I suppose it had to happen at some point, but I hate the idea. I had the pleasure of hanging out in that house a couple of years back, and it has an energy that is amazing. Or perhaps it was the people in it...but where else are you going to get that convergence of history and people and ideas? Someone will buy it, then start redoing the kitchen and changing things and it will never be a place one can go to see where it all was born these many years ago. Change is a constant, but I sure wish someone wealthy would buy this place and make it available in some creatively integral way. I hate to think that others won't have the chance I did to poop in Ken's toilet!!

As for the price, that's really low. I'd buy it just for the investment value if I could.

So here's the interesting thing. I dreamed about this house just last night. I was in the living room, but it was different. It was more modern (the house has a distinctly 80's feel to it in real life), or should I say, post-post-modern, perhaps. And the fireplace was in the middle of the room, which was all white. Anyway, the glass in the windows went from floor to ceiling, so there were no walls. And the valley outside was flooded, so that only little hills were showing in this vast, calm sea. The sky was amazing, and the clouds were like impressionistic artwork. I don't know how to convey the vastness of this view, but there you go. Dreams are like that. Ken was standing there while I was telling him how amazing the view was, and he was laughing, saying he knew. I was rolling around on the floor, looking at the sky then the water. I was afraid to fall, knowing I'd die if I did, but I wanted to get closer to the water.

It was a profoundly peaceful dream. Ken had kindly opened up all of these vistas for me. The meaning is pretty obvious, but the setting was so evocative. And to hear that this house may become just another privately owned mansion is very sad for me. This is a very special place, where my life and others' were altered immeasurably. I would prefer if this didn't become another lesson in impermanence!

Love and thanks for all that Ken has done,

Liz