A Building To Be Alone In is a vision for an architectural design that bloomed from my confined mind in the midnight hour of May 22, 2023. The centre frame of this video is a screenshot of my Miro board at the start of the brainstorm. It includes AI-generated photos, prompted by the post-it notes beside them (a new feature at the time). Of course, AI images can't capture my full vision, because it has never been done before. Only I can innovate my heart’s unmanifest desires. Hm. Notable Attributes: - Seasalt pool, indoor with vaulted glass ceilings connected to the outdoors via underwater swimway, with craggy coastal bedrock reaching out into its depths (partially inspired by Piscina das Maréss by Álvaro Siza) - Lush gardens full of native plants. Lounging zones covered in soft mosses and daisies to lay in while you run your fingers through the pond. - Everything designed to fit just one person. One chair, one stool, one seat per spot, for you. - Completely safe, guarded, secured, protected. You can interact with the natural outside world, but the outside world can not see, interact with, or perceive you. You become settled in this. - A Solitary Ecosexual Utopia — I recorded the video's audio in my car while watching the sun set over Qualicum Beach this week. It was my first solo vaycay in years, and while it was a nourishing experience, complete with moments when I was close to my freest self (morning river skinny dips!?), there were also many moments when I felt the sting of mandatory socialization, of being inescapably perceived. I recorded these whispers just so I could hear them back. Just so I could be reminded that a building to be alone in DOES exist - if only, for now, in my mind. Although I am repeating “A Building To Be Alone In” over + over, there are times when the caption-creator alters my words, admitting “need to be alone” or even “a building to be allowed in,” as though recognizing that less than my full self is allowed most anywhere else. The top sunset is from my ferry home. The bottom trees are from the Nanoose hike. --- At the beach, I write: There r ppl everywhere Little boys watching me at dinner Are they looking up to me, or disturbed by my limp wristed queerness ? (both?) . Teenaged girls, like I used to be Squealing to get my attention as they join me in the evening ocean calm ? Or oblivious to their OWN publicness? . There are scary men everywhere, and while before, I felt untouchable, protected by all of society (white woman priviledge fr), I now feel at risk of confrontation. Men talk to me more, strike up a conversation, and while this is certainly euphoric at times, it can also feel invasive, every stranger a loose cannon. How do I perform for each to ensure my safety? What if I am too tired to perform, what if I forget? A building to be alone in Is for my soul to be alone in Like I want my body to feel again A safe and private house for all my truths I want to sex myself out on the raft at sunset With no one nowhere watching or hearing me No boats passing by No yelling teens No social censorship Social anxiety Could the building to be alone in be a space for me to return to my Centre from within ? A building to get in my body in. To stretch To dance To cum To cry To pray with my lungs on bellow. A building to inhabit more fuller selves in. With a rushing river flowing into the Salish Sea. This building would be the UL-timate Luxuryyyy 🥰🤩😌🤲🏻🌊🌲🫶🏻⭐️🙌🏼 Solitude is a luxury; and, a key element in the cultivation of philosophical wisdom. Who would I be ; become? Being in a building to be alone in. In my building to be alone in, I can never wonder if I’m risking being witnessed by a human with their own ego’s restrictions. That’s it, isn’t it. I want to see who I am, who it REALLY really am, without my ego perceiving another’s ego, perceiving me.