Our old house, dubbed "Chez Levy" on a dinner party menu I made years back, was built in 1948. It is no longer ours but I had to capture its essence in photos before we left it--as best as I could--that is, if it's even possible to photograph those parts of us that stay behind in grace and beauty and color and style. Every inch of brush stroke and corner cleaned to our satisfaction. Every window dressing something discussed and decided upon. Every color chosen carefully. Every repair done skillfully with loving hands to maintain our investment. Every inch cleaned with a commitment to keeping things nice. Every foot of acreage seeping with Nathan's environmental stewardship and love for the land and nature.
The furniture is no longer there but part of us--and everyone who entered its space--remains. This was not what one might call a fancy home, ah, but such a real one! Filled with love and parties and friends and caring and sharing. A home that supported us as entrepreneurs, lending itself as an administrative office for a training business, a studio for artistic endeavors, cottage industry home cooking, a center for education in diverse healthful subjects, and a distribution center for healthy locally grown food by St. Petersburg urban farmers. This home was privy to tough subjects, mournful tears, warming hugs, and friends who met there and remain good friends to this day. This home was a meeting place for such a wide variety of people who may never have met if this home had not opened its doors and welcomed all who entered.
Here is my Ode to Chez Levy... in all its nakedness... and ours.