I miss camp. Why can’t grownups go to summer camp?
Here’s what my camp would look like:
Wake at 5:00 a.m. (I like getting up early in the mornings. I’d get up at 4:00 a.m. if I could fall asleep early enough the night before.)
Sit outside on the porch or leaned up against a tree in the bug-free forest that’s just outside my cabin and drink coffee, as much coffee as I want and never get jittery.
Did I mention this is a magical camp? It’s totally a magical camp. Hogwarts has nothing on this.
I sit (except when I’m standing) at the farmhouse table (that becomes a standing desk when needed) with the sun streaming in through the windows and make things. All kinds of things. Fun, happy, wonderful things.
After a morning of incredible, wonderful productivity, it’s time for lunch!
Magic, I tell you.
After lunch we have craft talks. Ira Glass, Grace Bonney, Joss Whedon, Elizabeth Gilbert, Kate Spade, Ina Garten, George R. R. Martin, Maira Kalman, Steven Pressfield, Tina Brown -- all of our favorite creative people give talks about making things, about creating, about living a big, full, wonderful life. It’s a custom-made TED talk for us, basically.
Our creative camp has a library. Of course. It has hardwood floors and nicely faded rugs. It smells like books. The floor to ceiling bookcases house every book we could ever want. It even has one of those ladders that rolls along the shelves.
Here are our tech people. They take photos of our creations (unless photography is your creative medium, in which case, you can do it) and upload them to wherever we want, in however many different DPI and formats we’d like. They write descriptions of what we made for those who plan to show them online. These are also the people who answer all our emails and return calls to husbands to tell them where the mayonnaise is in the refrigerator.
Anyone who wants to can nap, or sink into a buttery soft sofas in the den. I'm partial to the front porch swing and its ceiling painted baby-blue.