Mount Zen is a studio of three. We treat a television install the way one treats hanging a single scroll: we measure the room, we measure the light, we wait for the wall to feel ready. One room a morning. One room an afternoon. We finish what we start.
Most installers arrive with the bracket already chosen and the placement already decided. We arrive with the bracket, but we choose the placement after we have sat in the room, watched where the light falls, and asked you which chair you actually use.
"The mount is the small thing. The placement is the rest. The placement is the room."
— a studio teaching, often repeated
A small set of services. Each is its own checklist; each is run in its own time. We do not run the living-room sequence on a fireplace, nor the fireplace sequence on a bedroom — different rooms, different attentions.
The everyday sitting. Studs found by hand and confirmed by sensor, anchors chosen for your wall, the screen levelled twice, the cord drop neatly tied to the console. The bracket is the one we would have chosen for our own room.
A pull-down or generous-tilt bracket that brings the screen back to where your neck is. Heat-aware hardware; on gas fireplaces, the placement waits until we have measured the surface temperature at peak burn.
HDMI and signal routed inside the wall via a code-compliant kit. The power outlet is relocated to sit behind the screen. Nothing visible passes between television and console. Patches left ready for your paint.
Swing, tilt, pivot — for the rooms where the sofa, the bed, or the kitchen counter is not on the same axis as the stud. We test the full range of motion with the screen mounted, every time, before we put the level away.
Soundbar bracketed under or above the screen, the audio cable threaded through the cord drop or the in-wall channel. Bring the bar; we bring the bracket, the fasteners, and the patience to find the same line.
Moving the screen to another wall, room, or home. We dismount cleanly, fill the previous anchor holes ready for paint, and re-mount in the new place. One sitting, no scars on the wall left behind.
The whole walk takes the span of an afternoon, which is unhurried. We do not compress the install to fit a second job in. The sitting is the appointment.
A photograph of the wall, the make and size of your screen, and a sentence about how the room is lived in. We answer within a working day with a fixed figure and the next sitting on our calendar.
You choose a morning or an afternoon that suits you, and we hold it. There is no second job booked on top of it. The window we send is the window we mean.
Cloths down, mount unboxed, studs marked. Before any drill turns on, we hold the screen against the wall and ask: is this the line? When you say yes, we begin.
Range of motion checked with you. Cables hidden, cord drop tidied. Cloths up, dust drawn, packaging carried out. The room is yours again, now with a screen on the wall and nothing else changed.
A small studio keeps itself honest by counting. These numbers are refreshed each season — never aspirational, never marketing.
"Slowly is the only
speed we know how
to keep."
Unprompted notes from the weeks after a sitting. Names are shortened, shared with the writer's permission. We do not ask for reviews; these arrived on top of the invoice, on their own time.
"They spent ten minutes sitting on the sofa before any tool came out. I think that was the moment I knew it would not be like the last time."
"The cables genuinely disappeared. The screen feels as if it has always been there. We have shown it to four friends; two are now waiting for a sitting of their own."
"They asked us to move the bed six inches before they would mount. Nobody has ever told us to move furniture before the install. They were right, of course."
Send one photograph of the wall, the make and size of the screen, a sentence about how you live in the space. A real person reads it. The reply lands within a working day with a fixed figure and the next open sitting.