The Devil Queen

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

My Photo
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!

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Don’t Do Anything Precipitous

I don’t know what is wrong with me lately. I have a real itch to do something rash. You know, something like leaving work in the middle of the afternoon without a word to anyone, driving to the airport, and catching a plane to somewhere interesting. Paris. Morocco. Venial. Sure, my entire life would come crashing down, but it would be a hell of a lot of fun.

At times like these, I try to remember something my father told me. “Son, don’t go and do anything precipitous.”

Instead, I find myself indulging smaller, more manageable urges: buying a copy of Orlando by Virginia Woolf and having a fruit tart and café au lait for lunch. It’s nice, but it doesn’t address my itch to roam. Like can be hard for a trice cursed homeowner.

The quiet work of steady responsibility has its own rewards: routine, comfort, and a deeply abiding sense of safety. Still, it’s a real burden too.

I think I need an exit strategy. I think I need to indulge in some well-earned irresponsibility before I’m too old to enjoy it. Give me a year and there is no telling what I’ll be doing. I rather like the idea.

Remember, the end is always near.

Labels: ,


Blogger said...

run away for a cheap weekend...i have used this site (but double check the hotels...):

2:21 PM  
Blogger Gary said...

Come to Dayton and help me line my chimneys!

2:38 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

have you ever thought of creating a tarot deck? maybe its time for more than just death?

4:06 PM  
Blogger Maryam in Marrakesh said...

I am pro-rashness. In fact, come to think about it, my whole life has been rash. My motto is this: Live your life at risk.

10:38 PM  
Blogger John said...

ILU, thanks. Cool site.

Gary, be careful. You might get what you ask for. On the other hand, it might be fun.

Anonymous, actually I have. Back in college my wife and I started one but never finished it. These little yellow bastard would probably make a fun deck, but I suspect that they'd be liars. I suppose I could to the major cards and frame them. It's an idea anyhow.

Maryam, bravo!

Unfortunately, there are at least two of me. A rash John and a pointlessly responsible one; I've had the most fun (at the time) when the rash one wins out. Now, if I could just let the rash one win out, it would be epic (and messy).

9:35 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

Free Web Site Counter
Website Counter