Casa Arcoiris De Anna -- Learning To See With Softer Eyes

This week, I received another full batch of photos.

To be honest -- my first reaction was not joy.

There were boards on the floor. Drawers half-open. Shelves unfinished. Angles that did not quite capture what I wanted. Lighting that did not flatter the rooms the way I had imagined.

For months, I have asked for clearer shots. Better framing. More intention. I wanted photos I could proudly post on my blog. On Facebook. Photos that told the story the way I feel it in my heart.

And for a moment -- I felt that familiar frustration again.

But then I paused.

The Powder Sky Room is no longer just paint and promise. The built-ins are there. The soft ceiling curve is real. Light enters through the window and touches the shelves gently. It is not staged -- but it is becoming.

The Blush Rose Room feels tender. The cabinetry stands steady against the pink walls. It looks quieter now. More settled.

The Lemon Meringue Room glows with warmth. Even unfinished, the yellow feels hopeful. The playful wall details are no longer sketches -- they are real and smiling back at me.

The Mint Meadow Room feels fresh and alive. The green walls hold the space gently. The pumpkin accents bring character. It is no longer just a vision I carried -- it exists.

The Lavender Haze Powder Room surprised me the most. Seeing the fixtures in place. Seeing the window framed. Seeing paint instead of bare walls. It felt like a small victory.

Are the photos perfect? No.

Are they the meaningful, carefully composed shots I have been asking for? Not quite.

But they show progress.
They show hands at work.
They show movement forward.

And I had to remind myself --

This young architect is only a couple of years older than my own daughter. Maybe she is still learning how to see the way I see. Maybe she is doing her best in ways I cannot fully measure from a distance.

Casa Arcoiris is still becoming.

So am I.

Maybe part of building a home is also building patience.
Maybe part of creating something beautiful is learning to extend grace.
Maybe part of growth is choosing to see what is working -- even when it is not perfect.

This house is rising.
Slowly.
Imperfectly.
Honestly.

And perhaps that is how forgiveness begins --

Not in grand gestures.
But in softer eyes.
In choosing understanding over anger.
In choosing progress over perfection.

Casa Arcoiris is teaching me that dreams do not have to be flawless to be real.

They just have to keep moving.

And maybe, in learning to build this house, I am also learning how to build a softer heart. Perhaps this home is not just teaching me about design -- but about grace, forgiveness, and growing beyond my own expectations. Casa Arcoiris may not be perfect yet -- but neither am I. And we are both becoming, one patient layer at a time.