing on artistic collaboration through the story of a rock band that emerged out of the South to international fame, and maybe one about a kid from a small village in Ethiopia.
For more information about Bonesteel Films, visit www.bonesteelfilms.com.