everyone has their thinking space

i recall, that whenever i want to be inspired, or am inspired, the image that appears in my mind harkens back to when i was a child of kindergarten age sitting on the window balcony - it's magic, it's not a real balcony so you have to climb up on something to get onto it - and with the window closed behind me - both behind and in front are dark - i am looking out at the night sky and the shadows of the forest across the road with the smell of night laced on the patterned grills. it is loud with silence - a symphonic silence (silence has many layers and types). sometimes i am with my mother. she is asking me about my five-year-old day. sometimes i am alone. sometimes i am in the midst of playing hide-and-seek-in-the-dark with my siblings and the window balcony is one place to hide. i am on top of the world - flying but safe. i am high but not too high - four stories - the grill is assuring.

later i am fifteen years old and sitting on the balcony ledge with my books, leaning against the grill - it is assuring - and the setting sun is washing me in a dense orange coat. i see the trees in their green and i cannot concentrate on my books. maths or english whatever, i just contemplate being in that space.

if i ever design my own home there will be a balcony that one must climb onto something to get onto. adventure must be allowed in childhood and when you become a teen it becomes a refuge and place of dreaming in the solitary in the rich greenness of the tree tops, just across the road.

it is where you grow your interior world.