Safe House {Notes on a Former Refuge}

It was strong, sequestered, secure. It had great bones! It was a place the artist went to compose, conceptualize, create, rest and later, revise. It was a former piano factory in the heart of downtown in a community of the creative class. It was luxurious in its renewed spirit, newly opulent since its heyday. Where it stood doesn’t really matter. It was a safe house to an artist, and therefore, it shall remain so. Old factories and warehouses repurposed for a vibrant humanity, existing in rust belt towns, largely in urban regions of the working class. These are notes on a former refuge, a safe house. Creativity flourished here. It was a sanctuary, and they’re vital to our arts communities, wherever they stand! Without them, art slowly dies. We’re left bereft, eventually, in an unfilled void of abandonment and decline. This is not an elegy to a former abode. This is a prayer that spaces like these continue on toward the future for humanity’s sake. Amen.

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