porch: (noun) an addition to a dwelling that allows for a covered seating area. e.g. “meet you out on the porch” / (verb) filling up your cup; resting your bones e.g. “let’s porch this”

a porch is a place. a porch is a feeling.  a porch is where nature meets man-made.  it is a room “missing” a few walls.  that is just the start of what a porch is + can be.  there is no wrong way to do a porch (other than to not do it at all).  when you need a place to sit, to stop, to crossword, to relax, to talk, to listen….to be, the porch is it.  a few simple actions taken make just as big a difference as the items found there.  from an architectural standpoint, each part of a porch has a story, each has a purpose + most of all, a function. some aspects are purely functional: a way to keep out the rain, push back the harshest parts of the sun, welcome in the breeze + enjoy the smells.  a place that is neither in nor out, coming nor going.  a place that is never meant to be everything, but somehow provides a vehicle to all that we need, whenever we need it.  like the fireflies that come by in the summer, or the sound of a late-season downpour.  it can’t be captured, only experienced.

most importantly a porch becomes a part of who you are, if you will take the time to let it.  it isn’t intrusive or distracting or demanding.  it is something that ages as we do + it is timeless in a way we can’t be.  a place where memories are made + remembered simultaneously. 

what makes a porch?  that is difficult to answer, yet easy for anyone to sense.  for one person it might be a rocking chair that invokes time with a parent or grandparent.  for another it might be a well worn spot of a family dog.  for someone else it might be a swing that can fly you to some destination you’re dreaming of or simply watching children at play in the yard.  whatever the porch elements, that feeling is what makes the porch, well the porch.  

x ink