...My Block of Thought:
When I was looking for houses, several years ago, I came across one that was under construction but the construction had completely stopped due to unforeseen financial reasons. However, it was not for sale. It sat for months before construction was picked up again but during the interim, I would sneak over and trespass. It was only a little more than half finished so you had to use your imagination for the most part. I loved the house. When you walked in, beyond the foyer, all you could see was a two story wall of glass that embraced a familyroom. Beyond it, only trees. It was like being outdoors. I would bring that vibe into My Paradise. I think it's natural, with the events of my childhood, that a home would be a significant part of my creating. Noting, that I love the home I am in now. I've nothing but appreciation for the abundance it represents but this is kinda fun so let's continue. Within the trees is an sanctuary. A sacred place to meditate, write and just hangout with myself under the stars. It seldom gets cold. I'm cold natured. Mosquitoes. What are those? It has a garden because what is Paradise without a garden? On a scale of 1 to 10, my garden is an 11. It is right outside the kitchen which rivals anything in Better Homes and Gardens. OMG, the library. I might have to take a cold shower if I get to deep in describing it. Well, not too cold. The mailbox is at the end of a long drive. I love the walk. On rainy days, I take an umbrella but I don't use it until I get the mail. The rise of the ozone is intoxicating. The nights are cool enough to light a fire. And there's a treehouse and in the treehouse...a library. A small one. The roof is solid and keeps the books dry when it rains. You can climb on the roof and look through the waterproof telescope. Also! In My Paradise, my assistant who is psychic (and great at organizing) reads my son's thoughts. He (my son) has his own space to be completely himself as do all the children but as they move on with their lives when they return to visit (which is typically often) we all just camp out in the treehouse. Suffice it to say, it's a big tree. The Tree of Acknowledgment. Ha! And no one can ever be cast out of My Paradise because the fruit is so abundant someone needs to eat it. Let's add a couple of deer to aid in the excess. Birds, of course. Squirrels (well behaved ones). And, of course, colorful insects of all shapes and sizes. I think I'll throw in a mountain and an ocean...wait. I just remembered something. When I was a young girl, my friend lived in a beautiful part of town. Behind her house was a "forest" and through the trees ran a stream. The green algae that grew on it gave the appearance of a path. I had no idea it was a stream at the time and I ran straight into it. I returned to her home soaked. But I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. My Paradise has both streams and paths and I know clearly which is which. And all are welcome to walk the paths or flow with the streams or...vica-versa.
When I was looking for houses, several years ago, I came across one that was under construction but the construction had completely stopped due to unforeseen financial reasons. However, it was not for sale. It sat for months before construction was picked up again but during the interim, I would sneak over and trespass. It was only a little more than half finished so you had to use your imagination for the most part. I loved the house. When you walked in, beyond the foyer, all you could see was a two story wall of glass that embraced a familyroom. Beyond it, only trees. It was like being outdoors. I would bring that vibe into My Paradise. I think it's natural, with the events of my childhood, that a home would be a significant part of my creating. Noting, that I love the home I am in now. I've nothing but appreciation for the abundance it represents but this is kinda fun so let's continue. Within the trees is an sanctuary. A sacred place to meditate, write and just hangout with myself under the stars. It seldom gets cold. I'm cold natured. Mosquitoes. What are those? It has a garden because what is Paradise without a garden? On a scale of 1 to 10, my garden is an 11. It is right outside the kitchen which rivals anything in Better Homes and Gardens. OMG, the library. I might have to take a cold shower if I get to deep in describing it. Well, not too cold. The mailbox is at the end of a long drive. I love the walk. On rainy days, I take an umbrella but I don't use it until I get the mail. The rise of the ozone is intoxicating. The nights are cool enough to light a fire. And there's a treehouse and in the treehouse...a library. A small one. The roof is solid and keeps the books dry when it rains. You can climb on the roof and look through the waterproof telescope. Also! In My Paradise, my assistant who is psychic (and great at organizing) reads my son's thoughts. He (my son) has his own space to be completely himself as do all the children but as they move on with their lives when they return to visit (which is typically often) we all just camp out in the treehouse. Suffice it to say, it's a big tree. The Tree of Acknowledgment. Ha! And no one can ever be cast out of My Paradise because the fruit is so abundant someone needs to eat it. Let's add a couple of deer to aid in the excess. Birds, of course. Squirrels (well behaved ones). And, of course, colorful insects of all shapes and sizes. I think I'll throw in a mountain and an ocean...wait. I just remembered something. When I was a young girl, my friend lived in a beautiful part of town. Behind her house was a "forest" and through the trees ran a stream. The green algae that grew on it gave the appearance of a path. I had no idea it was a stream at the time and I ran straight into it. I returned to her home soaked. But I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. My Paradise has both streams and paths and I know clearly which is which. And all are welcome to walk the paths or flow with the streams or...vica-versa.