Art Blog #114: Why saying 'I Need My Space' Is a Creative Power Move

If you’re the type who’s ever stayed up until 3 a.m. calculating orbital trajectories (or just reorganizing your bookshelf by theme, color, and emotional resonance), you’re one of us. Welcome.

The Duality of Space—Mental and Cosmic

For some, space is mental: the sacred void where you can chew over ideas, dissect them, and stitch them back together with terrifying precision. You’re the person who starts sketching algorithms during lunch or builds entire universes in your head while ignoring the emails piling up in your inbox.

For others, space is physical. It’s the cosmos itself—infinite, unknowable, and completely indifferent to your drama. These are the folks with star maps on their walls and rocket fuel in their veins. While the rest of humanity debates the merits of pineapple on pizza, they’re solving the Fermi Paradox or losing sleep over the heat death of the universe.

Space: The Playground for Big Brains

Let’s get one thing straight: needing space isn’t about being anti-social. It’s about prioritizing what matters—whether that’s designing the next interstellar probe or figuring out why your sourdough starter keeps dying (hint: it’s probably your fault). Space gives you room to run simulations, both literal and metaphorical, and test the limits of your own insanity. Because—newsflash—progress doesn’t come from sticking to “what’s practical.” It comes from pushing so far into the fringe that even your cat judges you.

When you claim your space, you’re creating the conditions for breakthroughs—the kind of ideas that make the world’s collective jaw drop. This isn’t “me time” with candles and bubble baths. This is hard-core brain work—the intellectual equivalent of bench-pressing a neutron star.

A Salute to the Cosmic Nerds

To the people who stare at Hubble images and think, “I can’t die until I know what’s in that nebula”—this one’s for you. You’re the ones building equations to describe spacetime curvature while everyone else is watching cat videos. You’re the people who ask the big, uncomfortable questions: Are we alone? What’s beyond the observable universe? Could a black hole be a portal to… somewhere?

Yeah, some might call you obsessive. But let’s not forget: the Wright brothers were obsessive. So was Einstein. So is every scientist, thinker, and creator who ever dared to challenge the boundaries of what’s possible.

Take Your Space—By Force if Necessary

Here’s the deal: if you don’t carve out your space, someone else will fill it with noise. Meetings. Notifications. Pointless conversations about the weather. Don’t let it happen. Guard your space like a dragon guards its hoard. Set boundaries, cancel plans, and, if needed, invent a fake illness to buy yourself time to think. Whatever it takes.

Your ideas are too big to be crammed into society’s tiny, pre-approved boxes. So take the space you need to build, to dream, to create something that makes people’s heads explode (preferably metaphorically, unless you’re an actual physicist working with antimatter).

Because, here’s the truth: the universe is infinite, but your time isn’t. So make it count. Build that rocket, solve that theorem, paint that abstract masterpiece. And the next time someone asks why you’re locked in your lab, whispering to a model of the Milky Way, just give them a deadpan look and say, “I need my space.” Then shut the door.

End