Less structure.
More presence.
We don’t build to escape the world.
We build to live closer to it.
Six Blocks didn’t begin as a slow-living project.
It began with a piece of land, a few unconventional decisions, and a question we probably couldn’t fully answer at the time: what would happen if we built our life a little differently?
We weren’t looking for a perfect life. And we weren’t trying to escape the world.
We wanted less noise. Less rushing. More time close to nature and to the ordinary things that are surprisingly easy to stop noticing. We wanted more freedom to decide what mattered, what was worth our time, and what enough might look like for us.
So we started building.
A home. A garden. A place for the cats to wander. And, slowly, a different rhythm of everyday life.
From the outside, some of it photographs beautifully.
Morning mist over the fields. A fire burning inside while it rains. Apples from trees we planted ourselves. Cats asleep in patches of sunlight. A quiet evening when the rest of the world seems very far away.
But that is only part of the story.
Behind the peaceful mornings there is work. There are financial decisions, mistakes, tired days, uncertainty and compromises. Things break. Plans change. The garden doesn’t take care of itself. A house is never quite finished. Nature is beautiful, but living closer to it comes with responsibilities of its own.
A quieter life, we discovered, is not necessarily an easier one.
Sometimes it is physically harder.
And yet there is a particular kind of satisfaction in reaching the end of a difficult day and being able to see what wasn’t there that morning.
Something repaired. A tree planted. A piece of land cleared. A woodshed finished. A garden bed where there was only grass before.
Then another day comes, and you do a little more.
Perhaps that is part of what we were looking for all along.
Not a life without work, but a life in which we understand more clearly what some of that work is for.
Six Blocks is where we record what happens next.
The house and the land are part of the story. So are the garden, the animals, photography, food, places close to home and journeys farther away. Sometimes a story begins with something we built. Sometimes with something that went wrong. And sometimes with something as ordinary as a rose, an apple, an old photograph or a moment we almost didn’t notice.
They may look like different stories, but they keep bringing us back to the same questions.
What do we really need?
What is worth our time?
What are we willing to work for?
What do we carry with us?
And what does enough actually look like?
We don’t have definitive answers. Six Blocks isn’t here to tell anyone how to become happier, live longer or create a perfect life.
It is an honest record of testing a different way of living.
Less noise. More nature. A different relationship with time, work and the things we own. And a different definition of enough — including the price of making that choice.
There is beauty here. But there is also work, uncertainty and compromise.
We think both parts are worth showing.
We don’t build to escape the world.
We build to live closer to it.
Want to get in touch?
For questions, ideas or collaborations: