Design of an elsewhere…

As home.

Traveling next week to a place I have never seen, on a far different shore.  I’m going to look at a place and see if I can accomplish it.

The house.

The structure.

Another life.

It’s in a field.   The first I saw of it, which was several years ago now, I came back and back to it.  There is a romanticism to the landscape and a hardiness about who lives there.  It might have ghosts.  Certainly it might, given its age.

It could be green, and have a taproot that is mine.

What I like is that it’s pristine, and that it has struggled.  In some ways I see that as a metaphor for my own life in the last decade.  Already I see daffodils and roses, a white picket fence, pen and ink in washes.

Almost broken.


It has ten rooms.

Already I see tulips, and the garden, and a fire in the hearth.  Already I see the bath.  I found it, the most beautiful tub.

I’m going to do it myself, as much of it as I can.

And everyone would say I was a fool, but I don’t think so.

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