Farfetched House :: Image – Google Earth
The front door was open when we arrived so I could hear faint voices and Neil Young’s album After the Goldrush playing quietly inside. We were greeted by my friend’s friend, and he motioned us to come in. A couple of other people were roaming around too and we all introduced ourselves. As my friend was talking to him, I walked around a little and scanned the spaces I could see, then looked to my right and saw that the south facing brick wall of the dining room area was blown out like a missile had hit it. The hole was at least twelve feet wide and seven feet high with rough edges because of the broken brick course. There was a woman sitting in an ornate upholstered chair staring into the green of the side yard through the opening. At first, it was unsettling. It looked like a scene from a movie set. I had a lot of questions about why there was a giant hole but I never asked. No one seemed anxious or alarmed, so I assumed it was intentional, plus the more I looked, the more it made visual sense.
It was a beautiful brick house with a covered front entry, carved wood columns, and ornate trim work painted white. The side of the house had a bay window, the large hole in the dining room, a visible kitchen and another covered side door which was detailed like the front entrance. There were some adjacent rooms I couldn’t see into, and a narrow staircase to the second floor. It had a big side yard that extended to a small shed and an alley, with an apple tree, pine trees, and juniper bushes that created a privacy hedge along the entire property to the south.
We weren’t there very long but it was enough to feel the space. There was a wide plaster crown molding in every room, tall windows, ornate wood window casings with corner fleurettes, high ceilings, brick and textured plaster walls, beat-up wood floors, minimal furniture, and large indoor plants scattered and hanging throughout. I spoke with the woman sitting in the chair while she smoked and I stood looking out of the blown-out wall three feet off the ground. It was like hovering and daydreaming in front of a green portal, with the scent of their Bitterroot beds, lilac bushes and sun wafting in from the yard. Standing there changed my view of architecture again. I didn’t know exactly how it changed, but it shaped the places I still dream about.
Incense must have been burned recently because sandalwood lingered in the air with the smell of herbs, and teas that filled big jars on the counter while other plants I couldn’t identify hung upside down. The smells, Neil, and the huge green view through the wall reminded me of other farmhouses I lived in, or visited, like the one on a high hill in Somers with the same rich aromas.
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“A house that has been experienced is not an inert box. Inhabited space transcends geometrical space.” Gaston Bachelard
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Songs :: Sugar Mountain and After the Goldrush by Neil Young, Dreams I’ll Never See by Molly Hatchet, True Love by Hovvdy, Follow Me Home by Dire Straits, and Wish You Were Here by J.J. Cale
© C. Davidson