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Places that soothe

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23:27 / 15.11.04

Not bolt-holes, exactly; places you go when you feel frazzled, which give your the time and space to unravel, enter a trance-like state.

Mine, bizarrely, is Selfridges' Menswear. It may not seem like an oasis of inner calm, but it invariably does it for me. It's utterly vast, and perfectly designed for men, in that one can drift aimlessly around it for hours, flitting from one designer territory to the next. Most importantly, the assistants are clearly trained in non-pushiness: linger for a long time, and they'll eventually go through the whole 'can I help you' routine; otherwise, they'll leave you to it.

I find it pleasantly mind-numbing. I ascend the escalator to Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Lauren, and my mind immediately switches to neutral. Flutter through Agnes B, fingering the fabrics; linger at Kenzo, admiring the butterfly-like ties; sniff the cashmere at John Smedley. Dance around the entire Formal Wear section, checking out different pinstripes and overcoats. Luxuriate in Paul Smith velvets, stroke the Belstaff leathers. Waft dreamily Maharishi...

It's a beautifully autopilot sensory experience. If you've got money in the bank and could actually afford to buy anything, the sensations are heightened; if not, it's still soothing and lovely (particularly if you look like someone who could potentially go spendy-spendy).

What're your soothesome places?

23:30 / 15.11.04

There was this old discarded oil tank that used to lean up against ou shed. Id sit on that and let the sunrise hit me, good times, good times.

23:35 / 15.11.04

From Selfridges Menswear to a discarded oil tank. Good times indeedy!

23:48 / 15.11.04

Sadly or not sadly, however you look at it, my bolt hole is my home. It truly is.

It's quiet here, I can see the stars. I can hear the mice squeek as they search around for I know not what in my loft. Cities I love, but they are hard work when you have Synaesthesia. There are lots of emergency sirens and just noises that are visually wearing.

My home is my retreat from the world, from the loud sounds of it, from the shriek and the fight of it. There's no sound other than the natural sounds of the country (and the slightly fucked-up cockerel who crows at lunchtime) and there are no street lights - you have to have your torch with you to find the right key to open the door and I like that.

Goodness Gracious Meme

00:58 / 16.11.04

God, me too.

My flat is mine, all mine. (well, the landlord's but anyywaay...)

It's my bolthole, my safe space. I turn the key in the lock and know that everything's up to me. It's decorated in my way, full of my favourite things and is only ever peopled by people I choose to be in it.

Others have said it's a comfortable and hospitable space, and I like that tooo.

Also, it's close to the sea, which is my other place of ultra-soothe. I have very few moods which aren't soothed by standing at the water's edge/listening to the waves crash/swimming/watching sunset or rise over the sea.

Tryphena Absent

01:40 / 16.11.04

Cities I love, but they are hard work when you have Synaesthesia

I grew up with mild synaesthesia in the city and the country always seemed weirdly empty as a result. The total lack of noise and light made me feel lonely, not that sirens and road works don't make my head twist but I think I get a kick out of the eternal confusion they cause.

I find the city on a Sunday afternoon really seals my wounds. I love how old and big and empty it is. I feel like it watches and protects me and I can wander around for hours. There is always something new to discover- the house of Dorothy Sayers, a reconstructed arch from the 16th century... and if I feel miserable it's like, if I keep on walking then eventually self pity is written away and absorbed by the pavement I step on.

My other place, I've mentioned this on barbelith before I think, is the Rothko room in the Tate Modern. I find it completely absorbing, I can sit there for hours even though I must know every inch of every painting on display by now. It's something about the textures and play of light and the benches are so comfortable and I like the story of the series. Oh it's just so much better than anything else. I only really go there when I don't want to cry, it pauses my life, it's as if nothing can intrude when I'm in that room. Actually it's like being by the sea.

And recently I walked through a square (actually it was a circle) in East London with a big 1980's block of flats on one side and a semi-circle of town houses on the other. I haven't been back yet but I think it might be the same. The contrast of buildings just zapped me, I hope it was as good as I thought it was.

05:54 / 16.11.04

As a wee girl my favourite bolt-hole was an easily climbed yew tree in grounds of the Astlie Ainslie hospital. The mulchy woodland floor smells and murmuring of a nearby stream calmed me in the midst of familial strife, an invaluable resource in my childhood. As I remember, I even named the tree (Betsy) and would tell it my troubles. Recently went back to visit my old friend and noticed that some kids had built a gang hut underneath it. Clearly my tree friend is the nurturing type.

Currently my bolt-hole is my home, a very new experience for me, so I'm trying not to get too carried away with nesting behaviour.

The local canal is also a peaceful retreat for me. Late at night the bridge next to the brewery is terribly atmospheric with strangely not unpleasant brewery smells, a mysterious bricked up old church (I reckon people worship elder gods there), tons of squeeky bats and sleepy ducks. I'm quite the city dweller these days so urban wildlife has become more and more important to me.

06:29 / 16.11.04

A menswear department? What a strange chap you are.
When I was little, about 7 or so, it used to be a space under a hedge, just by a path so that I could see people's feet go past but they didn't know I was there. I would sit there and play with leaves and just feel calm.
Nowadays ... hmm. Hard to say. Basically anywhere so long as I'm on my bike. I get on and ride, and instantly things look different.

06:40 / 16.11.04

My favourite bolt-hole is in the tiny space between the ceiling of Ganesh and Xoc's flat and the floorboards of the flat above. It's a bit of a squeeze, but if I crawl in on my stomach and peer through the holes I've drilled in their ceiling it gives me a warm feeling all over.

But really... Not sure I have a bolt-hole any more. Not sure I have time to bolt from everything. When work does get too much I like to escape into Waterstone's in Bradford, which is built inside a tremendous former wool market with superb vaulting ceilings and the reassuring clank of crockery from the Starbucks on the mezzanine floor.

At home, I like to go into our very small garden late at night for a fag. There's a kind of old mill behind us which is now a polythene factory and always dark and quiet at night, and beyond that the fields and the edge of the moors. It gets incredibly dark at night (no streetlights in that direction) and I always feel calm and reflective, especially if there's a mist creeping in. And then I think about zombies and finish my fag quickly and get indoors.

Similarly to Ganesh, I've always liked Selfridge's menswear as well, either the Trafford Centre at Manchester or the new space blob at Birmingham. It's true they don't hassle you if you just walk around rubbing the Paul Smith jackets, and the female assistants are always on the right side of mildly flirtatious without being over the top.

06:42 / 16.11.04

Oh, and this is very twee and non-Barbelith, but there's nothing like slipping into Zoot's nursery in the middle of the night and sitting there in the darkness, listening to his regular breathing. One day he's going to wake up and be really freaked out by that.

STOATIE LIEKS CHOCOLATE MILK

08:59 / 16.11.04

Abney Park Cemetery, not twenty yards from my front door. Although at the moment it can sometimes be quite upsetting as it reminds me of many happy hours spent there with my dog, it's still the nicest, most chilled place I know.
And when it snows, it's beautiful.

09:25 / 16.11.04

Ohhh yes, the South Bank bank is wonderfully soothing in so many ways from the Thames itself to the Tate... it also close to The Market Porter my favourite pub...

ONLY NICE THINGS

09:30 / 16.11.04

Not sure I have time to bolt from everything.

Heard _that_.

I generally get boltholes, which then cease to be boltholes for whatever reason. I think one of those reasons is that I'm extremely gregarious, so I tend to associate places with people, and subsequently they cease to be boltholes.

At the moment, I have my study, which is not currently much of a refuge because it is _so damnably untidy_. If I can ever get it under control, then that's quite fortress of solitudetastic...

The first floor of Borders in Oxford Street, I suspect for the same reasons (approximately) as Selfridges Menswear: people leave you alone, and there are armchairs hidden away among the stacks, so you can get your head down and catch up on the papers.

I haven't tried it recently, but I used to go to video arcades quite a bit, because everyone was so intent on being someone else doing something else that it was quite zen. I think I'd probably find them a bit tensemaking these days, though.

Beaches at night, generally; there's a lot to be said for standing next to something huge and indifferent when you're stressed. There are a couple of places on the South Coast where I have found the calming effect of the sea something of a life-saver.

At the moment, the Parthenon room of the British Museum, when it's not too crowded, and the South Bank, especially when it's pleasantly cold and empty. When I was a kid I used to go down to the river and sit under the bridge (yes, like a troll, hardy har). When I get old, maybe I'll follow the family trail out to the salt marshes or the Dyfi valley. Water good...

09:49 / 16.11.04

Are you guys doing an Abbott and Costello routine?

I don't think I have anywhere in London that I can escape too, possibly just my room which has everything I need.

Back home there was Linkwood which was only a 10 minute walk from my house, beatiful little stretch of forest with lots of hidden paths, one leading to the fishing pond which I'm pretty sure had no fish. Or maybe just the shed in the garden I used to like to go in there and watch the spiders.

I quite like my garden at the moment, especially when it's windy, there's an old big tree that I like to watch when I'm a little out of it.

I should build a tree house.

10:06 / 16.11.04

The really ugly building that houses my university sits on the edge of Belfast Lough. There's a hatch in one of the walls that leads to a ladder by which you can get onto the roof of one of the blocks. When I need to get away, that's where I go. You walk to the end of the block and sit...it juts out far enough that none of the other blocks are in your field of vision. The wind whips around you and the Lough sits there, dark and silent, with all the lights of the city clustered around it. It's beautiful, quiet, and very relaxing.

11:53 / 16.11.04

Very strangely I was also thinking of the South Bank, and prior to reading this thread was just drawing it and describing the delights of the Tate, Market Porter, the George and Borough Market coupled with the views of the Thames to my students.

I do find it quite soothing there, but also soothing is grabbing a chair in Borders, usually in a section like "Computing" or "Reference" so you can hide from most of the people, and hanging out with a stack of books or magazines. I could while away many and hour there, and have!

Hattie's Kitchen

13:02 / 16.11.04

My soothsome places are primarily my flat, where I can immerse myself in countless DVDs and PS2 battles for hours on end, and also where I can indulge in the odd joint and chill-out mix CD when I'm feeling frazzled.

I also love the South Bank, I work right around the corner from Borough Market and Southwark, and a walk along the riverfront always seems to calm me down and instill new energy...

I still visit my former abode, Crouch End, just because it has a cosy villagey atmosphere and lots of shops and cafes you can happily spend a few hours in.

Also Hampstead Heath in the summertime, just to walk around and be close to the trees, man...

Curiously enough, I have been drawn to visiting a Catholic church round the corner from me, as it's somewhere that's utterly still and silent, and where I can go to do some serious contemplation away from the usual distractions.

13:08 / 16.11.04

NC Highway 55 at night. Pretty vacant, but you can see the stars so clearly, and there are occassionally little creatures wandering around with bright eyes. There are run down stores from the fifties in that neighborhood, where you can buy bait or feed if you need that kind of thing, and it just makes me feel very calm.

13:34 / 16.11.04

On campus here, there is a little sidewalk between the tennis courts and the track that nobody ever goes near. Its got a nice little grassy spot where you can lay down and no one on campus can see you. The view of the sky is usually fantastic, and it's on the side closest to the train tracks, so there are some fun sounds to meditate with. Great spot late at night.

13:41 / 16.11.04

I love sitting right where I am, in my bolthole bed, still in my wrinkled pjs (it's 10:30am here so it's not as bohemian as it might sound, alas...) drinking coffee and checking my email on my laptop. Especially if someone I love has sent me a happy email or p.m. And my dogs are both here sleeping, slightly snoring. And my cat periodically walks across my hands. And the light is soft because all the leaves have fallen off the trees but it's cloudy and damp outside and there's a jet zooming overhead and a dog barking in the distance and the rumble of the highway and all is right with the world even though I'm really really behind on my work. To which I must now return, alas.

14:59 / 16.11.04

The car. With the stereo cranked and no place in particular to go.

15:19 / 16.11.04

Where I used to live - where I grew up - it was the beach. In the off-season, when I could be alone (or nearly so). In the winter I'd drive there and park right up against the sea wall, shut the car off and leave the radio on, and just sit.

Now I'm in the city. And, actually, these days I don't need a bolt-hole as often as I used to. A bear hug from my SO, who lives with me, usually takes care of frazzled nerves - as totally cheez-ee as that sounds. But sometimes I do relish getting in bed early with a book, especially a freshly made bed heaped with comforters on a chilly night.

15:22 / 16.11.04

My flat provides a bit of a bolt-hole, and it’s a nice place to retreat to from windy reality. I haven’t yet got a curtain in my room, so I feel like people can look down on me from the flats on the other side – and see me surfing the net for porn or whatever.

Problem is, I work in my bedroom too, so the demands of the outside world do intrude quite often (so, in fact, it has fallen short of all the requirements of a sanctuary - what the fuck am I talking about?). I hate that thing you get when the phone actually sounds angry or something.

16:30 / 16.11.04

Are you guys doing an Abbott and Costello routine?

Haha! I wondered if anyone was going to say anything about that.

For me it's quite simple : The streets at night. There's something really peaceful about it that helps me clear my head.

On a daytime I'd say the fields near where I live, even though I don't go there as often as I'd like to, it's still great when I do.

16:43 / 16.11.04

There's a bit of railroad track (the oldest stretch of railroad in the US, I believe) that runs near my house, through some old woods that used to be part of a still-existant historic town. "Used to be" because there are some stonework foundations, blocks obviously carved out of the hills they nestle among, which can be seen off the side of the tracks when the trees are bare or if you know where to look for them.

I often spend afternoons walking up the tracks, occasionally accompanied by some like-minded friends, eyes at my feet and falling into a bit of a rhythmic trance, stopping at one of the ruins or the occasional small waterfall to sit and listen. Walking back becomes a slow return to civilization, first a parking lot, then a lovely coffee shop, then busy roads again. The soft transition back helps me deal with things much longer once I return, I think.

16:54 / 16.11.04

When I was growing up I had two. For ages (until I got the growths) I would crawl up on an upper shelf of the airing cupboard and sleep amoungst the warm, clean towels and blankets.

Then when older, there was a factory outlet near home that sold designer clothes cheap, to get there you had to go down an alley. If you went on past the door to the outlet, there was a kind of mini-water-fall, where the river was channelled under the local shopping centre. It was a calm mixture of nature and industrial, and you couldn't hear anything but the rush of water. I used to go there a lot. Me and a friend even wrote and illustrated a story about us and a couple of friends pulling off a daring raid of over-sized trousers and escaping to an amazing underground world down the tunnel that the waterfall flowed into.

Nowdays it's the bedroom or the bathroom - anywhere to read alone really.

17:06 / 16.11.04

Hrrm. I don't spend much time outside anymore, I realize, and that makes me sad. There's no time to go out exploring anymore. Growing up, I had all kinds of wonderful hidey-holes in trees and bushes and along creeks. Always with the muddy shoes and leaves in the hair. As a teenager, my refuge became my car - I'd spend hours driving aimlessly on country roads with all the windows down, listening to REM and feeling windblown and Byronic.

Nowadays, I have no outdoors to speak of and no car. I take refuge at home... in a house I love, in a town I love, surrounded by things and people I love. My books, my music, snuggling with kitties and with the man o' the house. Gardening. Puttering in the kitchen.

I miss outdoors-ing, though. I really need to move out to the country...

17:36 / 16.11.04

(Strange, lovely as all those outdoorsy places sound, the most seductive place described here is, to me, the Tate Modern's Rothko room that Anna described. Possibly because I responded so strongly to it when I was there last year. I just wanted to sit there all day. I am so jealous of anyone who lives close enough to become great friends with those paintings.)

22:27 / 16.11.04

Until I was 18, I loved the abandoned stone quarry behind my house. No one about, nice ruins, and a lovely creek running through the woods around there. Unfortunately, it's now underneath a subdivision. (BASTARDS!!!)

Nowadays, I think it's anywhere with water. Sitting by canals, rivers, lakes, etc. make me relax like nothing else. Sitting in a bookstore with a coffee is quite good too, as is taking a long bus ride with a cup of coffee... but sitting down by the lake is by far the best.

Less searchable M0rd4nt

13:28 / 18.11.04

The café in the big magic shop near where I live. It's small but airy and well lit. It smells of cake and incense and there's usually something magicky going on, like just now when I went in and two guys were practicing their chanting at the next table. Very soothing.

15:13 / 18.11.04

When I had a car, I would have said Jack Fear's answer - but alas, the Buck landyatch is long gone.

I don't get there very often, because the admission fees are steep for my budget, but the Art Gallery of Ontario has a room dedicated to Henry Moore which is quite astonishing. White, skylit, and a dozen or more of Moore's pieces set up so you can view them from all sides. It's almost surreally peaceful, and I'm quite concerned the AGO is going to botch it up during their rennovations process.

Less expensively, I tend to take refuge in a nearby series of parks and historical cemetaries; I like the way that the kid's petting farm bleeds into the Necropolis across the street. My Saturday night escape tends to be a dance floor at a local goth club; since I don't give a toss what anyone thinks of me, it's the perfect place for trancing out to the music and dancing like a lunatic.

It's not very practical, but the place I feel most at ease is the south-western U.S. desert region, especially the red sand canyonlands.

15:40 / 18.11.04

I have a few places that I find soothing, where I can just be me and relax:

Art Supply Stores. They excite me too, but more in a awestruck, joyous exhilartion, that stills me enough to take in the endless possibilities of creation. It's like the zen of art supplies.

Near water. I have to agree with Baz on this. I luckily, have always lived near a large body of water. I find it calms my fiery nature.

On my deck, watching a splendid sunset with a spliff and a glass of wine. Although, it is getting a little cold for that.

This one is quite brief, and I am not sure if it counts but, getting my hair washed at the salon. For those few minutes I am utterly transported to some magical stress-free paradise. You jut can't think of worries when someone is expertly massaging your brain with their fingertips.

10:31 / 19.11.04

Mine are mainly in the village where I grew up:

My bedroom in my parents' house - I painted it myself, stuck stones on the walls, and although I haven't lived in that house for sometime, it is still my room. Much of my stuff is still there, where I left it when I moved out. I seem to move house so much that nowhere really feels like home, especially because I rent and am not allowed to decorate at all (or even put up posters, etc). I go back there and rummage through my old stuff and it is just soothing to be back there.

The woods - To get there you have to walk through a field, and that's calming, especially when corn is growing. The wood is at the top of the hill, and just before you go inside, you can look down at the faraway village. There is a centre point in the wood that is dipped down a little, and there is a great atmosphere and it feels like somewhere that people have gone to celebrate for hundreds of years. I have held parties there a few times. On the way there, you pass trees that have graffiti on them from the 1960s, trees that have grown over barbed wire, trees that are still there that fell during the storm of 1987, and some wonderful fungi. At the right time of year there are bluebells. It's quiet up there, no-one around apart from the occasional dog-walker. I feel so free when I walk around there by myself.

13:17 / 19.11.04

I'm going to the New Forest now to see my horse. He had to move to a new yard recently which unfortunately is quite close to the motorway. But I'm getting used to the noise, in fact I'm starting to really like it because it's such a stark contrast to the peace and quiet of the New Forest. I went to see my horse late in the evening last week. I gave him his feed and then leant against him with my head on his back, looking up at the sky which was full of stars whilst listing to the traffic noise, which seemed to come from a completely different world... Very precious moment. (And I felt very sorry for all those people that don't have horses to lean against on starry nights.)

20:22 / 19.11.04

Princess street gardens, feeding the squirrels with bought nuts.

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