A Space of One’s Own, Part Three

Last week I told you about the personal issues I worked through while getting a new desk. Today I’ll show you what the finished study looks like.

Left: My books after I brought them all to the apartment. Right: The books on their shelves.

The first thing I did was get the bookshelves set up. It took me several hours and three car trips, even after weeding out 1/3 of my books, but it was satisfying to get them all back in one room at easy disposal. We also moved my art supply chest in here, as there wasn’t much room for it downstairs.

In addition to Brandon’s mother getting me a new desk, my own parents offered to get us each a new chair or another useful thing for the house. I don’t like shopping for chairs online, so this time around I went to one of the local office stores and tried out different chairs for comfort and ergonomics, eventually settling on this one:

Once the furniture was in place, it was just a matter of putting up a few pictures. And so we end up with this:

As much as I enjoy sharing space with Brandon, I’m excited to have a room where I can focus on my writing. I also like having so many windows, as I’ve always preferred natural light.

Every object has a story. The glass bottle is full of shells my dad collected at Cape Porpoise, Maine. The jar filled with pens originally held Dijon mustard and was a souvenir from the opening celebration for The Mourners at the Dallas Museum of Art, which I was fortunate enough to see. The mug is an original piece from ceramist Aria Finch, who runs the fabulous clay studio at the Roswell Museum.

It’s especially nice having my art center map in the same space where I’m working. At City Lofts, it was in Brandon’s study because that was the only available wall large enough for it, but I never liked working there due to the lack of windows.

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The walls feature art and other objects I’ve collected over the years, including two Venetian carnival masks and an original work from printmaker and paper artist Martie Zelt.

I’ve really enjoyed using this space so far, and have already noticed a change in my productivity. Since I’m on the second floor, away from the kitchen, I’ve cut down on my snacking. When I need a break, I walk up and down the stairs for a couple of minutes, getting a little exercise in the process. With the TV is downstairs in the living room, I’m not tempted to turn it on and tune out. Sure, the internet is always there, but since this space feels different from the other rooms, with its formal furniture, I feel more compelled to do useful work here that suits the surroundings. In other words, this room proclaims itself as a workspace, my workspace, so when I’m in here, that’s what I do. If we ever have guests, we can always move the desk against the wall and bring out an inflatable mattress. First and foremost though, this is my room, and I’m glad that I prioritized my working needs.

On second thought, it’s really the cats’ room. They’re just gracious enough to let me use it.

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