this is one of my sacred spaces in seattle. it deafens out the sirens, buskers, hipster malaise and belltown bridge & tunnel braggadocio right in the middle of the hill.  i go there on friday nights after work and before i hit a meeting or after the meeting when i don't want to go home but have no place i'm needed. its quiet, the wood absorbs the life outside rather than blocking it. it breathes it in and expels it through a florescent buzz. i love the light.  the off the kelvin scale brightness renders its contents in some suspended state of hyper-reality. it feels like i walked into a photograph. only i can smell it - the wood. such a comforting smell that takes me back to boathouses on the chesapeake bay, the woods behind central park circle and every stable in virginia that i stepped foot in. and my first time. my first time in that barn in middleburg at the end of fox chase weekend. exhausted and muddy, my 13 year old body smelling of horse sweat and leather. expecting nothing more when she walked in than to get paid for tacking up after her horse.

{guest post and photo by tasha c.}