Where to Write?
Most of the time, I write in my office. It’s a little room at the back of our house, I guess it would be a little bedroom for a kid or something. It has a closet and a window. There is nothing special about it.
When we moved into this house almost five years ago, I painted this room with paint that was left over from painting the living room. If I remember right, the colour was called tarragon, but I might be wrong about that. I’m glad that I did paint this room though, it makes it feel more like it’s mine.
Over Christmas, we were gone for about a week. I’m not too sure what happened over the course of that week besides eating way too much, driving way too much and drinking way too much, but something must have because since we returned home a great purge has begun and it’s kind of exciting. Somewhere along the way, I guess I decided that I have too much stuff and that said stuff is in a state of disarray. Why this should suddenly occur to me when it has been damn obvious for years I cannot explain, but it did. The weird thing about it is that it seemed to occur to my husband independently and at about the same time.
So the great purge began. It will continue for a long, long time I am sure. We have a house full of crap we do not use, particularly like or need that is spontaneously annoying me. The purge began in the basement studio for him, and in the office for me. I am still working on it, but it feels good, oh so good, to go through random piles of crap, recycle, donate and throw the bleep away all of this crap. The studio has come out on top as far as time goes. It looks great. The office inherited a desk from the studio which pleased me greatly, because now I have more surface area to spread my crap around on.
My office will never be clean. It will never be tidy and it certainly will never been minimalist in what it contains. That’s not even necessarily what I’m going for. What I do hope for is a better use of space, more organization and to keep the crap contained to things I need, use or really love at least. This is where I write, after all. Until I started this purge I guess I didn’t realize how important this room has become to me. We have a very beautiful living room that is always clean, and an office and a studio that have morphed into horrible pile-laden pits of stuff. We never go in the living room, that’s where the dogs sleep. Our lives happen elsewhere.
- New Year, New Room… (apocketfullofposie.com)