What the eye wants
I went today to go look at a house for sale just down the street near Canal Street. It was cheap, so I wasn’t expecting much, and that is certainly what it was, not much. Mind you I love old New Orleans shotguns, but usually they are made out of cypress and pine and have characteristics that make them like fine antiques that you want to preserve and refinish and enjoy. This one seemed built on broken dreams.
I went ahead and parked and got out to see it, even though there was nothing about it that would make me want to stop. I wanted to check out the backyard because if I could put a bouncy house in back for Tin to play on, perhaps I could live there. There wasn’t enough room – I crunched over empty bourbon bottles on my way to look.
However, I got back in my car, disillusioned and as is the case with New Orleans, I drove to the corner and saw another house for sale – the haves and have nots coexist here. Now if I was drawing my spiritual house, it would look like this with the Asian flair to the roof wouldn’t it? – well sort of – I am not looking for grandiose, just beautiful.
I’m not sure what the answer is to home yet – but lots of options are swirling around in the air and I know the right one will come my way. The purple house, the spiritual house, whatever it’s name is, it will be home.