The fixer-upper.

2013: I constantly talked about buying a fixer-upper. One day a friend casually mentioned that she knew somebody who was thinking about selling her house and that it might be just what I have been looking for.

I felt awkward picking up the phone and call a complete stranger to inquire about her house, but my friend stressed the urgency as the owner was about to put it on the market. So I did.

And here I am, almost two years later, completing one of the most challenging projects of my career: My family's home.

When I first saw the house, a ca. 1870 Philadelphia three-story Row House that wasn't well-loved or perhaps too well-loved, I was immediately drawn to the quality of light: The morning sun from the east penetrated the shattered, mucky window panes with such intensity that I could quickly appreciate its promise.