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Leading the "art life" means I can work anywhere. That's the theory.
Some days I think it would be cool to take my notebook to a coffee shop or library. I did it a few weeks ago when I was meeting a friend at 3 — got there early, read my book, and jotted down Important Thoughts. But the chair was uncomfortable and the music was loud '70s; my tea got cold too soon and I couldn't resist a giant brownie. Still, I felt very artsy.
Had a touch of cabin fever yesterday — Sunday — and went out to look for a contemplative place. In my studio, I'm too prone to radio and TV distraction. In my bedroom I'm too prone to naps. Our ground floor study is dark and a little too meditational. What I wanted was a midling quiet place, with an easy chair and a view of the sunny day.
I wandered. Avoided Barnes & Noble because I don't need the temptation to buy more books. The library didn't open till one and the bagel place was crowded.
So — no place like home.
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