MY HOUSE

...is for sale.  I don't want to sell it.  I'd like to stay here forever and take care of it and fix things and plant things and re-paint and re-arrange the ten or so rooms and four baths.  I'd like to turn this big old house into The Wonder Institute and hold salons here and have writers read their works here and people meet in the big living room to solve world and local problems and to discuss philosophical issues.  If I could, in an ideal world (!!!) I would have a grand piano.  It would be in front of the giant, slightly garish mirror that was in the house when I purchased it six years ago. I would hold small, exquisite concerts here.  Sometimes my friends and their friends and I would move the big overstuffed furniture out of the way and roll up the rug and we would dance.  And dance! Experts in all fields would present workshops in this house, this Institute.  There would be workshops about painting and politics and poetry. Guests would share food and drinks and stories...We would gather by the fountain in the back patio or we would walk in the zen garden and meditation path that I meant to build...or we would sit on the west-facing portal and watch the sunsets...

It seems the sun is setting on those plans.  My house is for sale...

This big house is the one asset I own that could---when sold---free me from the unpleasant debt that I incurred during my time as an Art Gallery Addict!

Yes, an "Art Gallery Addict"?  A veritable junkie.  I became addicted to the remarkable artwork I had the opportunity and privilege to show.  I was always absolutely certain that I could sell it.  And because of that certainty...I paid for art fairs and advertisements on my credit cards.  I paid little or no attention to the insidious changes in the worsening world financial climate nor to the growing disarray of the big "A" Art Market. With conviction, I continued to plan and mount remarkable exhibitions.  Every exhibition at LDCA received great coverage, great and enthusiastic attendance, great reviews...but (alas!) we failed to make enough money to cover the costs of running the Gallery.  What then?  Well, like all sorts of addicts, I would (bravely, foolishly?) put the financial "failure" behind me and look forward, with unshakeable optimism to the next show---in which I felt certain I could recover my losses and march forward (ironically, Marchforth, LTD was the name of my corporation) with more brilliant art and more wonderful  ideas in mind and plenty of money in the bank.

But I digress...

Just now, I took a break and fixed a Greek omelette for a friend and myself.  That delicious omelette was cooked on--what my son Rocky, a professional chef, called, "the best stove in Santa Fe,"  six burners; two ovens; a grill; a salamander...My friend and I ate our brunch at a small table in the enclosed front garden among some mature trees and bushes and hanging baskets of lobelia and big pots of geraniums...we talked and watched the hummingbirds and then we took our shoes off and sat on the grass...and drank some lattes and talked some more.

Now, I am back here in my study.  I feel the soft light from the sunroom behind me.  My two cats are sitting in the open screened windows, watching the lizards bask on the warm rocks...This morning, just after a brilliant orange and lavender sunrise hike, my dog Ruby and I watched  five rascally ravens who had convened on the roof, over the library, squawking and talking..."nevermore..."

Oh, yes, my house will sell---perhaps on one of those upcoming perfect September days.  I wonder who will be the next owner?  Will they love the many perfect walls for art?  The skylights?  The five fireplaces?  I have a strong feeling that this unusual house will sell to a writer or a painter or a philosopher.  Surely the next owners will be creative collectors who love Santa Fe and all that it offers.  Maybe they will have horses and will want to fix the neglected stable on the property.  I know this singular (non-cookie cutter) house is perfect for a person who loves nature and animals and space and entertaining and quiet...

And when it sells, when someone special who wants a big and versatile house finds and falls in love with my wonderful house, what will I do?  Where will I go?  I'm thinking about a single line from an e.e. cummings poem that I have always loved: 

          
 "Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience.."