The Name We Inherited

The home was already called Villa Sol when we found it. We chose to keep the name instantly — without the language to explain why, only the feeling that it was right.

Later, another layer revealed itself.

Long before Casa Luna existed, while we were dreaming of one day finding a place in Mexico, I told Marshall that if we ever did, I wanted to name it Casa Luna — the moon. A simple intention. Nothing more.

Years later, without planning it, the home we ultimately purchased in Mexico already carried that name.

And suddenly there it was — Sol and Luna. Sun and Moon.

Two homes we did not name, yet somehow aligned with what we had quietly envisioned.

We didn’t set out to create a pair, a story, or a brand.

But both homes arrived with names that spoke to light, rhythm, and balance — long before we understood the connection we would eventually make between them.

Sometimes the meaning shows up first, and the understanding comes later.

The Labradorite Counters

In the kitchen, the counters are made of Labradorite — a stone that reveals its colours only when the light shifts. In certain moments it looks dark, almost understated; then the sun moves, light catches the surface, and suddenly blues, greens, and flashes of gold appear as if from nowhere.

Known for its connection to intuition and inner clarity, Labradorite became a metaphor for the evolution of this home — and for my own. As the space has shifted in design, purpose, and energy, I have shifted too. I believe others will feel that same possibility here.

I’ll admit it: at first, I thought I would replace the stone. Its darker tones weren’t what I would naturally choose for my minimalist aesthetic. But as I came grow my understanding of the properties of Labradorite — what it holds, what it reveals — its appearance mattered less than its purpose. Now I can’t imagine the home without it.

Its beauty felt like an unexpected blessing from the house — a detail left by the land itself. And as Villa Sol began to take shape, I realized how deeply the stone mirrored the work happening here: the way people soften, open, and reveal parts of themselves when held in the right light; the way clarity doesn’t arrive all at once but in shimmering fragments; the way change is often subtle before it becomes undeniable.

The Labradorite didn’t just decorate the space.

It became a reminder that this home — like the stone itself — is meant to help people see more of who they are, and who they’re becoming.

The 1111 Address

Our address — 1111 · 3 Sunshine Coast Highway — carried meaning the moment I saw it. In numerology, 1111 is considered both an angel number and a manifestation gateway: a symbol of alignment, intuition, new pathways, and the moment when inner vision begins to take shape in the physical world.

The number 3 represents creativity, expression, and the energy of bringing ideas into form.

We didn’t choose these numbers.

But they arrived as if offering their own quiet guidance — a reminder that Villa Sol would become a place where intuition, creativity, and new beginnings would unfold long before we understood how.

In many ways, the address felt like the home’s first message: an invitation to pay attention, to trust the unfolding, and to build this place in alignment with something deeper.

The Restored Totem

A totem once stood on this land. When the previous owners moved, they donated theirs, leaving a noticeable absence — not just visually, but energetically. Marshall sensed it first: the land wanted that story to continue.

The totem that now stands at Villa Sol was restored by Darren Yelton, a Squamish Nation artist. His description of the carving brought a deeper understanding of its presence here:

At the top sits Thunderbird — a powerful, mythical being said to create the thunder we receive here on Mother Earth.

Beneath him stands Grizzly Bear — the one who brings strength to all people when visited by Bear.

Together, they hold stories far older than the home itself, honouring the people who have lived, fished, gathered, and cared for this coastline long before we arrived.

Their presence here is not decorative.

It is a gesture of respect — a quiet acknowledgment that the land carries a history far greater than our chapter of it.

The following spring — a season that happened to coincide with Marshall’s birthday — we held a small totem-raising ceremony to honor the piece and the land it stands on. Family and close friends gathered as the totem took its place, marking not just a moment of celebration, but one of respect, continuity, and gratitude.

Its presence here is not decorative.

It is a gesture of honor — a reminder that this land carries a history far greater than our chapter of it.

Watch a short film from the ceremony →

The Streams of Consciousness Garden

In the summer of 2025, we turned our attention to a small garden area near the front of the home — the first outdoor space we chose to shape intentionally. Until then, it had been overgrown with tangled, vine-like plants that never quite felt like they belonged. Something in the space wanted to be cleared, opened, reimagined.

With the help of our friend Ronalds — who has moved in and out of our lives for many years, often arriving at the exact moments when his hands and heart are needed — we began clearing away the old growth, pulling back years of vines and uncovering the rocks of the earth underneath.

As the space opened, so did the view, revealing a fuller, more expansive glimpse of the ocean from our barbecue area. What had once felt crowded and overgrown suddenly felt like it could breathe again.

What emerged was a rock garden that felt more like a landscape in motion than something fixed or decorative —a winding riverbed of stone, flowing toward the ocean below.

One afternoon, after looking at it in quiet reflection, Ronalds told me its name: “The Streams of Consciousness Garden.”

It felt true — a reflection of how ideas, emotions, and creativity move through this place: not always linear, often surprising, always flowing toward something larger.

In the spring of 2026, the rock garden will evolve again. We’ll be planting lavender and other natural herbs including rosemary, echinacea and creeping thyme — weaving scent, softness, and purpose into the stones. Plants chosen not just for beauty, but for the way they support ease, gathering, and rest.

The Streams of Consciousness Garden has become one of the home’s quiet metaphors: a reminder that transformation often begins with clearing what no longer fits, creating space for what is meant to grow, and allowing everything to flow toward the wider waters of one’s life.