conception

There's a scene in the movie Pandora's Box when Louise Brooks is dancing across the landing of a great stairwell. The windows behind her are at least three times as tall as she is, plants are everywhere, and the setting has a feeling of epic permanence, like something that would have existed for hundreds of years and will continue to exist for centuries to come. You can see what it would be like with dust accumulated in the corners and the windows clouded with years of metropolitan soot. You can see that it would still be beautiful. When I think about my own home, that's what I want it to be.



Windows twenty feet tall, however, are an unrealistic goal at this point in my life. Even if I could afford a grand-ceilinged townhouse, I'm aware of none to be had in Austin, Texas. The most beautiful old buildings here all seem to belong to state government and it seems unlikely they'll be relocating any time soon. There are plenty of squat, utilitarian houses in what used to be the bad neighborhood just east of downtown. When I decided to put down roots, it quickly became clear that's what I'd be settling for if I were to do so in Austin.

With a very patient real estate agent, I've seen at least thirty of these houses. Most were in pretty bad shape, any charming features that had survived their ownership by unabashed slumlords in such poor repair that, were you to remodel them, all you'd be able to salvage of their vintage pedigree would be the year built on the title. A few were mostly gorgeous, but these were smaller and, frankly, seemed to have had all their potential realized.

A big part of the reason I decided to buy now is the same reason most other people I know who are doing so have: you want to buy low and sell high. At the very least, you want to buy low instead of waiting until the next bubble to get ripped off. I decided that the smartest decision I could make would be to buy a cheap house with good bones and put a lot of work into it. A lot of what's involved in home ownership, I loathe. I hate debt, and I hate not being able to control my debt. I bought a car once and paid it off in a year, skimping on everything else, because the thought of owing money haunted me and I was terrified of just paying the minimum and letting the interest snowball. If I'm putting equal parts money and labor into a home, at least I can exert a little control over its value. Given market conditions of late, that small amount of control is the only reassurance I have. That means potential's a big deal. I was looking for a house that needed more work than money to become amazing.

The pictures above are what I'd hang over the mantle, if the house I've made an offer on had one. In the late Domino magazine, I saw a lot of inspiration boards. I'd make one of those, except there's no way I'm going to print off a bunch of pictures, wasting paper and ink, just to pin them on a board. Better I begin with a single concept, a single goal, and store the bulk of my resources online.

As of this moment, I have nowhere else to store them. I currently have offers in on two houses. Probably that's a little sketchy, but the first is a short sale and I've all but given up hope of ever hearing back from the bank. I only hesitate to withdraw the offer in case things with the second offer go south, or something untenable comes up during the inspection. I'm waiting to hear a response to my offer from the seller of house number two. It may come today, and I'm hoping it does. The sooner it comes, the sooner I find out exactly how terrified I should be.