When it’s time to write, I like to be alone. Crowded locations, even trendy coffee shops, are a definite no. I used to bury myself in the basement of my university’s library. Something about being surrounded by books helped me find my words.
These days, writing usually happens in my bedroom. This summer, I got rid of the tiny desk that served me throughout childhood and upgraded to something I can actually USE. I’m sitting here now, actually. See the white chair in the photo below? Picture me there, typing away on my laptop.
My bedroom is my happy place. It’s the only place I can truly be alone. I can hear noises from other parts of the house, but they can’t reach me here. Not in my happy place.
I’m the type of person who likes to be cozy. Part of this means lots of bookshelves, warm sweaters, and patterned socks. Part of this also means surrounding myself with objects laden with memories. Almost everything in the photo of my desk has meaning. The bulletin board is covered with postcards, photos, and notes, each bearing its own story. If you were here, I could tell you each one. The wire hanging spelling my name was a gift from a co-worker during my camp counseling days. Even the tiny objects bring back memories–rubber ducks given to me by a favorite roommate, a carved elephant a friend brought back from Africa, a plaque with a Bible verse given to me when I graduated high school.
P.S. Part of today’s assignment included generating polls/contact forms to generate ideas for future posts. I opted for the contact form. If you have a topic or area you’d like to see me write about, you can find the new “Contact Me” page under my “About” heading. Or you can email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. OR you can do things the simple way and leave a comment. Cheers!