Office Space, Birdee Edition, aka Where the Magic Happens (poetry-wise)

I am a sucker for seeing people's writing spaces or even just their desks. As loyal readers know, my husband and I are both writers and English professors and we BOTH needed our own space to write. We end up goofing around and talking too much and laughing if we try to work in the same room--we just enjoy each other too much (gag me, I know) and can never settle down to actually, you know, write. I end up doing, say, my impersonation of the guy who helped me at the DMV after he meticulously took SEVEN FRIGGING MINUTES I KNOW B/C I TIMED IT to open a stick of gum before he called my number. And then, well, we are laughing too hard to think about writing.

Since moving to our beloved 2800 sq ft abode (la ranchera! as it is affectionately called, exclamation included), I have been addicted to YOUNG HOUSE LOVE. In fact, I am hesitant to even tell you about this blog, I want all their tips just for me. Hee hee, just kidding. Mostly. This young couple knows how to decorate a room on a budget AND they make it look so easy. Of course, they are utterly adorable, but that is beside the point. One of the tips that they hammer home time and time again is the magic of paint to cheer up a room and give it that extra punch and pizazz. I wanted a color combo that was calming but still injected LIFE AND ENERGY into it. As we are also parents to a 2 1/2 yr old (and another one on the way!), we need all the energy we can gather when we sit down to write and/or grade papers. So I chose a calm and refreshing robin eggshell blue for the base, and cherry red and black and white accent colors. I thought I was so 'over' the wall decal trend, but I couldn't resist the birdee on a tree branch I found on Etsy, and how it filled an entire wall. Basically, I love that I am never in a tired or cranky mood when I enter this room, now, as opposed to the dull and dreary woodland-theme the previous owners had left us with.

So here then, is a behind-the-scenes look at where I write:
BEFORE: a bizzaro woodland-themed room from the previous owners



BEFORE 2: standing inside the room, looking towards the door (pls excuse my then 1 1/2 yr old son during the walk-through!)


AFTER: a writing/craft workspace, same view as pic#1, looking into the room



workstation--for all you IKEA haters, the EXPEDIT is super sturdy and functional--highly recommend!



my beloved wall of poetry and creative non-fiction books in a BILLY bookcase (again, IKEA, but they are the strongest WHITE bookcases I have ever seen, and I have been researching and searching for 2 yrs). Dustin installed cute frosted glass doors in the center for all the journals and anthologies I have ever appeared in. To you know, avoid the dusties. Actually, now that I look at it, the bottom shelf are all art books and oversized magazines, so strike that.. I most certainly did not appear, for example, in Roget's Thesarus or Husband Coached Childbirth. Just FYI. ;)



another view of the BILLY bookcases


my drafting table and my closet o' shame: stuff that needs to still be filed and sorted hidden behind the sexy cerise-colored curtain--it does wonders for hiding extra files and clutter. and, if I am being completely honest, a bad stationery habit that went awry but is now (mostly) under control. A writer ends up with so much paper (work) that I just cannot get rid of (but I'm working on it!)



close up of my drafting/writing ACTUAL LETTERS TO PEOPLE table:



How I get organized for tax-season: one white box is for receipts, one is simply for bills. Totally simple but without it, I am a hot mess of crumpled receipts all over the house:



light switch decal:


The peacock-guardian of my writing. what you see when you first open the door to my office (found on ebay for $2--it was a horrid faux-brass, so I spray painted it black):



Giant matchbox from none other than Rebecca L (who sends the coolest care packages in the universe), which now houses tiny paperclips on my workstation desk:













WALL PAINT: Behr's "Fresh Water" (sorry the blue looks so different in some pics--proof of paint color changes just even during different times of the day, so when I decided on colors, I hung up swatches on the wall and made sure to note what they looked like at diff. points of the day)
LIGHT SWITCH DECAL: "deep red" by byrdiekids.etsy.com
GIANT BIRD BRANCH DECAL: ShaNickers
FRENCH FRY BIRD PRINT: dazeychic.etsy.com (and they are having a delish sale buy 1 get one free!!)

(the following are from IKEA, collected up over the yrs, not bought all at once! ;))--
BOOKCASES: Billy
LIGHTING: Kristavler (with blue thrift store gems attached), Grono desk lamp
COMPUTER WORKSTATION: Expedit with Kassett boxes
DRAFTING TABLE: Vika glasholm table top and legs

......
and I had to include this little gem, probably the most favorite thing in the room, and I have many, but I would run back into a burning house to get this pic that I have clipped in a photo holder from crate and barrel--this little polaroid of my future husband (then 5 yrs-old) on his first day of kindergarten:



I mean, come ON! I die of the cuteness, every single time I sit down at my computer to write:


Also? I would SO still carry that bag to school today.

Villanelle is back in town and all is right in the world.

Valentine

I don't know who peeked into our house to get such a clear video of how Dustin and I spent our morning together. I wasn't even going to mention that I dyed my hair blond and got a sparkly new red dress, but since it's already out in cyberspace, I figured I'd share it with you all...

Every Small Dog Needs a Neckerchief

Hug a little doggie this week. Or a big doggie. Or a cat. Just give hugs out, freely. Don't wait for Valentine's Day. Buy yourself a jaunty scarf or ascot, if that is how you roll.

***

neckerchief modeled by Villanelle, dog poet laureate of the Universe.

35

 

Today is my beloved D's birthday and we are all a bit under the weather so we opted to skip church today and hole up near a fire and get the best wings in town for a day of football, cake, and naps. My husband is the hardest worker I know. His own writing often brings me to tears, it is just that crackling good, but he doesn't always get the time to work on it. I am hoping to change that in the next year. He is the most devoted and present father to our little one. D deserves many, many naps. I literally would not be able to do the things I do (readings, travel, uninterrupted stretches of time to write) without him--not just helping with The Baby, but his emotional support and unabashed cheering me along the way. He is never jealous, not a shred of it, b/c he knows that every prize and hornblow I get is also his. I cannot stress how important this is to our marriage, to our home. Not once does he ever make me feel guilty about writing, about just taking time away for myself, and when I come back to them, I am always always greeted with the brightest of smiles and open arms. He is the person who drove me around downtown D.C. during Friday rush hour with a sick mini-dachshund in his lap so she could vomit out the window. Seriously, Villanelle was so sick she was literally puking out the window and even that and the stress of driving in crazed traffic never rattled him. Just so I would not mess up my outfit for a reading that night. And did he ever complain? Nope.

And lest you think he is simply a pushover, believe u me when I say I know my limits and he will not tolerate my flightiness when I forget directions when we are already an hour on the road, or lose track of time getting ready for a party, or stay too long in Sephora or JoAnn Fabrics. But mostly he is there, steady, the only person on the maternity ward who didn't sleep in almost 3 days while he waited for the newest addition to our nest. He watches over us, over me, and I hope to spend this next yr making sure HIS gifts and talents are recognized and put to the best use. I never have to wear glitter or sparkles when I am with him and he actually prefers it when I don't. Here is the first poem I ever wrote for him, the one that appears in the Pushcart anthology this year. Today I celebrate the life of my husband, who will be getting lots and lots of naps today.





LOVE IN THE ORANGERY


When you see a seventy-pound octopus squeeze
through a hole the size of a half-dollar coin, you

finally understand that everything you learn about
the sea will only make people you love say You lie.

There are land truths that scare me: a purple orchid
that only blooms underground. A German poet

buried in the heart of an oak tree. The lighthouse man
who used to walk around the streets at night

with a lighted candle stuck into his skull. But winters
in Florida are bright—all the street corners have sad fruit

tucked into the curb, fallen from orangery truckers
who take corners too fast. The air is sick with citrus,

but you love the small spots of orange in walls
of leafy green as we drive. Your love is a concrete canoe

that floats in the lake like a lead balloon, improbable
as a steel wool cloud, a metal feather. This is the truth:

I once believed nothing on earth could make me say Magic.
You believe in the orange blossom tucked behind my ear.