By Sarah Herlong
I’m
lucky to have an entire room devoted to writing. In the Spring, I have a great
view of the blooming dog wood tree, as well as the occasional bird that alights
on the windowsill. This drives my cats crazy. Even the whip snake that coiled
itself in the vines growing up the window caused quite a stir, amongst us all.
I
sit in a somewhat raggedy yet comfortable oversized chair and roll my computer
to me via a nifty little computer desk on wheels. When I’m finished writing for
the day or night, I simply roll it away from me. Likewise I have a rolling
table that holds stacks of important papers.
Everything at my finger tips just a roll away. I have a variety of
children’s books to use as examples of age appropriate writing. Regrettably I
have a small messy pile on the floor of magazines to read, books to read and
some paperwork. This is material under the constant threat of Isis the cat, who
shreds paper like she works for a shady politician.
I
don’t have a name for my room. I rarely call it my writing room despite that
being its primary purpose. I just call it my room. It also contains my curio cabinet. Housing
the stuffed alligator, large bird skull, the glow in the dark, collapsing
skeleton, and the pink head that giggles. It’s creepy… trust me. I have a more
regal skeleton in the corner wearing a silk ribbon around its head, and a pink
necklace that my grandmother used to wear. It sits cross-legged in a chair
around a green candle. He’s a yes man. Never gives good advice.
I
try to write every day, sometimes broken up with doctor’s appointments for my
mother, or having to assist her throughout the day. She allows me as much
private time as I need for writing, but still gripes about it. She’s lonely
despite having close friends, and a daughter as an attendant. I can’t do
anything about her loneliness, but I can write about it in my room.
1 comment:
Sarah, I love the sophisticated grace in your writing. You transitioned from clever wit to heartfelt sentiment beautifully. I really love this post.
As for your topic of choice, you made me consider my own writing environment. When I sit at my desk in my home office, I am surrounded by objects representative of what and who I love, objects that inspire me, and objects that symbolize the kind of human being I want to be. Pictures of loved ones, gifts from former students, and gifts from friends I do not want to live without remind me that I am loved, even on days when my writing has taken me down dark and lonely paths. A picture and autographed ball of Serena Williams hangs to the left of my desk as a reminder that with hard work and tenacity greatness is possible. To the right is a picture of Pinky and The Brain, reminding me to find humor in life even when trying to "take over the world!" I feel so fortunate to have this room where I can create, challenge myself, and feel at peace.
Post a Comment