Category — personal life

Hiro Boga, Jennifer Louden, Mahala Mazerov, and I have taken it upon ourselves to write on the same topic, and publish our work on the same day. This is the second time we’ve done this; the first time, our topic was writing. Today, it is home. Click on their names to read their lovely pieces. It is an honor to co-create with them!

When I was a little girl, I used to hide under my desk with a blanket and a book, pulling in the chair to erect an unseen gate, hoping against hope to go unnoticed for as long as it might take me to think my thoughts. (One day I heard a cough and realized that my brother, on the other side of the wall, was also under his desk…) This, I now see, was my first attempt to create a home, one where I could be who I actually was, although I would never have described it that way at 5 years old, or 8, or 12. This was just the beginning of longing for a place where the gate would swing open and I could safely emerge. By last count, I’ve tried to find a home in 20 domiciles in 6 different cities.  The last attempt was made just a few months ago when my husband and I moved from a house in the suburbs to a big loft in an industrial artists’ building.

This space suits me more than any I’ve ever lived in and so my desire for home is at a high pitch. If I can’t make it work here, then where? I like the big sweep of open space. The enormous skylights. The community of painters, sculptors, designers, and those who love them. (Or rent a room from them.) Most of all, I relish feeling the presence of others while being able to maintain solitude, which is a dream come true for one who loves people beyond all reason but is an inveterate, incontrovertible introvert. Given all the choices in the world, I will pick an apartment every time. I am a city person, there is no doubt.

I left my parents’ house in the suburbs when I was 16 and from that moment searched for a place for myself, with no frame of reference whatsoever. The only thing I knew was that it would probably be outside of conventional life—that I wouldn’t find it in an education, a relationship, or any lifestyle I had ever seen. So I didn’t go to college, didn’t create a household with another until I was almost 40, and have ended up with a job that requires/allows me to be alone all day long. (I really, really, really like being alone. I didn’t even live with my husband for the first 3 years of our marriage.)

From the outside, people look at my life and tell me how “brave” I’ve been for undertaking this search, for the risks I’ve taken, the stands I’ve made, the adventures I’ve been on. But I know the truth. I know exactly what has motivated me and it’s way more about fear than courage. I’m terrified of walking into my own home, showing exactly who I am, and not being embraced or even noticed; that the inner and outer noises will be so loud that I won’t be able to hear my own voice—and that if I am seen, am heard, I will not be loved. I’m terrified of finding myself in a place that looks like home but doesn’t feel like it, where the only spot that feels right is under my desk, unseen and not looked for, sunk in silence and not listened to, unrecognizable.

Today I sit at my desk not under it, but my posture is the same: I am poised in silence, listening for the opening of the secret gate. It is so easily missed.

kitchen/living rm

dining rm/office

stairway from bdrm

We’re moving. After nearly 10 yrs in one house. We weren’t necessarily planning to do this. I have been wanting to move for quite some time. We live in a suburb and I’m just not a suburb type person. So we’d been looking casually for maybe 3 years. (!!)

I was hoping for something more citified. A loft perhaps. Situated in a place that had a sense of community. Bohemian-y. Nothing trendy or glam.

Everything we looked at was either too small, too expensive, or too cheesy. Then I stumbled upon this 2200 sq ft loft in our price range in a converted factory building that had once been restricted to artists. The building has its own gallery and seems to still have a large population of painters and photographers. There are 155 units in two buildings with a beautiful courtyard in between. Our unit opens on to the courtyard and is situated in a single-story ell–so there is no unit above and there are giant skylights.

We made an offer. They said yes. We said, wha?! There had been no expectation they would accept it but they did and here we go.

Big renovation plans: taking down walls, new kitchen, floors, etc.

Big money terrors.

Big, rough marital terrain.

Bring it on.

Pictures here.

Makes me inordinately happy. Will return to posting more deeply meaningful things soon… Once I get that new rug…

Office redecoration underway. This weekend, I repainted. Should be done by tonight. To egg me on, Duncan cooked an amazing dinner last night: corn, tomato, parsley salad &  scallops in coconut milk with pineapple, scallions, and red chiles. For dessert, caramelized bananas. Unbelievable.

How was my week? I’ll tell you how my week was. Look at my office. Look at it!! Does this look like the space of a super on top of things person??

Starting to paint and redecorate office this weekend. Very exciting. Going with Benjamin Moore “Clear Skies.” Cheers to the whole concept of clear skies.

I have so much faith in change to reinvigorate and inspire. I really do. This is a chance to start fresh in all things work-related. Which is basically almost everything.

Been away for 2 weeks and looking forward to getting back to blogging (more). Book tour is actually starting to come together. Have an interview today with Body & Soul for possible Jan/Feb piece about the new book. Going to give 3 talks pre-publication in Austin (Oct 16), San Francisco (Oct 20), and Boulder (Oct 22).  I’m getting excited and nervous.

But first, some humor. The Kanye West apology generator is pretty awesome.

And some pics from vacation in Maine! Which was heavenly.

Harbor near the house

Acadia State Park

Young Duncan on porch

Hike up to top of Blue Hill

Evening light

Dinner table

The Duncans

With completely redoing my office. It’s a small room and it’s driving me crazy. I’m pining for elegance, order, and total upliftedness.

Here is what I have:

Here is what I long for:

This would be OK too:

Or this:

Nothing wrong with this:

This is how fun…