I’m technically on Spring Break right now – my schedule has now been effectively commandeered by my offspring’s, (the little Napoleon) – but I’ve been thinking a lot lately about space, and how it affects a person’s mood, and a writer’s work. I’ve moved a lot in the recent past – um, five times in five years, along with new three spaces belonging to my S.O./Better Half – and in each place I’ve had to establish a comfortable and dedicated writing space. Something that will allow me to both be present and go away at the same time. Some places have been better than others, but you do what you can, right? I can work in coffee shops or bookstores if I have to, but traveling constantly between two cities tends to stave off the cabin fever, so home – and routine – is definitely where my heart is.
You can tell by my RSS feed, too – it’s equally divided between writing blogs and design blogs. I’m afraid I’ve been dreaming of a place to rest my keyboard for years. However, one of the unexpected benefits of re-establishing a sense of home outside of your twenties is discovering and recognizing what you like, and who you are, when not tied to all the things the defined you in a previous life. I am not the same person as I was in my twenties. I am not the same person who began the Signs of the Zodiac series.
So those who follow my twitter feed have seen my tweets on some of the specific pieces I’m gathering into my home space now – knoll table, ghost chairs – things that are far more than just places to set my coffee cup, but that are a part of me defining the place that will then define me for the next few years. I am making choices that need to accommodate a blended family, and that will also affect my working mind – one that’s putting to bed one beloved series (aptly, I think), creating a new trilogy, and already entertaining two stand-alones.
Now I realize the choices I make aren’t as vast as they’d be if I were working here:
versus here:
(How can these strong spaces not affect one’s mind?)
But I’ve also made a conscious decision in these past couple of years that everything in my life is to be there by choice – nothing by accident, nothing and no one uninvited. It’s how I keep mental (and emotional) peace when traveling creates chaos in my life, and writing does the same with my mind.
So I was wondering if my friends and readers would share what you do to create a peaceful retreat in your lives? Where do you go when you want escape? What things do you gather around you that will allow you to emerge energized again? (And I’m talking small things too – I have an orchid on my table now that is specifically white, deliberately centered, giving me extreme contentment.)
Finally, where would you like to go if time, money, and responsibilities were no object at all? I’d love it if the southern California coast had a place with my name written all over it … but I suppose that’s for another time and place, and for a story that’s as yet unwritten.
