As you may have read, October was a chilly month here. The heat has since been turned on however, and now I eagerly await my first bill so that I can know the cost of the relative luxury I've been enjoying within the newly warmed church walls. Seriously, I have high hopes for this bill. I feel that most of the obvious places where heat was bound to escape have been plugged up.
In the meantime, I've gotten use to cooking on two small camping-style burners and with a toaster oven (a highly efficient way to cook for up to two people). Also, my sleeping situation has changed somewhat, at least for the time being. Previously, I had unwittingly recreated the sleeping conditions of my infant-hood, when I shoved two pews together to create a cradle-like bed—the 'manger' as I liked to call it. Lined with wadded-up newspaper to level out the sleeping surface and then layered with two sheets of egg-crate foam, this was a surprisingly comfortable arrangement. Now I'm on a small mattress on the floor. Neither are as comfortable as my old queen-size bed, but I'm avoiding my former mattress in favor of stowaway-ability. It's important I'm able to make my bed disappear with no fuss to free up space for other of the church's functions.
At large, the xhurch feels more and more like home. I've become accustomed to a radically different color palette. The light and objects found here are strikingly distinct from anyplace I've ever lived. This is owed largely to the deep red carpets and blue-green stained glass windows, which mediate every bit of light that enters the building. I've found that it's best if I start the day by getting outdoors (even if just for a walk around the block) so as to expose myself to true daylight, and avoid the feeling of being shut-in. Working from home, and generally eating here too, the tendency is to be indoors a lot. It takes surprising discipline sometimes, especially in wintertime, just to get out.
I guess the good news is, I like my cell. There are trade-offs of course—I've outlined a few. But the church is a most-nurturing workshop, endlessly flexible, warm and spacious—accommodating, but just moody enough to keep my interest. I think I'll stay awhile.
