Sometimes a room is sleek and clean and minimal. Other times, it’s bold and breathtaking and thought provoking. And then there are times when it’s so outlandishly ridiculous, that it becomes instantly amazing. This week’s space is that sort of room. The owner of this home obviously has a mountain of books, and perhaps minimal horizontal space in which to expand. So what do you do? Go up. This vertically dominant room soars to the heavens in a dangerously curious way. It’s design is peculiar, dangerous, but rather creative, and either way, the owner’s precious book collection remains intact and precariously accessible (by way of a twenty foot ladder). This is certainly a book lover’s room. Let the daydreams (or nightmares for those afraid of heights) commence.
Just a few words pulled from the shelves of the old Vault…enjoy. Thanks for reading.
Just a few words plucked from the Vault…read on if you’d like. Stay creative.
Another little oldie pulled from the depths of the Vault…thanks for reading!
Take a peek at this week’s excerpt. The story is still unfinished, but it’s a small part of a redemptive, soul searching, and ultimately uplifting tale. Thanks for reading!
I’m not afraid of the dark. It’s there that I can’t be seen. These days, hell…maybe I don’t want to be seen. I’ve spent so much time lingering in that place that it’s comfortable….like an old friend. It knows me and I know it; it understands me more than the light ever did. The light left me, and when it did, the darkness was there to shield me from the cold. And boy, was it cold.
It’s in the darkness that I can see the clearest. Sounds weird, right? But it’s true…in the darkness, I can see. Clearer than on the brightest, sunniest day…and yet I can’t be seen, at least by the normal, every day people. Night recognizes night. That much is true. Darkness can see darkness. Bleak understands bleak. I ain’t afraid of any dark.
I think that I am afraid of sunlight though…it’s never truly touched me. I’ve always seen its rays, sure…but I’ve never truly felt it’s warmth. Like a plant that bends and twists and reaches and contorts for enough sunlight to survive…only to wither and brown and retract. It’s not easy to stretch oneself for nothing. There’s less disappoint in the dark. The sunlight is unforgiving to blemishes.