Imagining the life we would have had is simple; the photographs confirm everything I would have guessed. A trendy tiny apartment with exposed beams and no clutter, a view (through a tiny window) of a concrete wall. Many bottles of wine in the rack, a Jackon Pollock in the entranceway. Enviable sparseness and cleanliness. Lots of things I love on paper, lots of things that only work for me in theory. Lots of crunching down smaller to fit in tidy, tiny spaces.
A Murphy bed that efficiently disappears into the wall. Completely vanishes.
And you are a kind of economy that compresses in ways I cannot fold. I need the extra space to be alone in, I need the distance from my neighbours and sometimes from myself. Most of all I need the extra air to breathe. And I need my bed to take up a whole room.
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4 comments:
Look to the sky. Look at the sky and imagine you are travelling further into the blue. And further, and further. When you find the place, let your peripheral vision widen and keep widening. At first you find it strangely scary, or I did, but you will find yourself in the space you crave. And when your eyes return to your surroundings, everything seems more open, wider, roomier, and you can breathe again. Worth a try.
I need a lot of air. This is one good way to get more.
I tend to try to escape to find the space, which is somehow contradictory. I like Pixie's notion.
Internal escape... very convenient.
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