I've got some workers fixing up my place and I'm wondering — what am I really building?

This is more than an office, more than an atelier,   more than a reading nook and a getaway — I'm building a sanctuary. It even goes beyond that — I'm building a new home for myself.

Perhaps I'm still in the stage of denial, but I notice how different, calmer, serene I feel when I'm there. It feels safe and warm, undisturbed. I go there in the morning and return in the evening, so it's only a matter of time till I start sleeping there.

Maybe next month, perhaps next week, I don't know. But it feels like a natural thing to do.  

Watching this Hemingway documentary, I wonder if I'm not building my Paris or my Key West? Not as distant but far enough to feel safe.

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