My house is graffitied. I’m allowed to paint on the walls. Years ago, I started with a simple little scribble board in the bathroom. That’s where everyone is inclined to ink it. And it just grew. Down the halls, up the walls, carved into the tree trunks and benches, stick drawn into the wet concrete. The things people say. Thoughts. Moments. Memories. Souveniers glued in crevices. Shadows spray painted on the curtains.Yeah, I know it doesn’t add to the property value. I had to bribe the appraiser recently with beer and stories and sunshine to find tiny un-vandalized corners for his photo shoot, and judge me on my cover and not my contents…. But, he did me good…. “My sister is a hipppie in California" he winked at me when he left…..
But it adds to why I value my house….
Why I call it home….
The painted house….
And why the people that visit here
Are free
To be themselves…..
27 comments:
...did clink
that back door
out toward the walnut treeshade
and that tire swing
swung so low I filled heaven
in a mug of your essence
and drank until
the day came
to tulips in rain
till that swing swung
only to winter's breeze
blowing our summer to clouds
like that, you were gone
the summer gone
the tire gone
the tree cut
and a lazy red new house
sits splayed for it's new owners
young, drinkers of tulip rain
but they have no great tree
no tire
no swing
no summer with grace
to do what you must
to just
let go your hand
and
think I should send that to barb?
and of course this poem is so warm and cozy it feels like a home for eyes to kick back in. Great job.
Hey! When they (the world) discover beautiful you and your amazing art, your house will become the "And this is where Singleton lived..." It will then be priceless. Until then, it is "home sweet home" where everyone can come and be theirselves.. because love only grows when you are getting to know her.
Peace sweet lady... your door rocks!
Eric - Yes send me that poem to post...!!!!!!
Girl, one of these days I want to come and visit you. We can drink and beer and *clink* to being home and being ourselves.
Already got it. You have a better version than that, Barb.
That was a very nice first draft, though. Thanks, Singleton. You are indeed generous.
Crack a Michelob! It's on me!
w-o-w. and i thought my house was kind of cool. your walls are your canvas. and why not, afterall?
Would love to see more pictures of your home :)
eric.... you captured the neighbornhood. Where they are tearing down little bungalows to billed concrete villas.... and clearing the land flat to plant rows of box woods....
you caught the spirit in a butterfly net!
angela marie...."The Mermaid's gate"....
LOL! Yeah, it's not like a bucket of Kilz and some white paint could put this house back in order...it's a done deal...Can you just imagine the Realtor's face?
bardouble...well, we'll just have to put "party on the porch" on our calendars!
kj....The view from here of your home is totally cool~ and your backyard is from a fairytale! I loved getting a virtual sneak peek!
orhan...TY and you probably will! As soon as I fall in love with the new camera. Right now we're barely on speaking terms! :)
S., that is so freaking COOL!!!!
i love it! i remember the nipples too. :)
you are extraordinary! -and i love the thought, the line
"adds to why i value my house"
all you paint and write and love;
sparkles gold
love how you live!
you awake there, my very hip friend?
the poem looks great over at poet's corner. I thank you or dropping by and saying the right things. Damn, that was good. And your poem is great, od course.
if i ever own my own home i want to cover it with murals. this gives me hope.
Yeah, my favorite friends all have scribbled on houses...
One friend is trying to build a two story dome. I just heard the second story sort of plopped over when he was trying to build the dome part. Thye got it all hoisted back and he is soldiering on, begging me to come for a "visit" (meaning HELP!, of course...)
I used to do a lot of carpentry that people scrached and smiled at. Roofs that looked like turtle shells on pool houses... castle doors with wrought iron handles made to look like six legged geckos...
The hippies in California are all gettng rich...
Don't know how that happened...
katherine....
most people wonder what houses would say if the walls could talk....:)
mindy....Love you girl! Yeah that one-liner was a keeper! And ummmm, little mermaid on the bedroom door, yup, she's got 'em!
she....feel the love....
eric...I love that you are finding new avenues and have connected with bardouble, her world is a wonderful place and I know you are right at home in her "corner".....
peace out sleepless friend!
benjibopper....oh do it! And if you're not brave enough, I still have a few walls left....:)
scott...amazing thing about hippies, huh? It's taken us 40 years, but we're finally in vogue! :)
Oh, and I so want a psychedlic castle door...with creepy colored glass, and locks that creak, and a little pass through for love notes and pizza deliveries......
Amazingly, I did sleep! And I've been editing my new poem at the site. Once again, you were the one who brought up hippies and roller coasters. It just went: clink Just like that. Thank you for eveything, too, my friend. Last week was years ago...
justacoolcat...waiting on those alligators to do the front door ;)
singleton
did clink way too many glasses last night! I did. But I'm feeling good still, why complain?
Hope the alligators leave you be.
great blog...nicely done..pulled me right in. I'll be back~
eric....
ah, yeah, well Friday's are meant for clinking! And um, yeah, Saturday's too! Here's to it!
palm springs...Thank you, the porch door is always open!
i luv your home, it sounds like my insides...
keep on doodling
k
:)
karoline.....Then I love your insides, they sound like my home :)
perfect story, even more so with the stones playing.. miss you.. love that song.
mindy.....and the walls are playing that very same song,
Peace.....girl, you're on to it!
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