So today, I went to a few houses. The first belonged to a pretty renowned architect, and it was a SWEET house. It had a moat (well, kind of--it ran along the whole front of the house). And amazing woodwork. And the basement--it was dug out about 15 feet beyond the main floor, and it had a glass ceiling. Stop for a minute and picture that. It was rather sick. The furniture looked like it would be straight from Vallency, but no--it was all custom. The parties you could have there would be unbelievable. The cars in the garage were worth around $400k. And there were only two of them.
Then we went to another house. Wasn't nearly as big, or as grand, or as obvious. Then you stepped inside and looked out the glass doors that ran the length of the living room. Directly outside were state-protected undeveloped cliffs leading to the ocean, beautiful desert cliffs with hawks circling* with the sun making beautiful shadows on the terrain.
The woodwork inside--cedar curved walls that were so pristinely assembled and finished and mitred that I was witness to a group of about 10 architects trying to figure out how they were crafted. Cement countertops in the kitchen were cast in glass, which makes them shiny and smooth beyond material recognition. The back yard was landscaped with Korean grass, which looks almost otherworldly, but oh so very cool.
Every wall was covered in beautiful art--upon further exploration, I realized that the majority of it was created by the lady of the house. Pictures of and notes from kids and grandkids were everywhere. The house just resonated with love and care.
Across the cliffs was a huge, Mediterranean monstrosity that we learned was where Michael Jackson sequestered himself when he was first found to have a liking for the kiddies.
I looked across, and I just felt cold. Then I thought of the other house we had seen, and felt the same.
I learned later that the Love House belongs to a man rated by Forbes as being one of the 40 richest men in the country. But to me, he just looked like he lives a happy, happy life. So yes, pretty damn rich, indeed.
*Okay, so the circling hawks: beautiful to me; probably not so much to the rabbit or squirrel or whatever little fluffy thing they were actually circling. But still.