A place to call my own, a place called home.

It’s been more than three years now that we’ve lived in our house, almost completely transformed from the house we bought. I saw through all the rotted wood, chipping paint, and overgrown landscaping and I could imagine serenity. I could see twinkly lights and flowers and I envisioned a sense of welcome, of light, I wanted to feel embraced by this place.

I was smitten with this little pigeon loft in the backyard daydreaming of owning chickens and watching more babies learn to walk while we made a life, wild in love and careful in purpose.

BeforeAfterTinyHouse

Before and After, on the left is the pigeon loft as it sat on the property when we bought the home. On the right is the aftermath of our dreaming, scheming, sweating, painting, planting and going for it.

TinyHouse

TinyHouse

TinyHouse

TinyHouse

TinyHouse

TinyHouse

TinyHouse

TinyHouse

TinyHouse

TinyHouse

This is what I do. I create spaces for souls to unwind. I haven’t always known how to say that out-loud. That *this* is what I do. I tell stories and I love houses and when those two things collide? It’s the storytelling of the life we live, where we live it. And I’m honored to share this with you, to do this for you.

xox
Jodi

5 thoughts on “A place to call my own, a place called home.

  1. The moment I saw your loft as I read through the post, I this emotion. I felt a release in my spirit and as I got to the end of the post, you said it; you described what I felt; the unwinding of my soul. I love the story you told through this space. Thank you for sharing your creativity.

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