Things
I Love about my Client's Home: short stories
By
Jeannine Patané • 16 March 2005
The
Toad
The past season’s fallen foliage still
lay on the ground against the house. I uplifted a partially buried pile
of roof flashing and carried the pieces to the street for pick-up, then
started raking along the house wall. As the organic debris was scraped
up, a brick walking path revealed itself and the leaf pile grew quickly—enough
to fill yard bags. I bent down and began scooping the leaves into a
bag. Something seemed to move within the pile. Gingerly, I removed a
few leaves on top to find the largest toad I ever saw and a shrilly
giggle came out of me.
“Come on little guy, I’ve got to
move you to a safe place.” As I cupped it with work gloves on
my hands, the toad tried to jump, and my reaction was to squeal and
open my hands up. I scooped the toad up again and carried it over to
a shady, moist area.
Later that evening, Tom heard the story about
my new friend. He asked me if I kissed the toad, because “He could
have been your prince.” I chuckled and told him I didn’t
offer it any kisses, I just picked up the little guy and put it in a
safe place.
“Don’t worry, he’s still around.
I’ll keep an eye out for him,” I stated with a smile and
a wink.
The
Bathtub
Queen Latifah’s “Order in the Court”
CD is making the bass jump over the speakers this evening. I let the
music set my mood while I soak in the bathtub. The master bathroom is
still under renovation with exposed studs, and the electrical runs are
incomplete, but the plumbing has been hooked up to the tub. Sometimes
the best pleasure comes from the perfection of imperfection during a
transformation. This post-modern suburban house is being transformed
into a loft-style home and I’m honored to be contributing to the
conversion.
Water drips off the bath sponge, and runs down
my leg in the candlelight. I stretch my limbs in the warm water while
inhaling incense. 
My
body rolls over to rest on bent legs and I put my head in the water
to blow slow, steady bubbles. My body relaxes after a hard day of work;
my breathing slows to long, deep breaths.
The tub's massage jets are usually appealing,
but tonight I prefer jut to soak and listen to the music instead of
the disruptive noise of the jet motor. I immerse myself entirely. I’m
in the tub so long, the CD player moves to the next disk—Tom Waits.
My mood changes to his voice, and I continue the enjoyment of having
convenient, on-demand hot water to immerse in.
The
H House
Roll the idea around. Mobile landscaping.
Dallas artist Kyle Wadsworth needed a place to put his work between
exhibitions. Tom’s awkward mound in the front yard was the perfect
place to park the art, offering a more permanent exhibition. We acquired
the H for now, but there’s more to the piece; E, D, G, E, and
dwarf yaupon hollies for planting in the letters.
There is an atmosphere about Dallas that has
a strong pull for artists who see the connection with technology and
the environment. The forefront of this macro-media art is the University
of Texas-Dallas and a multitude of area museums. Walk into any art
gallery and you’ll most likely see a mesh of art, technology
and the environment that can make art and science inseparable.
Some of our world’s most brilliant people
are both scientists and artists, because their minds are open to the
similarities and connections. Dallas attracts a nurturing marriage
of hi-tech art and science, and my client Tom has embraced this atmosphere
into his work and living environment. Being a world-recognized performance
director and writer, his style is eclectic and artistic, from salvage
yard industrial metal to hand woven exotic fabrics. His home is energetic.
Like other contributing artists such as Kyle, I love the energy of
the H house and how art and technology work together.
