My Half Imaginary-Half Real Home Office

This space is for me. There is no phone. There are no interruptions.

Bookshelves cover one wall from floor to ceiling; my desk cuts out one spot along the stacks. Kitschy souvenirs make a place for themselves on the shelves as a testament to my world travel and as inspiration to get my mind on the Far Off. Gnostic the Gnome settles in, awaiting his heroic roles. The wooden Thai frog awaits a stroke down his craggy back to make him sing. Worldwide and Missouri authors piled next to, around, and on my workspace. My own books sidle in among the greats.

The three other walls are bare. They are all painted in a bright, warm color…some type of cream on two walls and one wall that changes colors at my whim. I think today it will be green bean. The changing color wall also has a bay window with a window seat in which I can look out to a rolling landscape with a lake directly in front of me. It frees my mind to follow the scene far, far away, across the water and over distant mountaintops. I can warm myself in the sun and open the windows to the “Shhhhhhh” of tree limbs in the wind and the mockingbird’s evening song.

My desk is dark wood with a big black leather comfy chair that rolls around the room when I’m thinking. The desk is full of colorful pens and pencils and pads of paper. Against one cream wall is a comfy couch that I rest on. I kick off my slippers and wrap my robe tightly around me and kick up my feet, putting my arms behind my head. That's right! I wear my robe and slippers at any time of day!

The room is filled with live plants—no fakes. They nearly take over every breathable inch and make it feel like I’m crouching in the rain forest. These plants are brilliant and beaming, exotic and free. They overflow their containers and I water them with a watering can that is bright red paint covered steel with a long flowing spout that licks at the leaves.

My computer is a Mac laptop that has high speed Internet so that I can write and research with ease and the confidence that it will not crash. I Gmail, cuz it rocks.

The file cabinet sits along the final cream wall—by the door. The files contain drafts of published work. I have my “in” and “out” box sitting on top with projects constantly moving to fruition. I enjoy my work and it makes me feel useful and rejuvenated. My family independently operates without me while I’m in that room, then when I do emerge, they love me.