The Improbable becomes the Inevitable

I am currently building a home and studio on two acres that I purchased in the high desert of California. The reason why I'm building this home and studio is for freedom's sake. It wasn't a choice.

But largely a decision that was made for me in the same way that I went to Virgil Normal and would spend a good amount of my time there and saw the back patio and said, oh, It'd be cool if I turned this into an office and if I put cereal there and my friends could hang out so that way I could work and they wouldn't be bored.

And the same way that I was like, maybe I should open up an office and a gallery, so that way I could work and also just display some of the things that I like and show my work. And it's come from the same place. And it's a place for, which has no name. I don't know.

I was introduced to this land, and I immediately was like, no, why would I do that? But it's interesting because I've been looking for property over the last decade, and I've been talking about it in many isolated forms, just looking to actually build something of permanence.

I really enjoyed having the cereal bar and I enjoyed building and constructing and rehabbing and making what was Office and Gallery in Los Angeles. And those avenues are fun. However, there's a desire for permanence, for something that is long lasting. Something that I have a greater control of, and in truth, something that I could sink my teeth deeper into.

And that's largely in the construction. I don't have any building experience other than what I've done. I'm a great director in finding those who are excellent at particular crafts and employing them or working alongside of them or, learning from them to get what needs to get done. But I'm not a builder by trade.

So when this was brought to me, I was a little, perhaps taken back by, intimidated by the reality of what was presented to me. But it was only when I was driving that had dawned on me, like everything in my life I've had to build. There's not a single thing for which I did not construct.

It may have not been physical, but nothing has been handed to me. I've never applied for a job and have gotten one. I've never just, I've had to create it and in many ways that's really what I like. So I think it was sort of being faced with this reality, particularly after ha having lived in, Los Angeles for a decade, and have traveled and live elsewhere and returned. It's like, well, I've, I've turned every stone. That's just my nature. I'm gonna explore everything. Um, that's part of, uh, that's just my nature. So that's why I'm building it. I, I, I have no direct reason. All I know is that this is it and I'm building this home and building this studio .

It's a sort of mathematical high pressure stakes, but most of that is really just in one's mind, it isn't actually that crazy. And so the reason why I bring it up is because today those opportunities of creating and building do exist, but they're, I guess, as most true things are. They're at the far extremes.

They're at. The city limits. They're, you're not building a house in Los Angeles without at least $4 million. A a million is probably gonna go towards building and the 3 million will go towards maybe some bureaucratic nonsense. That's just facts. And so that goes for any major city and anywhere.

If you want freedom in this life to be able to own and create something, it's not gonna be in the ordinary, mainstream avenues. I'm not saying one should build a house in the desert. I'm not saying one should do anything, however, I'm simply stating a truth, which is, it's not in the mainstream, it's not in the newspaper, if you will.

It's like you have to dig for it and search for it. And that has always been true, uh, through time. Those individuals who have paved things, uh, the cities that you like that, that are popular areas were largely dormant, uninhabited or filled with those who were looked at as lesser than, they were never the desirable areas, um, or arenas or states or clothes or music or, you know, it, it, it's just true.

And so, that's the reason for why I'm building this. There's no true reason other than to lose myself in it and to pursue something great. And, um, to take what was once a mammoth mountain of a feeling and to look back on it like, oh yeah, that's cool. What's next? Because in making cereal, it was a mammoth of a feeling like, this is insane.

No way. Even in having a cereal bar or in making music or in moving to Los Angeles or in, you know, saying that I want to perform music. All of those things, um, seemed impossible. Inevitable, they've become.