Who She Was
Anna had spent years renting in Los Angeles. On paper, her apartments were “nice” — stainless steel kitchens, glass balconies, white walls. But they never felt right. Too cold, too temporary, too anonymous.
As a writer, Anna craved texture, story, and connection. She dreamed of a home that felt like it had roots in the California soil, something that carried the weight of history yet gave her kids the freedom to make new memories.
Their dream was clear. The path to achieving it? Not so simple.
What She Found
When she walked onto a hillside lot on the edge of Pasadena, most people saw dust and scrub brush.
She saw possibility.
“The land felt honest,” she told us. “I wanted a house that could match that.”
The Design
We didn’t just design for square footage. We designed for character.
- Rammed earth walls that aged beautifully under the desert sun.
- Olive trees and lavender instead of water-hungry lawns.
- A courtyard fountain that became the heartbeat of the villa.
Inside, we kept things simple: arched hallways, terracotta tile, timber beams. Nothing flashy — everything purposeful.
The Result
Today, the villa feels less like something Anna built… and more like something that’s always been there, waiting for her.
Her kids race barefoot across the courtyard at dusk. She writes with the windows open, desert light spilling across her desk. And when guests visit, the first thing they say is always the same:
“This house feels like you.”
Anna’s Words
“Every place I lived before felt borrowed. This one feels like it’s ours — permanent, rooted, true.”
