A small Café to be

I sit and think of my definition of a home.
I want a fireplace, a corner for my books and a bed big enough for visitors staying over night. The kitchen should be open and filled with candles. That's all. Maybe a dog, a small cow, a goat and a horse too, if it's a small house in the countryside.

But most of all I consider home to be a place where I can invite strangers, friends, artists and writers to share a cup of coffee or tea, a cake and discuss whatever may be on their mind. A open living room in a small caffe that I own, where I can paint the walls in the colors of my soul, where people can sell art, perform music or just hang around. They may bring their own food, literature or games, or grab something I have to offer that day. I'll create that place during next year, if I can afford it. If I find the right spot. And I will sit down with my guests, work with them, kiss them hello and goodbye and spread my love, show a movie some night and read some poems another evening. Sometimes we offer breakfast, sometimes we don't.

That's how I wanna live, in a mach up with long days in a studio environment, among beautiful, warm and inspiring people.

Can I have that?