I have a beautiful room in my
home where I write and sew everyday. The walls are a lovely warm and fuzzy peach
color and I revel in the joys of having my very own private domain to work in. My
talented husband installed cherry cabinets, a murphy bed and a very large table
that folds down. I have bookshelves filled to the max with everything one might
need to write or sew and a super computer. A large barn door covers a sometimes
organized- although often not – cupboard, shamefully filled with more fabric
than I could ever hope to use in a lifetime. Large windows let in tons of sunlight
and ocean breezes and I often find
inspiration just staring off into rolling hills of green. It seems like the
perfect place to write and it usually is.
But yesterday, I ran into a
glitch when I decided that the story I was working on needed a dark twist. I
wanted to paint my character in shades of loneliness, sadness, perhaps even
despair. My heroine was having mystical dilemmas that caused her heartache and
pain and my happy, sunny domain just
didn’t support the creation of those kinds of feelings. I tried to refashion my
environment to support my writing needs. I outlined in my head where I wanted my
storyline to go, I put on soft, melancholy music, closed the shades and dug
down deep into my soul and waited for dramatic
feelings to flow. But none came, I was totally stymied.
That night, I switched my writing
spot to my moonlit back yard hoping for inspiration to hit. It was dark and cold
and maybe even a little lonely. But the only thing that happened was that I got
the sniffles from the fog that rolled in, enveloping me in damp blankets of
white. This morning, determined to create
the blues, I returned to my office, chastising myself for not just jumping in earlier. After
all, I know what it feels like to be sad, to feel lost, wanting to tuck myself
away and I was confused as to why I was having so much trouble tapping into
those emotions. It was then that I realized that I had the perfect place to nurture
those feelings – my closet. It’s the one place where I fled to when my mom died
and I needed to remember, to feel and ultimately to cry. And cry I did in my
silent hiding place.
Located on our second floor, is a
very large walk-in closet and although it has a couple of small windows,
closing the door and dropping the shades, effectively shuts out the world
at large. This dark hole offered the perfect
hiding place in which to create my whirlwind of dark emotion.
Grabbing my laptop, I headed
upstairs, determined to write. Closing the door, I sat down on the carpeted
floor, flipped open my laptop and began.
I envisioned my main character, the turmoil she was feeling, the confusion and
angst that plagued her and the sorrow that consumed her and I wrote. I never heard the phone ringing
or the shouts from my husband. I just wrote. And within a couple of hours, I
had created the world I had been searching for.
As I headed back downstairs, I
met my husband who asked, “Where were you? I couldn’t find you. Didn’t you hear
me calling you? Your sister phoned. I told her that you must have gone for a walk.”
I smiled. I’m glad that he hadn’t found me sitting on the floor in my dark closet, he might not have understood. I’m afraid he would have freaked him out. But for that one moment, my closet offered me the ideal place to feel, to imagine and to write. I hope that you find your own perfect writing place.
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I have a beautiful room in my home where I write and sew everyday. The walls are a lovely warm and fuzzy peach color and I revel in the joys of having my very own private domain to work in. My talented husband installed cherry cabinets, a murphy bed and a very large table that […]
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I have a beautiful room in my home where I write and sew everyday. The walls are a lovely warm and fuzzy peach color and I revel in the joys of having my very own private domain to work in. My talented husband installed cherry cabinets, a murphy bed and a very large table that […]
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“What an interesting guy,” I said. “I love his fedora hat (it was a strange shade of blue), but what the heck is he driving?”
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I have a beautiful room in my home where I write and sew everyday. The walls are a lovely warm and fuzzy peach color and I revel in the joys of having my very own private domain to work in. My talented husband installed cherry cabinets, a murphy bed and a very large table that […]
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I have a beautiful room in my home where I write and sew everyday. The walls are a lovely warm and fuzzy peach color and I revel in the joys of having my very own private domain to work in. My talented husband installed cherry cabinets, a murphy bed and a very large table that […]
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Enjoyed reading your source and method of finding the right mood for the inspiration, Meriam. One thing I have found, in my own little personal experience, is that it is easier to fall into a dark mood when attempting to write about sadness than it is to elevate myself to a joyful state when I am naturally in a pensive mood. I wonder if happiness/joy/light or whatever we wish to call it is more difficult to tap on than the other way round. Simply going outside to listen to birds or feel the ocean breeze on a warm, sunny day doesn’t quite do the trick!
Glad you found an effective way to rekindle the emotion you needed.
Oddly, I find the opposite to be true. The smallest thing can cheer me up when I’m sad. If I’m not I must work hard to write darker emotions.
It’s not odd. We all have different ways of processing emotions. 🙂