Tuesday, April 13, 2010


A few weeks ago, I saw a picture in a magazine of a woman's office space. It wasn't a whole room, just a desk at the end of a hall, but it was so feminine and pretty that it simply spoke to me, called to me.

I tore the page out of the magazine and stared at it for some time, returning to it again and again. What was it that it said to me? Why was I so drawn to it?

I think that the answer is that I needed a space to call my very own. Of course, we have a home filled with my influence, but I share all of my spaces with my family. Half of our small closet is mine, my very own; I have my own dresser, too. But these are functional, practical places that don't get a chance to have much personality. I wanted my own space to work, to relax, to think. A place to write, to dream....and to surround myself with things that inspire me.

The original picture was so obviously personal to the woman who owned it; there were feminine wallpapers, artwork, baskets, flowers. That's what I wanted. No, needed.

I looked around our house, and realized that the dresser in the guest room was filled with things that nobody ever used, and that with it removed, there was plenty of space in the guest room for my vision. Out the dresser went! Next, I wanted a desk. Something white, feminine, and only mine. Not a desk for paying bills; not a desk for surfing the web; not a desk for Tessa's art projects. My own desk, for writing letters, writing stories, displaying things that mean something to me.

I hunted on Craigslist for a few weeks and found what I was looking for this past weekend. So cheap it was almost free; just the right size; huge amounts of girliness.

I already had some art to put up - the Impressionist picture of two girls at the piano that I purchased in Paris in 1991; the picture of a woman reading in a garden. A few candles, a pretty vase filled with lilacs from our garden, a glass box filled with pretty notecards and silver pens, and I was nearly done.

Craigslist to the rescue one more time: a large corkboard. The plan is to paint the wood and cover the cork in a pretty fabric, but I pressed it into use right away without doing that (it will happen in its own time). I've covered it with pictures and words that speak to me, that soothe me. One day I might use it as a storyboard for my novel. It's a type of vision board, but one that I intend to change around routinely. My visions aren't of wealth and fame - they're of peace and tranquility. Right now it's mostly covered with pictures of gardens, of picnics, of jars filled with flowers. I didn't set out to do that, I just chose things that spoke to me, and that must be where I am right now.

This is my place to dream. Michele nicknamed it The Dreamery, and indeed, that is what it is. Just a little corner in which to think. A place to rest my eyes and remember who I am. A place for quiet and order and beauty.

The scent of lilacs fills the room; it feels light and airy. I feel inspired here.

I needed that. Ahhhhhh.

1 comment:

Melissa said...

your post resonated with me. I too long for my own space. My husband doesn't seem to understand this when I speak of it. I dream of my own space for creating and relaxation. My very own retreat - bright light, vibrant splashes of color, fresh flowers, scented candles, pictures, and a chaise lounge for reading and daydreaming.

For now, I create "my space" here in the kitchen at a built-in work space. One day I will have my retreat. :)

peace & wellness,