Went for a long walk yesterday – voyaging through ‘burbia. I pilgrimmed to Kmart to get some esspresso coffee on special and arced out wide on the way back. I’m giving up on feeling concerned about it not raining enough for winter — forthwith. If i can feel like I got a touch too much sun on aug. 2 then it doesn’t matter if i have to have a bath in a bucket next feb.
A while back i started to get this feeling that I wanted a house. It was only the glimmer of a feeling, but significant when compared to absolutely no feeling in that area. And it has remained and reminds me a bit of –as a kid– coming across a New Thing like machine men, or transformers or some strain of lego and really wanting to collect the whole lot. I don’t think I did with any of them, but with two brothers we’d often combine to nearly get ’em all. But i’d invariably end up with this empty sensation and think that the getting was better than the got.
Collecting all the bit of western middle-classness (the spouse, the house, the New Car(!), the big dog, the outdoor furniture) has always been a revolting death-like proposition, but something’s shifting in me and I don’t know if it’s right or not.
Maybe I’m flipping out over nothing. Either way I’m facinated by houses like that below. It’s surreal. I suppose it’s based on English architecture, but it looks more like new England to me. Like Charlie Brown’s house. I know it’s not a great foto but i feel shifty enough without adding pulling up on my bike and whipping out a kamera. I had to split when the dog started barking.
It’s like hiding. If i was an intergalatic criminal on the lamb, I’d hole-up in the next suburb west of here, Manifold Heights. What a trip.