Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Rick and I both grew up in California, but neither of us had ever been to Hearst Castle. As a kid, I imagined it to be a dark medieval thing, but it's actually about as opposite to that as can be. I was almost hesitant to go there, thinking I'd feel poor and pathetic afterwards, living in a trailer and all. But the light and beauty of the place lifted me, and I came away wanting to go back for another of the four available tours, so I could soak in some more. Our tour guide, Bev, was really great, telling us all about the place, and about William Randolph Hearst's obsession with building, collecting art, and changing his mind. She also connected on a personal level with the group, making me wish we lived next door to each other. I think we'd be friends. As we got back on the bus at the end of the tour, she looked at me kind of sideways, and said, "You look like a little artist". Well, that just made my day. Sometimes I'm not so sure what I am. Nice to have someone help me out with that every now and then.
The amount of stuff was overwhelming to me, being in this downsizing frame of mind lately. But I had to admire the beauty of the place, perched up on its hill, with the ocean far below in the distance. I'm a big fan of water features, so these two swimming pools really appealed to me...
And it just tickled me to see the humble bottles of ketchup and mustard on the mile-long dining table, alongside the gold-rimmed Blue Willow China. It made that foreign world of obscene wealth seem accessible and even sort of friendly.
I've never wanted to live in a place like that, and I'm happy to report that I'm still satisfied and comfortable in our little trailer. But I have to admit, I would like to be invited to a party up there on the hill. And, I think people like that need some good beads...
at 10:09 AM