I love my space. No, not MySpace, though I like that too. I’m talking about my converted bedroom office with the soothing peach-color walls decorated with my favorite photos, paintings, and posters, and behind me, my bookshelves.
My space was a long time in coming. Growing up I shared a room with my older sister, but that wasn’t the half of it, so to speak, because in our home my Mom owned every room. She chose the furniture and where it would go, the bedspreads, the rug. She had strict rules on wall hangings, and everything had to be stowed away when I left for school or I was liable to find my Rolling Stones’ Album in the Abbey Road cover and without the paper sleeve that probably ended up in the trash.
When I married, 30 years ago, we had a small apartment and then a small house. In those days men got dens and women got sewing rooms, and since I didn’t sew, I got nothing. The rest was common area, except for my bathroom, and when we added a kid, I lost that too.
We moved into our current home mainly because my husband needed a large office for his home-based business, but this time I insisted on having my own space too. Originally, it was just a place to keep my books and read, away from the blare of the TV. That was when one computer serviced our entire family. Eventually I added a desk, a laptop, a printer, reference books for my writing, a file cabinet.
It isn’t messy, but it isn’t neat either. At least not to my Mom’s standards.
It’s my space, and I can do exactly what I want with it.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
3 comments:
I grew up with four brothers, so I always had my own room, but funny how I sometimes felt really lonely and was envious of my brothers getting to room together, esp if I had a nightmare (of which I had many many of them!) or we'd watched a scary movie or something.
I tend to spread my writing space and reading space all over...esp now that I have a laptop that I've made wireless!
Ah, room to spread out and just be. For the first time ever (I'm a twin, so always shared space and rooms, and in my old house of 18+ years, there wasn't room enough for a space of my own) I have my own office. It is a jumble tumble place full of momentos, "crap stacks" and all my best loved stuff. And I love it that way.
This made me think of Virginia Woolf's "A Room of One's Own."
She said," a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction." We do need to carve out our own spaces and claim them as ours, and it's very hard to do that. Terrific to hear about yours!
Post a Comment