I've been channeling Jack Kerouac lately, and wondering how I ever decided to get off the road and settle down in Carmel Valley, a small rural community a couple of mountains over and a ten-mile drive from Carmel-by-the-Sea or just plain Carmel if you wish. I am home, I think. At least I'd like to think I'm home.
I spent 323 days or so living in motels and in casinos on comps and attending art festivals and blogging and takeing pictures. I guess I'm tired and have stopped traveling. I came to Carmel and the Monterey Peninsula a few days ago and just decided to stay. The ocean, the cool breezes, the nice people keep things in balance when you consider this area is among the most expensive places to live. I'm paying more for gas than rent.
I've opened a studio for a place to hang out and write, paint, draw, swat flies, and watch delivery trucks drop off fresh fruit to the market that sits beneath me. All is well, so far.
Personal Observations and Commentary on Art, Life, Culture from Mitchell Ray Aiken
We May Be in for a Perfect Storm of Home "Unaffordability".
I recently read about celebrity real estate agent Mauricio Umansky, who raised concerns about the "perfect storm of total unaffordabili...
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It's all about networking and developing relationships with people. Real estate investing success is dependent on knowing people, meetin...
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The Texas Rangers won the American League Conference Series last night and I am pumped. They play game one of the World Series this Friday. ...
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At the end of the hallway, Woodrow took a left turn and found a door leading into the church's sanctuary. A terrible odor emanated fro...