I spend too much time looking at other peoples' houses on the internet, and sometimes I see one that is so beautiful it almost feels like a cruel hoax.
It's less about the house than it is the imagined life of solitude and no plastic toys on the floor and solitude.
In my own experiments this summer, I have figured out that solitude is found early, when the garden is still cool, not too late to water a corner or two. And not playing music or Radiolab podcasts around the house can extend this period of peace well into the late morning, when the pressure of errands starts to impede.
2 comments:
When I was a smoker, I used to crave those early morning hours. Just me, my Camels, and a cup of coffee. Without a smoke, it just doesn't feel as tranquil . . .
(Found your blog through my son. He's in your class at Homestead. Speaks highly of you, and it's only been two days. Impressive . . . )
That's a funny thought, that the absence of something could make a space feel less peaceful.
I remember I almost got hooked on cigarettes in college when my friends and I started rolling our own. We were mimicking the film noir heroes we were crazy about at the time, mainly for laughs, sparking blue-tip matches with our thumbs, off of our teeth, etc. I quit when I realized I was sitting in class just thinking about the idea of tobacco, and it sounded like a good idea.
Fun while it lasted.
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