So we were in the Marshall Fire. Some of you probably know about that and others don’t. It’s been so figurative in our lives for the past year and a half that it has influenced everything we say and do. Anyway we spend a LOT of time trying to get the house back in shape to live in and have made a lot of changes to the house while doing so. In other words, right when the world caught its breath from COVID, our house almost burned down and was so infused with smoke it was not livable for several months. (An urban wildfire is not the same as a woodland wildfire. Testing found char containing batteries, tires, steel, and all manner else of yummy cancerous compounds,)
You can imagine the effects on my writing. I’m not an escapist writer, nor am I a “ducks in a row” writer. I land somewhere in between but the trauma of fleeing the fire and continued victimization by our insurance company on top of just so much fucking stuff to do stopped any progress on my book in its tracks. This year, though I’ve made a concentrated effort and of course it’s slow because even the most compelling muse cannot whip my writing speed past Molasses. I might hit Horny Turtle in short bursts. (See what I did there? Hahaha)
I thought a feng shui class would be helpful with the changes and the writing. Really I figured out that I do feng shui naturally. I’m not really any kind of knowledgeable person about it though so I might be wrong. But generally I started figuring out that the colors I have in my house and, particularly my office, really work for me, a GOAT OF FIRE. My office is basically all wood elements with some water and a tinge of fire (plus a lot of sun). Basically pretty perfect for what I need as a creative space. I know it feels super nice to me but also that something was missing. I’m not creating the way I want. I’m not feeling free enough. And then when she started talking about people and their things holding them back I realized that the space right above my desk, that I look at all the time, arguably the most important part of my office decor, is filled with pictures of my (darling!) hubcap and kids and animals, even a long dead animal.
It really doesn’t make a lot of sense to have some of my most potent distractions all right in my most creative visual spot. After all I do blame much of my not-writing on them.
So into the drawer they all went and now it’s an empty space which is pretty cool because empty spaces are supposed to be really good for creative people. It’s also boring but boring is good too. You have to let the ideas in, and have space for them to live there, because of this other cool concept. The subconscious can’t tell anything No, go away so if you have a lot of clutter or other junk, it’s impossible to set that clutter aside. I equate clutter with a task needing completing.
Do you ever feel like your brain is all full of all the stuff you don’t want it full of?
Because I do.
All.
The.
Time.
Which is where the boring comes in. Get bored enough, it’s amazing the ways you’ll entertain yourself.
And I started thinking, I curate my rooms carefully. I always have. I’ve learned to curate my various online feeds really carefully. Instagram is all fabulous decor and fantastic vistas. Facebook is all writers. (A few slipped through but most I don’t follow, sorrynotsorry.)
I’ve realized over time that I need to curate my life just as carefully.
This is tough to do when you’re remodeling a house because of the most batshit wildfire in Colorado History. It’s like the trauma is a little razor that just keeps cutting, cutting, cutting. Like having to replace my shoes and purses. Painting over my kids’ bedroom walls. Deciding a beloved rug had to go.
Like the day I had to fill a dumpster with most of my ashed out books.
And one of the other victims has been my words. They are there, but hiding deep inside from all the razor blades life cuts you with.
So anyway I’m working out a few ways to make my office a safe space, with no life-razors allowed, and also give my creative mind a chance to take over. A few possibilities:
remove more items from my already slimmed down shelves
limit electronics because that really interferes with energies
limit the phone because distraction but also it’s sometimes the bearer of bad news
study the colors and see if I need to infuse more elements
surround myself with my creative things: books, sketchbooks, artist tools, and book notes
find something fun and creative to go over my desk, which can be a mobile display as it’s a big empty board with clips currently
It hasn’t been all bad, this experience. It’s been a chance for the whole family to move past being a family of grups and kids who live together to more grups and… grup-kids, all of us with our own spaces and lives. We’ve watched our town come together and grow and rebuild. We’ve all learned we really like where we live. It’s a transition and now that I’m edging toward the transformed side of things I’m realizing that’s what stories, at their heart, are about. Transformation.