I had to redo my last house after the pipes burst, and something was lost in the renovation. The soul of the old space was compromised.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I was brought up in a tenement house in a working district. We didn't even have a bathroom! We had a gaslight in the hallway and a black-and-white TV.
As a kid, I think I rearranged the rooms of almost every house on the block.
I have continued to work at different things, and rebuilt my home all by myself. I did it for the sake of satisfaction at doing something. I did it because I happened to be where I was.
I consider myself a D.I.Y. home improvement guy. In a prior life, I completely gutted a house - redid the plumbing, wiring, moved sewage pipes, knocked down walls, everything.
I moved around a lot when I was a child; two of the houses I grew up in have totally disappeared. One was burnt in a riot, and the other was pulled down.
The shock I had, from moving from L.A. to New York, you know, whether you live in an apartment, whether you like to or not, it's cramped, it's crowded and it needs - guess what - a renovation.
I knew I was going to lose my house in Ireland and all the other properties. It's all gone. But my house was the one material thing that was very important to me.
I've always been into older homes, even if I have to refurbish or remodel or raise roof lines or knock out walls.
The only pleasure in redecorating or moving house comes from stumbling across books that I'd almost forgotten I owned.
My house is a place I have spent many years improving to the point where I have no desire to leave it.