I recently crossed a little threshold: I have now lived in my current apartment for over a year. It is the first time in over a decade that I have stayed in the same living space for over a year. Few things bring me as much joy as setting up a space that enables behaviors and thought; then, with time, spatial rhythms can develop through feedback between the spatial constraints and the activities therein. Habits emerge, some out of intention, some on accident. I can stumble into the kitchen and get coffee going with my eyes closed; my desk is a habit field to help me do a certain kind of work.
Sometimes these habits get shattered, in small ways or large, intentional or not. The night before a trip, I put my keys under a gift I need to remember, breaking my typical habit (keys-by-the-door) in order to remember something I know I might forget, thereby offloading the remembering to my environment. I often feel the need to return home to get good, deep thinking done. It is reassuring to be in my own space, with any tools I may need nearby. It helps me remind myself of myself.
I had a brief conversation with Nic two weeks ago about taking a walk around the block with a mug from your own kitchen, thereby extending the feeling of home space—breaking the typical domestic habitat of the mug's life.
This past weekend, a large branch fell off a tree just outside my apartment building. A chunk of the street got cordoned off until city services were able to move it, and in the meantime it gave me a secret permission to stand, unbothered, in the middle of the street. It was my first time seeing my building from that vantage point. The sense of partial ownership or stakes that I feel for my building suddenly extended further, flowing over the curb and into the street, just by virtue of being able to stand in a new place.
The experiences was a reminder of how trivial it was to break a cognitive wall (that of the strong boundary between "my" building and the street). Here, it was as simple as taking a few steps into a place that I typically interpreted as cordoned-off.
Something as mundane as rearranging furniture can bring the same thrill, but this is all within a pretty standard view of how domestic spaces "should" be used. I want to throw a house party where the kitchen is the bedroom and the bathroom is on the balcony.
Standing in the street,
Lukas
Sometimes these habits get shattered, in small ways or large, intentional or not. The night before a trip, I put my keys under a gift I need to remember, breaking my typical habit (keys-by-the-door) in order to remember something I know I might forget, thereby offloading the remembering to my environment. I often feel the need to return home to get good, deep thinking done. It is reassuring to be in my own space, with any tools I may need nearby. It helps me remind myself of myself.
I had a brief conversation with Nic two weeks ago about taking a walk around the block with a mug from your own kitchen, thereby extending the feeling of home space—breaking the typical domestic habitat of the mug's life.
This past weekend, a large branch fell off a tree just outside my apartment building. A chunk of the street got cordoned off until city services were able to move it, and in the meantime it gave me a secret permission to stand, unbothered, in the middle of the street. It was my first time seeing my building from that vantage point. The sense of partial ownership or stakes that I feel for my building suddenly extended further, flowing over the curb and into the street, just by virtue of being able to stand in a new place.
The experiences was a reminder of how trivial it was to break a cognitive wall (that of the strong boundary between "my" building and the street). Here, it was as simple as taking a few steps into a place that I typically interpreted as cordoned-off.
Something as mundane as rearranging furniture can bring the same thrill, but this is all within a pretty standard view of how domestic spaces "should" be used. I want to throw a house party where the kitchen is the bedroom and the bathroom is on the balcony.
Standing in the street,
Lukas