My office is pretty done now. I love having one. That story/essay V. Woolf wrote about needing personal space? yea, she wasn't kidding.
In lieu of painting (landlords don't allow, time consumption, conspicuous lack of money) I have strung up my red lanterns. Two strings of fist sized ones, two the size of a sumo wrestler's thigh. They traipse diagonally from one corner to the other in the most opium-soaked charming way. The effect is entirely calming.
One super cheap Walmart book case holds all the books I allowed myself to pack, and all my music, poetry, stationary and "Best Costume" statuette.
I've an art corner for oversized works. I broke out my chalk pastels and am working on a composition for them.
Having no friends and only a part-time job to worry about has opened up so much time that I can do things like that. Just sit down and draw for three solid hours. Weird.
All that is missing is a fainting couch. I want one so badly. Reading poetry in red light just isn't the same in this desk chair. Don't get me wrong, Ikea had the perfect desk chair for me. Just comfy enough to remain in, not so comfy that work will be detrimented by the comfiness. It also conveniently matches my Ikea desk and Ikea rugs. Who knew.
But if anyone has a fainting couch laying about, clogging up fire escapes, do not hesitate to send it my way!
2 comments:
I love that your best costume award is displayed prominently. Dillon will be pleased.
It's desperately lonely without you. I keep wanting to go get complicated martinis with you, and you are not here. Poop.
...IKEA...
Seriously though about the fainting couch...grab the paper (especially on Saturdays) and look for estate sales/auctions in the classifieds. That would probably be your best bet and would probably lead to a really awesome old one that has mad amounts of class.
G-dspeed in your search.
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