Hi, I'm Tiffany — and This is Where I Make Things

Published by Designs of a Creative Soul

There's a version of me that spent twenty years waking up before the sun, standing watch, and making sure everything ran exactly as it should. I was a Navy Chief Petty Officer — E-7, cryptology and information systems — and I gave that life everything I had. I loved it. I'm proud of it. But somewhere in the middle of all that discipline and duty, the girl who used to paint and create and make things with her hands got a little quiet.

She didn't disappear. She just waited.

When I retired in 2013, I came home to Alabama with two decades of service, a deep appreciation for intentional work, and a creative itch I hadn't fully scratched since my days training at the Carver Creative and Performing Arts Center back in Montgomery. Slowly — and then all at once — making things became the thing I couldn't not do.

Truth is, the creative rewind had already started before I hung up my uniform. It

started with a birthday cake for my sister — one that went spectacularly sideways — and three Wilton classes I signed up for out of sheer stubbornness to master cake decorating. Years of custom cake orders later, I even had my own cake business: Swiss Meringue. That chapter reminded me of something important: I am someone who makes things. (I'll tell you the whole Swiss Meringue story one of these days. It's a good one.)

What I Make and Why It Matters

Every wreath I make starts the same way: with intention.

I think about who it's for. I think about what feeling it should carry when someone opens their door and sees it. I think about the colors, the textures, the weight of the materials in my hands. It sounds a little extra for a wreath, maybe — but I've always believed that the things we put on our doors and in our homes carry energy. They say something about who we are before a single word is spoken.

So I don't rush. I don't mass produce. Every piece comes from a studio I call Reverie Sanctum — my creative space, my thinking space, the place where I get to be fully myself. It's where discipline meets daydream, and where a retired Chief finally gets to make the rules.

A Little More About Me

When I'm not in the studio, I'm a licensed real estate agent in Alabama, a genealogy nerd tracing family lines back to the Revolutionary War, and a woman who believes deeply that creativity is not a hobby — it's a practice, a discipline, and sometimes, a calling.

I live in Pike Road with my husband, AJ (I call him Tim), and our three dogs: Tank and Jet, my salt-and-pepper and black Mini Schnauzers, and Penny, our Chihuahua mix who runs the house and knows it.

What's Happening Right Now

This season, I'm deep in something I'm genuinely excited about: a patriotic collection for America's 250th Anniversary in 2026. These aren't your standard red, white, and blue pieces. They're rich, layered, and designed to feel like heirlooms — the kind of wreath you bring out every Fourth of July and feel proud to hang.

I also just ordered an xTool laser engraver, which is going to open up a whole new world of custom elements — engraved wood medallions, personalized accents, and details that make a handmade piece feel even more one-of-a-kind. I'll be sharing that journey here as it unfolds.

So... Why Wreaths?

Honestly? I couldn't tell you exactly. There was no lightning bolt moment, no Pinterest rabbit hole I could point to. I just knew — the way you sometimes know things without being able to explain them — that wreaths were what I wanted to make. So I did. And it turned out that everything I'd ever learned about precision, patience, color, and craft had been quietly preparing me for exactly this.

I'm glad you're here. Whether you found me through a search, a social post, or a friend's recommendation — welcome. Pull up a chair. Look around. And if something catches your eye, know that it was made with care by someone who means it.

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It took me quite a while to see this for what it was. The training, the service, the cakes, the paint, the petals, the wire, and the ribbon — it was never scattered. It was always becoming. Some things don't announce themselves. They just quietly assemble — piece by piece, year by year, medium by medium — until one day you look at your hands and understand exactly what they've been reaching for all along. They say everything happens for a reason. I think it's more that everything happens, and eventually — if you're paying attention — the reason reveals itself.

Designs of a Creative Soul was my reason. It just took a lifetime of making things to see it.

Tiffany Designs of a Creative Soul | Reverie Sanctum Studio | Pike Road, Alabama