computer at desk

It’s where things are made — by which I mean the scribbles on book-planning notecards, the editing for others, the social media distractions and promotions, the dreaming.

Listen to me read this piece here:


 

“…To have a room of her own, let alone a quiet room or a sound-proof room, was out of the question…” — Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

“It doesn’t really matter what or where it is, as long as it is yours. I don’t necessarily mean that it has to belong to you. Only that, for the time that you’re working, you have what you need. Learning what you need to do your best work is a big step forward in the life of any writer.” — Dani Shapiro, Still Writing

My studio is a sacred space. I use the definition of sacred as regarded with great respect and reverence, because I do respect it — I do revere it. I treat it like a living thing that needs care and feeding.

Is there a point to being so precious about a room? When I’ve been desperately ill, the studio was the safest place in the house.

window and small table

It’s where things are made — by which I mean the scribbles on book-planning notecards, the editing for others, the social media distractions and promotions, the dreaming.

It’s where I do morning rituals. My Evernote check-ins and check-outs. The ten minutes of meditation that I do my best to sit in. Drawing a Tarot or Oracle card to begin the day (today’s card: Life Purpose).

It’s where I rest throughout the day in the bed that serves as a guest bed for visitors. The mattress is wrapped in soft vintage linens speckled with cornflower-blue bouquets. Atop it: a memory-foam wedge for sitting up and lying down, a linen comforter, a burgundy velvet pillow. Every few hours, I lie down. I nap. Daphne visits me and vigorously licks my face.

It’s where I do client calls and calls with my coach.

It’s where C installed a window box (ranunculus, tiny tomatoes, yellow-and-white-striped blooms) and a hummingbird feeder that attracts a red-headed fella whose clicks and wings I’ve grown to recognize.

pink filofax

drawer set and flowers

When we bought this flat, I knew that this room, adjacent to the master bedroom, would be a guest room; I didn’t know how important it would become. I am grateful for it as a receptacle for my magpie self and a home for my work. At the end of my work day, I smudge the room, say a prayer, and close the door tight till morning — the next morning, of course, when I enter again.