The house welcomes the vivacious, the wise, and the crazy. It welcomes the rain, the wind. Never judging, never labeling any living being. It lets weeds grow and walls crumble. This house taught me the smells of wood, rust, motor oil. It sharpened my ear to the song of the piano, to the strings of the cello, to Bach, to Gurdjieff. It gave me a taste for liveliness, and has left me with memories that continue ever still to frame and build me, much like the bricks in my own home.