Seawitch lends itself to a kind of austerity. It starts from the raw concrete walls, extends to the simplicity of the furniture, storage, and kitchen. Daily life is also austere: cooking with a stove, a small toaster and an oven - no microwave, no rice cooker; grocery shopping only as much as one can carry from Cheung Chau; traveling only at times when there is a ferry. The physical limitations are many, but they actually release us from having too many choices. The paring away allows for something else to enter: a mental spaciousness - time for listening, watching, noticing and breathing. Time slows once the small ferry departs from the dock at Cheung Chau. The bobbing of the boat is hypnotic, lulling the shoulders to release and drop. By the time the ferry reaches The Sea Ranch pier, body and mind are shaken loose. 

 

Coming to Seawitch is like being dropped into a vacuum. We can see our rhythms and working habits, together and separate, more clearly. Despite the limited space, we continue to work as if we are at home at our own studios, each retreating to our corners to tinker/write/etc. and emerging for meals and conversation. In the past, we thought that we could only work from our studios in Beijing, but time at Seawitch has proven otherwise. Of course the scale of what is possible at Seawitch is different, but there is a sense of being released (freed) from the physical (and psychological) limits of the studio. It's an interesting and welcomed development. 

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Over the last month we have readily adapted to Seawitch's limitations (maybe even desperately needed them). The isolation we experience at Seawitch is by choice, and is absolutely luxurious. Perhaps that's what I meant by it being selfish. The noise of "the world" gets quieter, and you hear yourself better. I am reminded of the description of sensory deprivation tanks where when all other external input is blocked out, you are left with the sound of your own heartbeat. For a finite period of time, this is very peaceful. I understand everyone deals with isolation differently, but for us at this moment, it has been a gift. We retreat, and rest. 

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