Sunday, April 17, 2005

My mom is house-sitting for a friend over the next two weeks, and invited me over. The friend is an artist -- a sculptor -- and the house is my dream house (minus my breakfast nook, willow tree, and gazebo). The kitchen is painted the colors of a Andean doll's dress. Up a spiral staircase, there is a yoga studio that smells of Nag Champa and overlooks the backyard. I snapped a few photos of the sculptures on display, and bathed in a stranger's jacuzzi tub, thinking "Boy, I'd like to vacation here."

.:dr0wningophelia:. 22:10 | |