Scrappy adventures at home
In a creative outburst (or desperation on day 40 of lockdown), we pitched a tent in our living room and went camping. We blew up the deluxe mattress, brought down our duvets, and hung a super bright lantern. The six-year-old asked for spooky stories, the eleven-year-old asked for more bouncing on that deluxe mattress, the forty-four-year-old husband gave up and headed for an actual bed, alone. As I fell asleep with the kids, we looked at the sky and trees through windows, snuggling into the warmth of indoor camping and our even cozier imaginations.
As we’re increasingly longing to be out in the world, we’ve also starting to think about how we can bring our favorite places indoors. We’re learning in our very scrappy way how to recreate a little of our former world’s magic in our domestic unbliss. Thrown together with whatever we have lying around the house, our manifestations at home are ungainly, un-Pinterest worthy recreations, but somewhere in our souls, they are filling an ever-growing need to be somewhere else, with you in the world outside.
We’ve noticed on social media the creeping in of festivals, discos, museums, into our living rooms, gardens, kitchens. We’re seeing a blending together of before and now, and a relentless hope that once was will come back again. For now, our attempts at capturing the spirit of where we once gathered will have to do.
Here’s our rundown of what we’re missing and how we’re, and you perhaps, are bringing places out there in here.
Cafes: Missing, missing, missing. We admit to buying a coffee maker as Step 1 of our lockdown journey (not sure there was a Step 2) and have since spent way too much time working out how to make an oat milk latte with froth (who needs to write the next NYT bestseller?). Add in Spotify’s Coffeehouse playlist, find a quirky chair at home, and nurse that coffee for 3-4 hours while trying not to make eye contact with anyone else. Maybe even throw $7 in the bin if you live in the Bay Area. You are almost, almost there.
Festivals: Can of wine, loud music, and deck chair on whatever outside space we can find. Kids running wild. We’ve nearly nailed it. The only things left are to throw mud at our tent, find the wellies, and start smoking.
Bakeries: A friend is baking cookies and cakes for distraction. Actually, everyone is baking cookies and cakes for distraction. There’s a run on flour and yeast and cultivating a sourdough starter has just become the new learning a language of lockdown. We’re also opening cookbooks like “50 most calorific things you can cook today with real sugar”, rather than “The Joy of Kale and Brown Rice”. Scents of bread baking, old school achievement, something to eat that isn’t from a can or cereal. Also comfort eating – it is a requirement to comfort eat right now. Pairs well with white wine at the end of the day. This is not the moment to diet, numb feelings yes with carbohydrates and alcohol. No one can see you anyway.
Coworking: If you live alone, sorry this one is going to be tough; you could make cut out figures as today’s art project and prop them next to your laptop while smiling at them occasionally. If you live with other people, just find any table, crowd around it, write an aspirational saying like ‘We work best together’ somewhere on a wall, and occasionally high-five each other. Points for adding name tags.
Indie cinema: Just switch out Netflix for National Theater Live, add in posh popcorn and a vodka tonic, and you’ve got the vibe.
Museum: Entry-level efforts, hang all the new creations you’ve been working on with everyone else on a wall in a pretty way. Add wall labels with cute names and give the whole thing a title (no, “Untitled” is cheating). Even better hang them on a wall outside and call it ‘Public Art’. But if you want to take it seriously, and you do, because you know ‘Art’, then follow the lead of New Jersey resident Teresa Mistretta. If you want to get super fancy, make your home into one of those experiential museums – paint your walls candy-colored (you need a DIY project right now). Even better, make merchandise in said theme to sell back to yourself.
Library / Bookstore: Those books on your shelves at home you’ve been meaning to read, now is the time to actually read them, not just wave at them. That might mean pulling I Could Pee on This off your shelves, but hopefully, you have something lying around like Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking. If going for the library vibe, post them back through your front door for added return affect. If indie bookstore, make cute piles randomly around your house. For either, go crazy and curate subject areas, that only you understand – brave princesses who’ve learned to say no, self-help for the days you hate everyone, chick-lit which you basically see as the great American novel but are too ashamed to say so. You could also print a cool Indie Store name on the side of a paper bag and shop your shelves. We always wanted to own a bookstore.
Lecture series: You can be inspirational too. Watch something by Brene Brown or Elizabeth Gilbert or Glennon Doyle, then hold forth at dinner about the value of vulnerability, creativity, love. Your co-lockdown companions will appreciate your Ted Talk at the kitchen table. They might even take notes.
Safari: If you have pets, just follow them around the house for an hour, narrating their escapades. Maybe even give them a backstory that adds drama – you need an arc for this one to work. Make sure to practice a Megan Markle narrating Elephants range of emotion.
Retreat: Basically, lockdown with some sort of epiphany and hiding alone in your bedroom trying not to talk to anyone.
Places in the world – we miss you. And though our attempts to make you real in our living rooms and gardens may be naff, they’ll have to do for now. One day when we visit you again, we will shower you with love and attention and never take you for granted again. We Promise.
