|Photo by Laura Bear|
Most important is what's on the shelves and walls. Posters from music events and trips we enjoyed, beloved books, handmade pottery (more has been added since the photo), a framed quote with a black and white picture of a solo canoe: The thoughtful soul to solitude retires. Stones and crystals to encourage mystical powers. Photographs of family and favorite photos my spouse and I took of wildlife. (Not the partying kind, the actual wild kind). The bears that visited our birdfeeder a couple Junes ago, a peregrine falcon, a goldfinch. Things I love. Things that inspire in the hope of tempting the muse. My muse is mysterious and fluctuating. I don't know the gender of my muse. Sometimes she is a lovely woman with flowing hair, sometimes an old hag, sometimes a man who strangely resembles Stephen King, sometimes my muse is a child, playing hide and seek. I become frustrated with this changeling when I can't capture an idea on the page. If only it was more reliable.
It is difficult to write great sweeping works of art when one works full-time to make a living doing something else. Yet, it is life that allows me to write at all. Experiences are the stuff of story. Mining the ideas can be daunting, but having a room of one's own, even a shared one, allows me to explore those ideas in relative peace. A cat may walk across my computer keyboard. The dog may bark. My son may call from Minnesota. My husband may want to spend some time with me. But, the space is there, even when I have to fight for it. It is worth it.
May you find your own space.