The desk I sit at each day to craft my stories-don't laugh-is my desk from junior high. Last week, under the pressure of the black hole that is my top middle drawer and the sheer weight of my determination to finish the !*&^*% book, my stalwart, maple slice of childhood began bursting at the seams.
I could boast about how the brilliant craftsmanship, the tongue and groove design, made it possible to save this relic; but, instead, I'll tell you what this desk says about me.
It makes me think about my Dad, who gave it to me as the single most important item in my twelve year old life. Having a good desk to study at in my own quiet room diverted my attention from my Jack Wagner posters and groomed me for a life of focus. Twenty years later, he hauled it across many miles to return it to me. Rags and lemon oil in hand, we brought the richness back together.
It helps me to recall how intense the raging crush I had back then must have been to have carved this boy into immortality, front and center. He was Ryan, and I can tell you that because his name eventually made it into my previous novel as the hero's given name-a secret only the heroine knows. As it was back then. Only the desk knew.
The desk has claw marks on the edge from a cat I miss dearly, hundreds of number shadows and equations visible at eye level in perfect light, and holds inside it every glimmer of hope, all tangible evidence of this dream. It's loyalty, character and history packaged into not enough space and inadequate leg room and height, but I can't think of better inspiration.
What does your space say about you?
Oh, and I'm laughing because I actually had the nipple photo on my wall
Touching. I have the desk that my father had, and I did a lot of writing on it over the years. I no longer use it for that because it wasn't built for a computer, but I still have it.
Apparently, if my space speaks to my character, I'm a mess! I will say that I know where everything is, however. And while I cannot say that my desk has history (it's fairly new), you can definately see Dad in my office too....mostly in the Post-it Notes and slips of paper stuck, stapled and pinned everywhere. And in my office, there is evidence of the right brain and the left; from the manuals to the embroidery swatches, from the accounting books to the letter blocks above the door spelling "DREAM", "IMAGINE" and "BELIEVE". I guess you can't spend 8 + hours a day someplace without your personality surrounding you. I also have pictures of my family here that I see everyday. I can almost see you at your desk, chasing your dream! You are my muse and I'm so proud of you! Luv you, Sis
How lucky for you. My husband has a dresser his grandfather made for him when he was born and I've always been so jealous of it.
My space is in progress (an ongoing Christmas present from last year) but I can tell you it now makes me so happy my productivity has at least doubled. It makes all the difference, doesn't it?
What a cool thing to have!
Hmm, my space is surrounded by big open windows (gotta love natural light), craft books, romance books, post-it notes, and pics of my family. And my chair is so comfy I never want to leave it.
Charles...I know what you mean. Technology doesn't always mesh with sentiment.
And what would life be w/o a personal cheering section, right? Love you, too, Sis 🙂
Pam...I think our muses crave the right space. I always feel it deeply when something isn't quite right around me.
Katie...Your big open windows sound amazing and inspiring.
My desk is relatively new, from last year, for my laptop, and other assorted odds and ends: DVD movies or CDs for when I need inspiration, a stack of current reference books for whatever topic I'm working on (currently Canadian history) and Writers Market to see if there is another place I can send one of my writing pieces to.
Since I'm into Feng Shui my desk points east for better creativity and success (we hope).