There's a portion of the deck that is out in the open, nothing put pure fresh mountain air. Then there's another portion that is roofed off with white beams and glass panels. There's a stone fireplace towards the back of the terrace.

"It almost feels like you could drop off the edge and down to the forest floor," she comments looking nowhere near his direction. Instead she has one arm resting against the back of the white sofa and is looking over her shoulder and down past the glass wall behind her. She was visiting just to visit, and that was a great feeling.

She then noticed his sea scape in the corner of the incased deck. Pierce decided not to hang his painting in here but let it sit on the floor, by the request of his eccentric teacher.

"I'm going to make a suggestion, don't hang it in a room that you spend a lot of time in. You'll quickly get sick of it," she adds. "Doesn't matter what subject it is, you are your own worst critic." 

He knew it was true for some of the diagrams he had printed up and pinned to his corkboard of chaos.