The Devil Queen

How my wife and I sold our souls to the Queen Anne Victorian we tried to save.

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Location: Crow Mountain, Arkansas, United States

Synopsis: This is a cautionary tale. A seriously disturbed couple find the charming, old ruin of a Queen Anne Victorian in Russellville, Arkansas, and buy it for $1.00. They tore the roof off, cut it in half, and had it moved to some land they owned sixteen miles away because they didn't know any better. Since then, they have hired and fired contractors, had all of their tools stolen, re-wired, re-plumbed, insulated, and essentially rebuilt the entire house. Their only problem is that after four years it still isn't finished. Now they are tired, broke, and wonder what in the hell it is they've done to themselves. And, it's haunted.
(Last updated on April 3, 2008)

Press: Russellville Courier Article - December 2003, HGTV website article, AP story - October 2006, and Victorian Homes Magazine - February 2008 (link coming soon).
Art: From time to time, I receive requests for my art. If you would like to look at more of my art, go to The Failed Artist. If you would like to buy my art, email me. I am more than happy to answer any questions you might have. Thanks!

Monday, June 05, 2006


Sorry, busy weekend. I’m so tired that I can hardly remember who I am much less what I’m supposed to be doing. There are also a couple of previous posts that haven’t made it up yet since Blogger is gimped up and won’t upload my photos. Bastards.

Saturday my wife and I went to Little Rock to visit with my sister and her fiancé before they flew back to Boston that evening. Then we went to a Quinceanera for one of my wife’s cousins. I’d never heard of one before, so it was an interesting experience. It’s kind of like a Mexican version of debutant ball. When a girl turns 15 they have this big party/ceremony for them. It means that they are “officially” a young woman and ready to begin dating among other things. The event started at about 4 PM and was expected to run through until around midnight. The food was great. It was all handmade, authentic Mexican. I loved it. We ran out of steam by 10 PM, so we missed out on the three-milk-cake (tres leche cake?).

I learned another interesting fact while I was there too. The Social Security Administration considers a person with 1/8 Hispanic heritage to be a Chicano. I’m not 100% sure about this, but I think this means that you’d also qualify as a minority in the eyes of the federal government. That means that my wife could have technically received minority grants and scholarships for college. Too bad this little gem didn’t turn up 10 years ago. And, since my son is only 1/16 Mexican, he won’t get anything.

Sunday we made it up to the Queen for a while, and I worked just enough to wear myself out. I didn’t sleep worth a crap though.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe it’s the coffee (I read that caffeine poisoning can cause paranoia and dementia), but I’m feeling especially anxious today. I hope it’ll pass soon, it’s killing me.

More new, old posts once Blogger gets its crap together.


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