2025 Limited Series

2025 Limited Series

6K

+18

mature themes

mature themes

Genres: Short Film, Documentary Style

Genres: Short Film, Documentary Style

This Show Is: Inquisitory, Emotional, Informative

This Show Is: Inquisitory, Emotional, Informative

E2 "What Makes a Space?"

E2 "What Makes a Space?"

Spaces are made. People are too.

Spaces are made. People are too.

Aaron: husband, realtor, stager. His days are spent shaping spaces, choosing textures, furniture, and artwork that allow strangers to imagine lives they could call home. Yet beneath every home, beneath every wall, lies a history, a story of what was. For Aaron, the story is one of redemption.

Aaron: husband, realtor, stager. His days are spent shaping spaces, choosing textures, furniture, and artwork that allow strangers to imagine lives they could call home. Yet beneath every home, beneath every wall, lies a history, a story of what was. For Aaron, the story is one of redemption.

Aaron: husband, realtor, stager. His days are spent shaping spaces, choosing textures, furniture, and artwork that allow strangers to imagine lives they could call home. Yet beneath every home, beneath every wall, lies a history, a story of what was. For Aaron, the story is one of redemption.

Aaron: husband, realtor, stager. His days are spent shaping spaces, choosing textures, furniture, and artwork that allow strangers to imagine lives they could call home. Yet beneath every home, beneath every wall, lies a history, a story of what was. For Aaron, the story is one of redemption.

Years ago, addiction nearly dismantled Aaron’s life. It wasn’t only alcohol, it was the loss of self. And yet, three lights emerged from his darkness: Faith, Bennett, and Fara. Through the decision to get sober, he discovered a truth mirrored in his work: spaces, like people, can be restored.


Set against Downtown Portland in the restored, historic Rinehart House, Aaron’s journey unfolds. Where walls bear nails to carry beauty, Aaron bore wounds that shaped him, rebuilt through purpose. Each home he stages and sells becomes a quiet altar: every piece of art selected from RSG not merely to impress, but to evoke, to tell a story, to heal.


This episode asks: What makes a space feel alive?
The answer is not square footage. Not design. The answer is the people who bring meaning to the walls, the art that holds memory, and the quiet transformations that unfold in between.


Through Aaron, proverbially, we see that people, like houses and spaces, can be restored.

Years ago, addiction nearly dismantled Aaron’s life. It wasn’t only alcohol, it was the loss of self. And yet, three lights emerged from his darkness: Faith, Bennett, and Fara. Through the decision to get sober, he discovered a truth mirrored in his work: spaces, like people, can be restored.


Set against Downtown Portland in the restored, historic Rinehart House, Aaron’s journey unfolds. Where walls bear nails to carry beauty, Aaron bore wounds that shaped him, rebuilt through purpose. Each home he stages and sells becomes a quiet altar: every piece of art selected from RSG not merely to impress, but to evoke, to tell a story, to heal.


This episode asks: What makes a space feel alive?
The answer is not square footage. Not design. The answer is the people who bring meaning to the walls, the art that holds memory, and the quiet transformations that unfold in between.


Through Aaron, proverbially, we see that people, like houses and spaces, can be restored.

Years ago, addiction nearly dismantled Aaron’s life. It wasn’t only alcohol, it was the loss of self. And yet, three lights emerged from his darkness: Faith, Bennett, and Fara. Through the decision to get sober, he discovered a truth mirrored in his work: spaces, like people, can be restored.


Set against Downtown Portland in the restored, historic Rinehart House, Aaron’s journey unfolds. Where walls bear nails to carry beauty, Aaron bore wounds that shaped him, rebuilt through purpose. Each home he stages and sells becomes a quiet altar: every piece of art selected from RSG not merely to impress, but to evoke, to tell a story, to heal.


This episode asks: What makes a space feel alive?
The answer is not square footage. Not design. The answer is the people who bring meaning to the walls, the art that holds memory, and the quiet transformations that unfold in between.


Through Aaron, proverbially, we see that people, like houses and spaces, can be restored.

Years ago, addiction nearly dismantled Aaron’s life. It wasn’t only alcohol, it was the loss of self. And yet, three lights emerged from his darkness: Faith, Bennett, and Fara. Through the decision to get sober, he discovered a truth mirrored in his work: spaces, like people, can be restored.


Set against Downtown Portland in the restored, historic Rinehart House, Aaron’s journey unfolds. Where walls bear nails to carry beauty, Aaron bore wounds that shaped him, rebuilt through purpose. Each home he stages and sells becomes a quiet altar: every piece of art selected from RSG not merely to impress, but to evoke, to tell a story, to heal.


This episode asks: What makes a space feel alive?
The answer is not square footage. Not design. The answer is the people who bring meaning to the walls, the art that holds memory, and the quiet transformations that unfold in between.


Through Aaron, proverbially, we see that people, like houses and spaces, can be restored.

Featured in this Episode

Featured in this Episode

Featured in this Episode

Aaron Moomaw

Aaron Moomaw

Aaron Moomaw

Portland Realtor - RSG Client

Portland Realtor - RSG Client

Portland Realtor - RSG Client

“Because when art is no longer held by people, it begins to float—disconnected, aestheticized, and ultimately, forgettable.”

“Because when art is no longer held by people, it begins to float—disconnected, aestheticized, and ultimately, forgettable.”

“Because when art is no longer held by people, it begins to float—disconnected, aestheticized, and ultimately, forgettable.”

“Because when art is no longer held by people, it begins to float—disconnected, aestheticized, and ultimately, forgettable.”