Tag Archives: dream house

People LIVE Like THIS?!

30 May

Humbug. Yeah, I know people are wealthy, rich, loaded, covered, but gosh.

This kind of home–ahem–estate makes me just depressed. There’s my place and there’s this place. There are the regular suburbs and there’s this place. There’s a community pool and there’s this place. Oy to the vay. This is the kind of place that’ll make your cortisol levels nonexistent.  This is the kind of place that’ll make you look at LIFE differently.

Hope I can sell enough art/write a bestseller (or several) to get here. Soon already. Poverty and any of its cousins bite.


19 May

I’ll be heading back to NYC this summer to sell some art and raise some funds so that I can eventually buy The Compound.  That’s what I call my ultimate place to live and settle down: The Compound. It just sounds appropriate for someone who hates noise and neighbor drama and sharing property lines and seeing beaters sitting in nearby yards and PACK RAT thingamajiggies. This right-brain needs solace like water. I’m planning on kissing apartment life and all former vexing residential lifestyles (rented rooms,  longterm broken down Artist couch guest, mortgage terror) good-bye.

In The Compound there will be a huge gate with state-of-the-art security. There’ll be dogs (Weimeranders, Labs, miniature pinscher) for comfort and protection. There’ll be a recording studio for poetry and spontaneous combustions. There’ll be an in-house art studio. There’ll be an exercise room with a Bowflex to work off all of the starchy foods housed in my stainless steel behemoth with built-in ice maker. 

There will be bliss before I die, dang-it.