I have so much more to say about this space and the motivation behind our trip to Idyllwild, coming later this week thanks to Glamping Hub. But for now, I wanted to just focus on this corner, as it reminded me so much of my room in high school, from the pitched roof, small hiding spots (my old bedroom had secret compartments built into the walls), and aged, glossy wooden floors. It even has the beams of light that would keep me company all those afternoons as I devoured one Anais Nin diary after another, with Billy Holiday, Sarah Vaughan, and Lena Horne crooning on my fake record player that had a CD slot in the back.
Looking back, those afternoons were some of the most formative of my life. The contrast of dark shadows and soft light, sultry vocals from another era, Anais Nin's introspections on the Self, and that quiet, dignified scent of ancient wood. They all bring back a familiar yearning that, at the time, was all-encompassing and overpowering. It consumed me. It was a yearning for a world that was mine to shape, untouched and unfettered by outside expectations. And it may sound strange, but in a space like this, I felt as though I were teetering onto another plane, in which this world actually existed.
The feeling of those afternoons has stayed with me my entire life. It's what carved out the path that I find myself on now, and it is what has taught me how to nurture and protect a rich inner world, regardless of what is happening around me. And while that otherworldly stillness of those afternoons can sometimes be few and far between, every once in a while, I find a door to a place that summons it all back.