We’re often on the move — especially in the past six years — so home hasn’t been a stationary place for us. We haven’t had much of a chance to grow roots. Moving from one place to another made us a bit reserved when it comes to investing in a lot of things, especially furniture, which, ironically, has been my biggest pain point.

I love heavy, large sofas; sturdy coffee tables. I dream of owning several Noir, Arhaus, France and Son, AnthroLiving, and Peninsula Home pieces, and mostly eclectic. Nick loves industrial, and I’m all up for it as long as it’s in a moderate dose. We meet at materials and functionality more than styles, which, luckily, is much more helpful than I thought when it comes to compromising on how to style a home. This time, we decided we’ll build slowly, intentionally — until we find our most precious pieces — hence the half-empty apartment.

As creatives, we need space. We need room to experiment. The openness, although frustrating at times, gives us the freedom to build, rebuild, destroy, renew, innovate, and start again from scratch, even with the simplest materials.

Still, I can’t live in an empty space. It can be simple, but it mustn’t feel hollow. So gradually, I gave in and began filling it with small details: pillowcases, vases, plants, new wardrobe handles, blankets, bed sheets, and bits of décor. In the process, without even noticing, I began doing what I do best — I started telling a story.
And then Nick followed. He started telling his own — through tiny “manly” décor pieces, wall art, small improvements, and the things he built with his hands. Together, we gave character to an apartment that once felt too modern, too white, too vast for our taste.

Will we have time to fully build it before our next journey? I’m not sure. But I am certain of this — through every detail we’ve added, we’ve already begun shaping the next place we’ll call home.

I can already see it: it’s warm. It’s calm and inviting. Natural and light. Sustainable and nature-loving. It’s filled with God’s presence. It’s eclectic as the zebras and magpies — unexpected, harmonious, and uniquely ours.

From left to right:

1. Vintage Wooden Backgammon and Chess Set
A mid-century wooden backgammon and chess set — a timeless, family-inherited piece that has witnessed countless wins, losses, and the many grumpy and happy faces that came with them (mine included).

2. Mango Wood Globe
This is one of the newest pieces in my décor collection. I found it at a local décor and furniture accessories store in Skopje that sells Mica decorations, though originally it was made in India. The base is crafted from mango wood, while the meridian ring and axis are made of brass-toned metal; details that add elegance and a touch of vintage craftsmanship. The globe itself is made from durable plastic, featuring intricate cartographic details, including a legend of symbols.
In day-to-day life in our apartment, it stands proudly as a coffee table accent, but it mainly serves us as a charming tool for traditional learning. I love spending my quiet mornings with a cup of coffee, taking little journeys around the world — without the weight of a cell phone in hand.

3. Porcelain Swan from Geneva
One of my dearest pieces, this porcelain swan has taken decades to find its way into my hands. My mother brought it from Geneva in the 1980s — a city as timeless as this piece itself. As graceful as the lake’s real swans, it easily brings me back to the place I call my one and only true home. Over the years, it has served as décor, storage, and finally as a vase for my Peace lily.

4. Hand-Carved Soapstone Elephant from Uganda
This elephant figurine is a cherished gift from a pastor friend who brought it back from his mission in Uganda. Though it’s often used as a paperweight, I prefer to keep it as décor on my desk. Whenever I look at it, it reminds me of my friend’s heartfelt and sacrificial work and keeps alive my childhood dream of visiting Africa. In other words: it’s tiny in size, but big in significance.

I remember that one of the first things we brought into the newly renovated and vast apartment were the Kentia palm and the two minimalist art prints in beige and charcoal tones from Christian Modern. Jesus is the center of our hearts, and the centerpiece of our living space. The two prints are a daily reminder of His love, presence and protection. While both art pieces speak to us, my personal favorite is Jesus Heals the Bleeding Woman (third photo in the first row). It’s a visualization of my most intimate moments in prayer and talks with Jesus, and a testimony to my ongoing healing.
The other print is Faith as Small as a Mustard Seed Can Move Mountains, which depicts a hill terrace with a tiny sprout (of a growing faith) and Jesus nurturing it—what a powerful image it is!

The Parable of the Mustard Seed
"He told them another parable: 'The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.'" — Matthew 13:31-32

"He replied, 'Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.'" — Matthew 17:20

The Kentia palm has grown into a lush, elegant and gracefully branched tree. It uprightly and modestly takes up her space in the corner next to the art prints, as one more symbol of God’s presence. In the Bible, palms are often present throughout the verses; from kings to prophets to crowds, palms were used to glorify God, to celebrate and to praise. Mine grew into a promise.