Okay, this has to be another reason why we haven’t found a better house yet. I just stand outside and point my camera. The mountains are different every minute from weather, season, light, and moving clouds. Just look at the preceding post, fergodssakes. Who the hell ever has to go anywhere, says the man whose wife does almost all the grocery shopping.
An old friend admonished me once, “You can’t live on scenery.” I guess that’s true, but so is “you can’t live on meth.”
John Hamilton Farr lives in Taos, New Mexico, U.S.A. As New York Times best-selling author James C. Moore tells it, John is “a man attuned to the world who sees it differently than you and I and writes about it with a language and a vision of life that is impossible to ignore.” See .png)
I do understand your predicament. We have a similar problem. With each lot of torrential rain (coming more frequently), my son’s workshop floods. We could possibly find another place more suitable for him, and maybe even a bit more ‘comfortable’, but unless we find another place close to the sea (a mere 400m from our present place), our quality of life will plummet.
There must be another way. You don’t want to reduce the stimulus level at this stage, right? I wonder how we both pull this off. I’m thinking something turns up right underneath my nose, only on a paved road with an even better view. Think of something all of us can meditate on that works on either continent. Some secret button we can push.