An Unexpected Beginning

People sometimes ask how Maple & Moss began. The truth is it didn't begin with a dollhouse. It began with a Christmas gift.

A couple of years ago, I bought a book nook kit for my son. The company happened to be running a buy-two-get-one-free promotion, and I remember thinking, "I might as well get one for my brother... and try one myself." That was the entire plan. The kit wasn't even meant for me. But somewhere between opening the box and fitting together those tiny pieces, something shifted.

At first, it was simply curiosity. I wanted to see if I could build something so small. Then curiosity became fascination. I found myself paying attention to the craftsmanship, the architecture, and the challenge of working at such a tiny scale. Before long, I was looking for another project. Then another.

What I couldn't have known was that those first miniature pieces were quietly leading me somewhere entirely unexpected. The first few projects taught me how to build. The houses that followed taught me something far more important. They taught me to look beyond the walls.

As vintage dollhouses began finding their way into my workshop, I realized they were never just old houses waiting to be restored. They carried traces of the people who had built them, loved them, and sometimes reluctantly let them go.

A handwritten note tucked inside a wall.

A carefully chosen wallpaper.

A room that had remained unfinished for decades.

Those weren't simply details. They were pieces of someone's story.

Looking back, I don't think Maple & Moss began with a single project.

It took shape slowly, through unexpected turns, meaningful encounters, and houses that refused to be just houses. Only later did I realize those moments weren't separate stories—they were chapters of the same one.

Sometimes people ask if I ever imagined this tiny hobby would become a business, introduce me to remarkable people around the world, or inspire me to write a book.

The honest answer is no.

I was just building a little book nook.

Funny how life works sometimes. The smallest decisions can quietly open doors you never knew were there.