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| NOT the actual Victorian |
- pilgrims in search of a home and undiscovered beauty.
- colonists looking to help develop, support and expand a new art scene.
- wanting a very specific sort of crib.
They were also blessed with beaucoup wisdom vis-à-vis financial crap. What they got was a HUGE, way run down Victorian in an area which, after ten years, continues to slowly evolve into an art mecca.
Their gamble’s paying off.
G and B have spent these past ten years rehabbing the shit outta their digs, doing much of the work themselves. G built all the shelving AND the extensive kitchen cabinetry himself. Damn, I’m impressed. There are layers of beautiful lace curtainry in all the windows. They’ve furnished the place with period (or period-esque) furniture found at auctions, junk shops, antique sellers and, yes, Home Depot.
The other thing they’re blessed with? Great taste. The furniture is offset by contemporary art as well as 19th century street maps of the town and outlying area.
The joint’s AMAZing. Also too – comfortable. Very. I allowed that Coco and I could hole up in their library, which, by the by, has an honest-to-Bast revolving panel of shelves. I'd spend my days reading, reading, reading. In the tiny morning hours, whilst everyone else slumbers, I’d sneak down the back staircase to snatch stray comestibles from their brill chef’s kitchen. They’d NEVER know I was there!
Why do I have this fantasy of a secret, hidden existence? The pressure of language, I suppose. Eh, that's not all of it. For as social as I am, I've a not insignificant introvert side. Always have. I'm all Jekyll and Hyde-y (without, generally speaking, the murderous impulses). I love having friends over. I'm wild about getting up and out, travelling – seeing new and old places. FRIENDS! And then I want to retire to my cozy, snug boudoir – my safe-from-the-world hideout.
I absolutely LOVE G and B's place. They've done an astounding job – it's gorgeous, fun, posh and très comfy – it's a work of art. BUT it'd be too vast for me. I'm sorta surprised to realize, at this late date, that my penchant for smaller digs isn't all about my barren wallet. It's actually how I'm bent. It's the way I roll.
I guess I was a Tiny Home freak before it was fashionable. Huh. Waddayaknow?
Their gamble’s paying off.
G and B have spent these past ten years rehabbing the shit outta their digs, doing much of the work themselves. G built all the shelving AND the extensive kitchen cabinetry himself. Damn, I’m impressed. There are layers of beautiful lace curtainry in all the windows. They’ve furnished the place with period (or period-esque) furniture found at auctions, junk shops, antique sellers and, yes, Home Depot.
The other thing they’re blessed with? Great taste. The furniture is offset by contemporary art as well as 19th century street maps of the town and outlying area.The joint’s AMAZing. Also too – comfortable. Very. I allowed that Coco and I could hole up in their library, which, by the by, has an honest-to-Bast revolving panel of shelves. I'd spend my days reading, reading, reading. In the tiny morning hours, whilst everyone else slumbers, I’d sneak down the back staircase to snatch stray comestibles from their brill chef’s kitchen. They’d NEVER know I was there!
Why do I have this fantasy of a secret, hidden existence? The pressure of language, I suppose. Eh, that's not all of it. For as social as I am, I've a not insignificant introvert side. Always have. I'm all Jekyll and Hyde-y (without, generally speaking, the murderous impulses). I love having friends over. I'm wild about getting up and out, travelling – seeing new and old places. FRIENDS! And then I want to retire to my cozy, snug boudoir – my safe-from-the-world hideout.
I absolutely LOVE G and B's place. They've done an astounding job – it's gorgeous, fun, posh and très comfy – it's a work of art. BUT it'd be too vast for me. I'm sorta surprised to realize, at this late date, that my penchant for smaller digs isn't all about my barren wallet. It's actually how I'm bent. It's the way I roll.
I guess I was a Tiny Home freak before it was fashionable. Huh. Waddayaknow?
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| The view from my Tiny Home when I got back yesterday. |
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