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Actual scene, actually seen by me. A pink-icinged donut, waiting by the side of a mail box.

When the world gets too weird, I go to the place where everything makes sense.

I go to Ikea.

Specifically, I go to the Ikea House, the 600-square-foot fake home that my local Ikea has installed on its main floor as an example of the pristine Ikea lifestyle.

It’s like walking into a vision of domestic perfection where there’s a place for everything and, most importantly, everything is in its place.

Clean lines, blond woods, small-scale sense of what it takes to be complete.

This (above) would be my work room. I would thrive in such simplicity. I can see me having only one thought at a time here, no room for conflicting or competing ideas, no debris from non-sensical or overly-complicated notions about life, art, self, or DoG. I could be pure in this room.

I find great comfort in imagining my life in the Ikea House, limiting my intellectual and emotional baggage to just what I could stash into Scandinavian closet space.

Ahhhh…the only thing better than a 600-square-foot Ikea House would be this: 

The 315-square-foot Ikea Apartment.

If you here tell of a someone taking up residence in the showroom of the Hicksville Ikea on Long Island, that will be me.

 

12 comments to Let Me Take You To My Happy Place.

  • August

    I will send you cash in the mail if you write a BDSM novel with watercolor illustrations.

  • Carol

    Good Morning! Barnes and Noble has a very brief slide show of Le Road Trip on their website. The book just looks BEAUTIFUL!! I cannot wait to see it!!!!

  • My happy place is somewhere where the sun is shining, not here in the Great Pacific Great Northwest where it has been raining for a month. You should come here in Spring (AKA the Season of Disappointment) to paint the rain in all its many varieties.

    My home, “Dog End”, is 630sf. It is not simple — it is entirely cluttered with whimsical stuff — and it is most definitely one of my all-time Happy Places.

  • Jen

    Ha! That doughnut! I love finding random stuff while out for my walks. Once I found a pile of baked beans and hot dogs. The next day, the ‘dogs were gone but the beans were still there. That same week I found an unopened package of chicken livers in the ditch.

    My happy place: Diving from the sun-warmed granite boulder that slopes down into Kilburn Pond when no one else is there and I feel like it’s just me and the birds. Otherwise, a long solo car trip. I swear by those as therapy.

  • Jacqui

    I sold my “happy place”,my 1971 VW camper.
    In it we could happily find lots of happy places.
    From reading this, I see that I do need to find another happy place.
    Ugh Ikea places. They look as tho they should be inhabited by Barbie and/or Love Dolls. Or, robots.
    Boston. Gee, it must be their grapevine, social networking over a belated discovery of a must have book that makes a great gift. The Boston Buzz.

  • Shelley

    My happy place is anywhere near a beach (and for now that means the Oregon coast). If I can get sand and salt water on my feet, and smell the sea breeze, I am one happy camper (only my idea of camping these days is a nice cottage or condo with a whirlpool bathtub, lots of comfy chairs, a fireplace, and a king size bed)!

    I agree…ugh to Ikea…it just feels too cold, and sterile, and soul-less to me. I’ll take my funky fixer-upper home, cluttered with books, and candles, and houseplants, and too much stuff, and a couple of cats, and a nice full wine rack, and not a white wall to be found anywhere within.

    Books, cats, wine, and bright colors…now that’s a happy place!

  • Nadine

    August! I’ve missed you!

  • I can lay claim to three of those new book sales in Boston – they were the gals in my workshop last week where I was reading your self-deprecating blog. I’m sure they took my advice and bought a copy when they returned home. We’ve already pre-ordered Le Road Trip! I’ll read it in my studio – my happiest of happy places!

  • janet bellusci

    happy place: the 1851 farmhouse and land i live on now, which makes it very difficult to want to be anywhere else.

  • Happy places
    – Beautiful walkable beaches
    – Comfy sofa with cat on lap (and favorite libation in hand)
    – Indie bookstores that have a cafe & comfy chairs for hours of browsing
    – Beautiful walkable beaches
    – Art museums and their gift shops
    – Flea markets in rural Spain (the best!)
    – Beautiful walkable beaches

  • Deborah

    Although I’ve never been to an Ikea store, I totally get how the sleek and unclutteredness could be soothing. But my happy place store was Nature’s Magic, a store owned by a pharmacist which sold herbs and had all kinds of crystals and new age-y things to look at, very cluttered in a delightful way. I didn’t have to dust it! But it went out of business a year ago, so I’ve lost a happy store place.

    Most happiest place is outdoors, preferably somewhere where there is no traffic noise, or where the bird song almost drowns out the car sounds.

    I burst out laughing at the donut and at Jen’s discoveries — would love to know the stories behind those things. I don’t think I’ve ever found cool stuff like that, and I feel deprived.

  • Jeannie

    My Happy Place is Seaside, Oregon in a 1920 bungalow. I walk into town for wine and chowder. I walk along the beach to refresh the soul. I want rain. I live on the dry side of Washington State. The Seattle side is getting rain/snow. I have sun and cold wind. Soon enough I will be griping because it is too hot, but not yet.
    Bostonians are an odd lot. Who knows what motivates them. Perhaps the Red Sox are playing in Paris and the loyal are using your book to make their travel plans.

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