How much of your life is TMI and how much is just a touch too vague? I used to share it all. I miss that. But a part of me thinks the people who know me now just don’t need that much access to my life.

Four years ago, this blog would entail my outing with the Realtor today which would probably include pics and descriptions of the homes we visited. It was a great day. I might have found my new dream home. It’s a lovely two story home, completely brand new that sits on an acre of land.

We also visited three other properties which didn’t really make my heart stop at all. For me, my home, my room, my space is very sacred. I spend so much of my time inside my house that how I feel in it is extremely important to me.

When I first thought of becoming an Architect, the only thing that connected me to the profession was the idea of manipulation through building. You can ultimately effect someone physically and emotionally by design. I truly believe that. However, in this country, very few investors are willing to put in the cash to make that a reality. It all go so depressing watching the art of spacial and building manipulation turn into big box productions.

Can you imagine the ability to turn stone, concrete, wood, and other structural materials into emotional triggers? I imagine that sense of control and power architects of the 16th and 17th centry must have felt. Patrons who paid such massive amounts of wealth to have structures constructed to awe and overwhelm the senses.

And the most bizzare thing today was that I sort of found myself laughing inside. Surely I can’t have found my dream house on the first try? Who does that? And then the sadness sort of hits me. As solitary as my life is, even if I do get this house, I’ll once again be alone in the sharing of it.