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!

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

The Fear

The last couple of days I've had this little bit of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas playing on repeat in my head.

"'I hate to say this,' said my attorney as we sat down at the Merry-Go-Round Bar on the second balcony, 'but this place is getting to me. I think I'm getting the Fear.'"

Yes, the Fear. Now I know what he means.

It really hit a crescendo this morning in the shower. No particular reason, I guess it was just time. Nothing like a jolt of panic before heading into the office, something to keep you sharp and twitchy before that first pot of coffee.

The problem is that despite my best efforts to synchronize the universe with my goals and needs, people keeping demonstrating a disturbing disregard for what I wan them to do. Some have even had the audacity to state that I am not the center of three-dimensional reality as we know it, which is rude to say the least. I've tried to be nice about it (not really), but that whole story of the God of Wrath and the Flood has been rather resonant with me. Consider yourself warned.

So, what's wadded up my delicate, little crack? Well, a these time honored holidays have been a little inconvenient (are chocolate extruding rodents that miraculous?), but scheduling a wedding three weeks before our bank (yet another nasty hot-bed of dissension) deadline? Intolerable and unforgivable! So, of course we're going to Oklahoma for the weekend.

Really, it (hopefully) won't be so bad. I don't think anyone in attendance will be out on parole, so that will be nice. But, I can still feel it coming, the giant crunch at the end of star's life. The time when its energy is nearly spent and it collapses in on its core and then explodes. Who knows what will emerge fiery hot and rough hewed from the wreckage?

In any case, I have a feeling that I will be burning through the last of my vacation time at work before the end is reached. Until I drive a couple projects down to the ground and cut their throat like a sacrificial bull, I'm not going feel good about things. I need some closure.

In the meantime, I toil. Here is my most recent work.



Tonight I have to stop to buy more white paint so I can finish these bloody ceilings. I'm praying that two coats are all they'll need.

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2 Comments:

Anonymous Julia said...

This may seem like a silly question, but do you have to go to the wedding? Impending doom might pre-empt partaking in the fun of a wedding. Or not?

12:40 PM  
Blogger John said...

Technically, I could probably get out of it, but since I wouldn't have anyone to watch Giddy, I probably wouldn't get too much done if I stayed home with him. Figure I might as well make a family outing out of it, and work like the devil Sunday.

9:03 AM  

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