For a few months, Gentle Reader, I held a weekly Salon in my humble abode. I’m living on the outskirts of civilization in a forest, and I don’t drive – I just had to get some social stimulation, somehow. I invited a diverse mix of guests – the best people I could think of. There were intellectuals, artists, writers, as many queers as I could muster – the most interesting and most charming individuals I could come up with were invited to my beloved home, Arvingdale.
Unfortunately – as I said, Arvingdale is rather remote – very few were willing to make the trek to my forest abode. The first week, we had only myself, Miss K., and the charming Mr. Maddox – who I’d invited on a whim, and hadn’t seen since high school. That first week, I was aquiver with anxiety – I was afraid no one else would show, as no one had R.S.V.P.’d, and I didn’t want Maddox to think I’d lured him to my home under false pretenses. Luckily, K showed, and we went on to solve all the world’s ills.
Over time, more and more guests started coming, and I was able to relax a little. Having guests each Sunday was the perfect motivation I needed to keep the house in order, and to decorate for holidays, and so on. It soon became the highlight of my week – and entertaining on a shoestring is my stock-in-trade. Besides, I’ve always found that I can live quite happily on leftover party-food – canapes and caviar, chèvre and champagne.
The Colonel began coming, and Miss Nozawa was a regular as well. They brought with them various interesting guests each week, as well as hookahs, paintings and painting supplies, and so on. Multiple people would actually sit at my ancient upright piano and play – guitars and my trusty ukulele got brought out. Furthermore, I was finally able to arrange to purchase my favorite of the Colonel’s works, the rather enormous Cthulhy.
The Salons never grew as big as my beloved Mimosa Sundays, but they didn’t have the time to; I had to cut them off as the Holidays got into full swing, and I’m currently engaged in packing the remaining things at Arvingdale up as we prepare it for sale. Still, I highly recommend a weekly event at one’s home to get the creative juices flowing – to foster ties and deepen friendships and to have a forum in which to meet charming and interesting young people. On balance, I wouldn’t call the Salons a failed experiment – it was just a matter of the wrong place and the wrong time. I look forward to trying to make this happen more substantially once I’ve established myself in a more secure location.