The Wobbly Arrow of Time

Time does seem to move in a straight shot forward, with perhaps a hiccup or two along the way, but I'm always amazed at how things approach from the future and suddenly become present. Today, for example, I started the framing of the tree house; a month ago it was simply a drawing on a piece of paper; ten years ago this land across the marsh inspired impossible dreams; two years ago I remember telling a wealthy business man friend in Stockholm about my new idea to create a space where people could come, stay for inspiration--a creative environment: renovated vintage campers, maybe even tree houses. Then this January, after a push of six months to figure out how we could pull it off financially, we made an offer, it was accepted, and the closing date set. That date moved like a sign down the bending road, from far to near, and suddenly the opaque vision-at-a-distance took on the crispness of proximity.

And now we're in it, in the midst of that thing that was so far away. William James said something about experience being like finding yourself on a stairway, and looking up or down to see more stairways. Things are more clear when they're still off in the future distance, I guess; when you enter them it's more like swimming through them, and perspective is muddled. One thing we are sure of is that we're glad we're not building a traditional three bedroom rental cottage on the coast of Maine. It's takes creativity to create creative spaces, and that's what we're in this for.

Here's what we're calling "site a" and "site b," bare and beautiful trees, for now...