SENSORY ROOM
If the Labor Room was trying to undo something stuck in me, the Sensory Room was asking: what's underneath?
What happens when we move slowly enough to notice? Not as productivity's opposite, I'm suspicious of binaries like that but as a refusal. An experiment in being present without purpose.
Stations for attending: crushing leaves between fingers, watching light shift through windows, breathing in unfamiliar scents. Small acts my body already knows how to do.
I wanted to find ways of being that capitalism hasn't colonized yet. But I'm not sure they exist purely or that I can access them cleanly.
Maybe it’s practicing the refusal and noticing when the voice says "what's this for?" and staying anyway.
This room held the question, not the answer.