A backyard in Sherman Oaks. A pool that disappeared. In its place, a jewel-toned world emerged from nothing — cascading wisteria and wild blooms in violet, magenta, coral and green spilling from black architectural columns, trailing toward tables dressed entirely in obsidian. Saturated color against pure darkness. Lush against severe. This was a proposal designed to feel like falling into a garden at midnight. The answer was always going to be yes.