In this increasingly competitive economy and job world, it seems like you have to play dirty to get anywhere. In any case, regardless of how I get there, if I were ever to reach financial stability and comfort, I would have a dream home to have as my sanctuary.
(source unkownknown, Tumblr)
This would be a lovely starting off point. I love the shingles, the windows, everything- and the rose bushes out front! The porch!
(Tumblr, source unknown)
To be honest, though, I would love a place with onion domes. Yes, I know, they’re normally reserved for Orthodox churches, but let’s just push the envelope a bit.
There would have to be a garden, and it must have paths to wander around. I would love a frog pond. In addition, any garden would not complete without a few slithering snakes sunning themselves or creeping through the undergrowth.
Inside would be organized chaos- warm colors mixed with lots of different textures, and lots of windows playing with the light.
There would be a library, and requistie bookshelves all over the place, proudly displaying encyclopedias (preferably the Britannica), stacks of National Geographics, a shelf devoted to street photography, Henri Cartier-Bresson and the like. In addition, I would have an entire bookshelf with the classics- Jules Verne, Mary Shelley, Byron, Jane Austen, Charlotte Brönte, Dostoyevsky, Thackery, etc. On top of this, there would have to be several bookshelves devoted to historical novels- anything concerning WWI or WWII, the history of medicine, surgeries, and health care, and several books about the great empires of the world, like the Ottoman Empire and the Holy Roman Empire, and books charting the major royal houses of Europe- the Stuarts, the Hanovers, Habsburgs, Bourbons, etc.
Sorry that got lengthy- whew!
The kitchen would have to be tiled like this. No doubt about it.
Molded ceilings would be beautiful- or pressed tin. A ceiling makes a house, honestly.
Rich wood would be in my bedroom, and it would be smooth and marked. If at all possible, salvaged from somewhere else. There would a diagonal window letting in light, and several skylights, too. The walls probably would not be white, though- they would have to have wallpaper, or frames, or mirrors- something.
If none of this works out I’ll find an old junky place and make it awesome, regardless. The onion domes and arched windows and rose bushes would be nice.
Above all, though, I will have books.
In the words of Ron Burgundy, I will have many leather bound books and an apartment that smells of rich mahogany.
And with that, it’s off to write an essay for Psychology of Art, which is more based off of interpretation than science, and subjectivity than formal studies.