sabbatical Overview

 

You have a project that's been waiting.

Maybe it lives in a drawer. Maybe it's a file you open on Sunday nights with good intentions and close an hour later when real life shows up. Maybe you've never told anyone about it because saying it out loud makes it feel too real — and too possible to fail.

You're a writer with a novel that deserves more than stolen weekends. An artist with a body of work living in your head. A musician, a maker, an academic, a craftsperson. Someone who knows — quietly, stubbornly — that you have something real in you.

You are tired of waiting for the right time.

This is the right time.

THE SCENE

You arrive on a Tuesday afternoon in late March.

The cabin smells like pine. There's a desk by the window that looks out into the trees. You unpack — notebooks, paints, laptop, whatever you brought — and for the first time in longer than you can remember, nobody needs anything from you.

You make coffee. You sit down. You begin.

The days here have a rhythm that feels almost unfamiliar at first. Work. Walk. Eat. Sleep. Work again. No commute. No inbox. No one stopping by your desk. Just the sound of the woods outside your window, the long quiet light of a Maine spring morning, and the steady accumulation of work you can actually be proud of.

By the end of week one you remember what it feels like to be fully inside something.

By the end of week two you're somewhere you've never been before with this project.

By the time you pack your car to leave — you have something finished. Something real. Something you made.

This is not a vacation. It's a reckoning. This is what it feels like to take your work seriously.

  • 3 Weeks · $3,375 · $1,125 per week

    Some things just need a serious push.

    Three weeks is enough time to finish a first draft, complete a body of paintings, break through the wall you've been staring at for months. Long enough to find your rhythm. Short enough to feel like a sprint.

    You arrive. You go deep. You leave with something done.

    Spring 2026 dates — pick your three weeks: Session 1: March 15 – April 5 Session 2: April 7 – April 28 Session 3: April 29 – May 20 (possible custom dates can be accomodated)

    What's yours: Your private cabin in the Maine woods. High-speed WiFi — or go completely dark, your call.

    This is not a vacation. It's a reckoning.

    Three weeks from now, you will have done the thing_ that has been your hearts desire.

  • 5 Weeks · $3350 · $1,125 per week

    Some work deserves your whole self.

    A novel. A full collection. A body of work you've been circling for years. Five weeks gives you the rarest thing a creative person can have — time you can actually settle into. Time to go slow when the work asks for it. Time to sit with something hard, take a long walk, come back, and crack it open.

    Week one, you decompress. Week two, you find your footing. Weeks three and four — this is where it happens. The kind of sustained, unhurried making that simply isn't possible in ordinary life. Week five, you are finishing. You can feel the shape of the whole thing.

    You leave with a completed draft. A finished series. The thing you came here to make.

    Spring 2026 dates — pick your five weeks: Session 1: March 15 – April 19 Session 2: April 16 – May 20

    What's yours: Everything in The Spark, plus a welcome basket on arrival, flexible check-in and check-out, a mid-stay linen refresh, and priority access to food packages. Small things that add up to one big feeling — you are completely taken care of.

    This is what it feels like to take your work seriously.