I felt like going back into my studio in the attic of the Blue Barn today. I think I just plain miss it.
In a funny way, since it's been stored away, I remember it through the photos, and it feels more like a real place I've lived in than if it were right in front of me, on a table, in one inch to one foot scale.
As real as my old studio, at home, that also exists, as it was, only in photographs. So much of the world is all in our heads, it turns out.