Connect
To Top

Life, Values & Legacy: Our Chat with Paul Neri of Westlake

We recently had the chance to connect with Paul Neri and have shared our conversation below.

Paul, really appreciate you sharing your stories and insights with us. The world would have so much more understanding and empathy if we all were a bit more open about our stories and how they have helped shaped our journey and worldview. Let’s jump in with a fun one: What is a normal day like for you right now?
Sure. Right now, every single day starts and ends with one goal: relaunching my business.
And I mean that literally. I’ve spent the past year updating everything — my workshop, my
truck, the name, the logo, the entire identity of the business — all while juggling client jobs and
trying to keep a roof over my head. I’ve actually been working on this relaunch in secret for
over a year, which is why I’ve been totally absent from social media. I could have shared the
mess, the in-between moments, the constant re-dos — but I wanted to keep it to myself. I
wanted to build it quietly, properly, until I could come back swinging with something I’m proud
of. Because hey — it’s fucking Hollywood. Everybody loves a comeback. Most days start early
— around 6 or 6:30. I get up, walk my three little dogs (one of whom has three legs and still
manages to be the boss of the house), eat something quick, and I’m either heading to a client
appointment or jumping straight into shop work. That could mean building something from
scratch, repainting a space I swore I was already done with, rewiring a fixture I overthought, or
just sanding a surface for the third time because I decided the grain wasn’t quite right.
Welcome to my brain. Around 4 or 5, I take a breather — hang with my dogs, pour a little
whiskey, cook something decent — but I’m usually back at it by 8pm. And I don’t mean
answering emails or making Pinterest boards. I’m working. I’ve done all-nighters. I’ve had 16
to 18-hour days that end with me collapsing into bed looking like I fought a belt sander and
lost. But it’s paying off. You’ll see in the photos with this interview: the updated truck, the
repainted signage, the rebuilt shop, my lounge space — all of it shows where I’m heading with
this business. It’s not just about handyman work anymore. It’s about building things with
intention. Painting, fixing, installing, designing — for me, it all comes down to creating
something that didn’t exist before. It just happens to involve plywood, wiring, and the
occasional power tool-induced existential crisis

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hey, I’m Paul—the hands, heart, and hustle behind Studio HomeStuff. I build. I design. I paint. I install.
And I do it all with intention, craftsmanship, and a deep respect for materials that have a story. Whether
it’s custom furniture, creative installations, or a full interior revamp, I bring a mix of precision and artistry
to every project. I’m originally from a small mountain town in the French Alps, but I’ve called Los
Angeles home for over a decade now. This city pushed me to grow and create something that’s not just
a business—it’s a reflection of who I am: practical, bold, a little unexpected, and always evolving.
Studio HomeStuff isn’t a team of contractors. It’s a one-man studio, rooted in creativity and built with
tools, sweat, and a strong point of view. My shop is where wood meets color, raw materials meet
concept, and traditional craft gets a personal twist. This year marks five years of HomeStuff—five years
of trial and error, passion, problem-solving, and building things I’m proud to put my name on. I’ve been
quietly working on a full relaunch: rethinking the space, refining the brand, and preparing to show it all
off. So if you’re looking for work that’s handmade, deeply considered, and a little outside the box—
Welcome to Studio HomeStuff

Okay, so here’s a deep one: What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
One of those ‘world-shaping’ moments for me was probably when I realized that you can pour a ton of
heart into your work, and not everyone’s going to clap for you right away—and that’s okay. It’s like the
moment you realize you don’t have to be everyone’s cup of tea.
For me, that was a kind of ‘screw it, I’ll do it my way’ epiphany, and it completely changed how I run my
business and see the world. So yeah, let’s say that.
Oh—and side note, this year I hit my 5th anniversary running this damn business. Between building
furniture, repainting my truck, and growing my showroom into a funky little art-cave, I’ve been slowly (or
chaotically) relaunching everything: new name, new logo, new vibe. This interview is the first time I’m
sharing that publicly. So yeah—it’s kind of a big deal!

Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
About five years ago, everything in my life fell apart at once. I went through a painful breakup — my first real love — and a few months later I was in a motorcycle accident that left me with a fractured wrist and a torn meniscus. I couldn’t work, I couldn’t walk normally, and I had no idea how I was going to pay rent. I was stuck at home for months, physically broken and mentally lost.

That’s when I realized that building, painting, and creating aren’t just things I do for a living — they’re what keep me sane. Without them, I completely spiraled. I lost weight, I stopped eating, I pushed everyone away. I hit a point where even my dog wanted to play one morning, and I didn’t have the energy to get up. That was the moment it hit me — if I didn’t do something, I wasn’t going to make it out.

The next day, I got help. I started therapy, went on medication, forced myself to eat again, and little by little, I got stronger. Six months later, the day I got my settlement check, I threw my cane away, bought my truck, and told every client I was back in business even though I was still in pain.

It’s been five years since then, and I’m still standing, still building, and still creating. That moment taught me that asking for help isn’t weakness, it’s courage. And every piece I build now is a reminder that I made it through.

I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What would your closest friends say really matters to you?
I’ve lived in Los Angeles for about eleven years now, and it’s easily the best decision I’ve ever made in my life, but adapting socially was also the hardest fucking thing I’ve dealt with in the past decade. L.A. has its own way of operating, its own rhythm, and when you come from a small town like I do, the way people interact here can be really hard to grasp.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met some of the most amazing people here. But at the same time, genuine connections are rare, and relationships can get complicated fast. For a while, I caught myself becoming the kind of person I didn’t want to be. Guarded, cynical, playing the same game as everyone else. Eventually, I realized that acting like that didn’t make me feel any better at night. So instead of trying to match that energy, I decided to be better than it.

After a decade here, I’ve learned that what really matters to me in friendships, relationships, or business are three things: respect, honesty, and kindness. I don’t care who you are, how much money you make, or where you come from, everyone deserves to be treated the same way. That’s how I treat my customers, my friends, and even random people on the street.

I’m not perfect, I have my moods, I get pissed off, I’ve made mistakes, and sometimes I want to tell people to fuck off but I’ve learned that dealing with any situation with respect, honesty, and kindness solves way more problems than it creates. That’s also how I run my business. It’s never just about the money for me. It’s about the human connection. My customers know that. Whether I’m building something for them or fixing a mistake, I’ll always be upfront, fair, and do my best to be a good person.

Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. Are you doing what you were born to do—or what you were told to do?
That’s an easy one. I’m absolutely doing what I was born to do.

I can honestly say I have the life I dreamed about as a kid. I’ve been fascinated by this country since I can remember, and even just coming here on vacation used to feel huge. Now I live here full-time, and yeah, sometimes I hate this city, but I still know how lucky I am to call it home.

I run a business doing something I’ve admired since I was a teenager even though, back then, I never imagined I’d actually be doing it. I remember seeing this woodworker from New York talk about his craft and his passion for building things with his hands, and I was completely fascinated. But it never crossed my mind that it could become my life. I didn’t think I had the talent, the patience, or even the kind of personality that could fit this kind of work.

At that time, I was studying basic sales and business, headed toward a regular job in a store or an office. I wasn’t chasing a dream, I didn’t even know one existed for me. But somehow, through a series of jobs, choices, and experiences over fifteen years, life steered me here to building furniture, creating art pieces, and designing spaces.

Coming from a small town in the French Alps, I wasn’t destined to be here. If I’d listened to what I was told or followed the “safe” path, I’d probably be living a quiet life somewhere in the mountains. But I’ve always gone the bold, risky way and yeah, it hasn’t always been easy. I’ve made big decisions that didn’t work out, I’ve paid the price, and I’ve learned from it. But the ones that did work out brought me exactly where I am today.

I’m 41 now, and I can honestly say I’ve done everything I ever wanted with zero regrets. Years ago, I saw a documentary where a man in his 90s said something that stuck with me: “When you get to my age, you don’t regret what you did, you regret what you didn’t do.” That’s how I’ve lived ever since. Even if I fail miserably, I’d rather fail doing what I love than regret not trying.

So no, I wasn’t told to live this life. I was born to.

Contact Info:

Suggest a Story: VoyageLA is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems, so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

More in local stories