i just love houses like this, and Berkeley is full of them. they seem to beckon me inside to partake of 'mysteries.' nothing negative, perhaps mysteries of art, or the old arcane mysteries of the tarot cards, the zodiac wheel, or perhaps the writing of poetry.
i'm not so sure i'd actually like to live in such a house. i've grown to love my sun-drenched bungalow, even though it is angled to avoid too much sun. our house feels like a cool dim retreat, but nevertheless it gets more sun than this house with its overgrown foliage.
still...isn't it magical?