Descriptive Essay About My House

 The tin roofed cabin on the outside was rickety looking, it looked as if it was made fifty years ago. On each side of the cabin, it had two glossy dusty windows. It also had pelts of animals hanging from the door, and the walls that probably haven’t been touched in years. The inside of the cabin was however nice, it had a kitchen with a working stove, wood burner, and a wooden table. The cabin also had a couple hazel colored couches and an aquamarine colored recliner.

Both homes are commissioned to be temporary housing during vacation periods thus, both Wright and Mies chose to forego some comforts of permanent residency for the sake of design. Owners question practically over art casting doubt in both architect’s vision of the homes. Wright installed a glass foldable door to cover the walkway to the water at the request of the homeowner and Mies built a closet at the request of Farnsworth compromising their designs. In the design of both homes the idea, to reject traditional design is apparent by the use of materials that were not typical of that time. Both architects build the houses into and part of nature. Falling Water is one with nature and Farnsworth House is almost nothing seeming to be an ethereal spectator booth placed on the bank of the river. Both Wright and Mies attempt for their homes to seem not there but still exist.

The street I live on has a lot of houses on it, and mine just happens to be one of them. Each house has its own driveway each one unique in its own way. Most of them are paved driveways, but mine happens to be made from hard pack. I can picture the driveway when it was built, still in the same place and still being made of rocks.

Long Island, New York is my birthplace and my home. I’ve lived here my entire existence of 17 years and I am blessed. I grew up in a 4 bedroom home in a town by the name of Williston Park. My home is a two-story colonial with a large front and back yard. The lush green grass and the variety of plants in the front yard make it aesthetically pleasing. The white siding of the home make it really hard to keep clean. The four windows in the front of the home make it look as if the house is smiling when you go towards it. Most of the homes in my neighborhood are similar in size and basic structure. Many of these homes are occupied by older white couples. Although my town isn't as diverse as the neighboring towns I love my neighborhood. Some of my favorite things to do are having casual conversations with my older neighbor John; going to the many baseball or football fields to play with my friends; go to Roosevelt Field Mall, or go to one of the many restaurants we have, or finally go to a place called Bounce, which is an indoor trampoline park. One of the greatest parts about my neighborhood is the sense of community and how we are able to set our differences aside when people we care about are in need. Growing up on Long Island we don't have as much access to public transportation compared to NYC, so I usually asked my parents for rides or was stuck walking miles to my friend’s house, or wherever else I went. Once I reached the age I really had no choice other than to get my

The house is different from other houses in the sense that, it didn’t allude to a real house. The house is an image of many ideas

A review of the house itself suggests that an architectural hierarchy of privacy increases level by level. At first, the house seems to foster romantic sensibilities; intrigued by its architectural connotations, the narrator embarks upon its description immediately--it is the house that she wants to "talk about" (Gilman 11). Together with its landscape, the house is a "most beautiful place" that stands "quite alone . . . well back from the road, quite three miles from the village" (Gilman 11). The estate's grounds, moreover, consist of "hedges and walls and gates that lock" (Gilman 11). As such, the house and its grounds are markedly depicted as mechanisms of confinement--ancestral places situated within a legacy of control and

The house was a blue vast blur from afar. The blue overpowered just about anything within a near radius of the house. The milk white covering the door and trimming around the windows fir perfectly with the blue. The house was one that spoke with its colors. Although it drowned

The house was long, white, and had blue shudders. I could always pick out which set of windows out front peeked into my bedroom because of the messy off-white paint stuck to it after years of never being touched up. Inside, so much more was going on than the typical all-American home lead outsiders to believe. Confusion, growth, fear, and lots of aluminum cans.

Inside the house, it was quite empty. Pure white walls, dark-stained wood flooring, and black furniture. The staircases were wooden and well worn, complementing the intricacies of the shade around the house. Two men walk into the house.

The imagery of his house is that of a castle. His house is to be white with green cornices and he will have a barn as red as blood with white cornices like snow. With this description the reader sees a house like a palace in the middle of the open

A black sedan pulled down the rainy, one-lane country avenue and up the circular drive to the foreboding home. It was a large house, not large enough to be considered a manor, but still, with its three stories, it was an impressive, albeit faded, display of period architecture. The house sat upon a hillock where the car came to a stop, and the driver’s door opened.

The house is variable in size and has a rectangular plan. It is almost totally lacking windows on the outside since all the rooms face onto the inner courtyards. A classic house of the first

Gjúki once said that he had built it himself, but this was untrue, his father had been born here. Little by little, he had added to it, building a firewood shelter, a hut for the creels and half a boat shed nearer the shore, all painted the same noisy yellow as the outside of the house. Gjúki had told me that nothing in the ocean was yellow, so the spirits of the sea would not mistakenly come unannounced.

There were many bright images of the interior. There was a generous sized carpeted living and family rooms with a brick wood burning fireplace. The roomy eat-in kitchen had plenty of cabinetry, a good amount of counter space that included a breakfast bar, and a stove and dishwasher and a slider that gave access to the deck. There were two full sized bathrooms with one having double sinks and three spacious bedrooms with carpet and wood flooring, and closets. Overall, the home appeared to be functional and in very good condition.

The house is made of logs and fits the woodland aesthetic perfectly. It is as if this house was always here, almost like it grew out of the ground like the oaks, pines, maples and cedars surrounding it. Stepping into the foyer from the garage brings you to french doors that look out toward the pond. Soft, carpeted steps lead to a large master bedroom, bathroom, and