The title pretty much sums up the entirety of what was happening in this photo. Nour was smoking a cigarette, high above the city of Ouarzazate. Nothing to write home about.

However, I get irrationally excited every time I see any part of the province behind him, since for me, the ancient city of Ouarzazate will forever be the place I realized that (for the right price) it was possible to fall in love with a centuries old door, and then have Moroccan artisans re-create a similar door for me in that style. Up until this point, I had no idea that such a thing was even possible, much less possible at a reasonable price that I could afford!

Keyhole Means Me-Hole!

Let me explain. A lot of people fall in love with an exotic place they are visiting and start dreaming up ways they could possibly move/live there. I, on the other hand, do the exact opposite: I start trying to figure out ways I can bring a piece of that place and culture home with me.

Case in point, this door in Ouarzazete. I scoured Morocco until I found a team of artisans that could carve me a door in a similar Tuareg/Berber style, and now I have this beautiful Moroccan door that will feature prominently in my home, leading into my office.

Will Seth have to duck his head a bit in order to pass through it? Almost definitely*. But… I mean… what is he doing in my office anyway? Get outta here, Seth! This is Ryan World.

Go to your own office with its boring un-keyhole-shaped entry and normal height clearance.

Keyhole means Me-hole!

*Seth, my partner, is one inch (1 in) taller than me in height, a fact which he reminds me of constantly.

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