I loved seeing where you write. The internet is wonderful for bringing other people’s corners into my house. A world I may never see into mine.
If I lived where I want to, as I want to, I would happily share a photo with you but this is not my home, this house I live in. And my most common writing space is a disaster. I am not exaggerating the mess. In previous posts I have said I will stop living in the future, in my head, and I will do something about this mess. I will.
I’m sitting up in bed in a position that is not good for my already aching back. The big cat is curled slammed against my hip, breathing slowly. The curtain on the right window is permanently half up so that, as soon as I wake, I can see tree, an illusion of Not being in the inner city. All I hear right now is the sound of a native bird. I’m ashamed to say I don’t know which bird but it’s an interesting cry, striking, and not one I’ve heard round here. Makes me smile, nice way to start the day. It’s a day off work so normally the day should have well and truely started but hey…
To my left is a cluttered bedside table. Tablets, phone, drinks. Two bursting bookcases, a mantelpiece weighed down with photos and blue and white china. A larger tv than I’ve ever had – football in high definition on Friday nights. And under the left window the desk that is waiting to be useful but instead holds a big old computer that doesn’t work, and piles of paperwork that wax and wane. During the high school years my son’s assignments came to life there, with his back to me.
The rest of the room is more piles – things that don’t have a place elsewhere in this house but are yet to be sorted and dispersed. Throw away, give away, put away. Just do it. Put where? Waiting for ‘my’ house, that place that feels me and is home.
My altar is to the right. And above one window and the french doors my prayer flags. Yes, inside.
Oh and Maddie, I wanted to tell you since you have that wallpaper, this room has padded material on the walls. Beige. What the?
This is a desk I bought some time ago thinking that a sweet table like this would flood my writing with inspirational energy – it’s a little bit tiny though eh?!?!?
The other place I write is at the dining table and perhaps I will describe that when I’m downstairs doing it. A dining table in another house, with the sea in my sight, is my most favourite place to write and when/if I get there again I will happily share.
If you’re reading this and you’re not Maddie you might like to read her post, and you might like to share too? And if you smell something? Scroll down through the comments under Maddie’s post – that’s just TW working on his next book 🙂