I have dogs for whom, if they were human, I would have already secured restraining orders. They follow me constantly which I love about 80% of the time, and the rest of the time I have to sneak around to avoid them and hide. Sometimes I have my morning coffee in the bathroom. I sit on the toilet (seat down... I'm not a monster), cross my legs, and hook one against the shitty 70s cabinet, phone in hand to check stocks and news and Twitter and Pinterest and Instagram. I can hear the dogs clicking nervously outside. I read on, trying to have a little peace. It's a thing.
Last year I went into the attic and realized: WOW. This is like... a room I am not using. The attic stairs are too steep for the dogs, so that works to my advantage. In fact, they're almost too steep and dangerous for me. But, bit by bit discarded old furniture has made its way up here. Last year after I quit my job (I since returned, but I had a nice 7 month fake retirement), I realized that one thing that made me completely insane was that I never did anything with my hands except type. I never made anything. I had spent 18 years working in a way that I often described as "bending spoons with my mind," doing a lot of things that were not visible to me. Everything happened sort of... theoretically. So I started making really bad paintings and bad carvings and bad prints. Now I am on to bad pottery. (It's liberating to do things badly. Also a late life lesson.) So the attic, like the bathroom, is my new hideout.
What's your hideout?
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My car...after work I literally sit in my car and decompress. All of the energies I come across and the faking at work is draining. When I run an errand or just get home, I sometimes sit in my car too. Just not ready for all the "extra" when I walk through the door. I need to prep myself.
THE CAR. Yes. Same. Sometimes it's the bubble of calm you need to face what's next.
I've been avoiding my attic because it's the master suite that isn't yet/maybe never will be. But a treehouse/creative space/escape zone. Yes. Beats hiding in the kitchen, pretending to cook?
What a good reminder to just make the art, good or bad. The attic sounds glorious!
Basement. I just moved from Ca to Pittsburgh. You know they have these things called Pittsburgh Potties? A basement full of discarded, storage-able items AND a toilet without a partition of any kind. No walls, no screens, no curtain. Just a shitter with a view of all your outdated, forgotten projects. If you're lucky, there's a shower that you gotta straddle the toilet to use. Again, no curtain. But man, there's so much room down there. I've got bookcases for miles to organize all the crap I paid to transport from one side of the country to the other.
I'm a printmaker and also do a lot of collage work. I have spots and piles of supplies all over the house. I'm currently trying to talk my husband into building a studio above the detached garage. I think it's going to work. I've always dreamed about having a studio in the backyard. It's going to be so yummy and quiet.
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