a room of one's own.


First I want to say, thank you so much for all your fun and lovely moving wishes! We're reaching the home stretch, and tonight we'll be sleeping in our new digs!

{more milk here}

But sometimes I just don't know when to quit. Times when my whole being is rung out yet I'm still so high strung I can't actually stop. I've had pretty gnarly insomnia lately, something I haven't even had a wink of since, say, 2006. Last night, for example, a quarter after 3 in the morning and I'm glugging hot milk and honey. (No, this isn't a normal drink for me. This is my first milk&honey experience.) 

                            {honey by kristyn shobert
Serkan and I scurried around together all day: packing, moving, errand running and eventual painting with the help of one of Serkan's friends. I confess, all in all I was not a happy camper nor honey company. But in the end I was able to say yes to going out to eat instead of cooking with what odds and ends we could muster in the nearly emptied house. Not only was our meal delicious, but we shared some great conversation as well. 

It was a kind of family and funerals talk. And suddenly I was talking about Norman, this stuffed moose that must be tucked away in one of the boxes stacked in my aunt's garage. How I'd written a letter to my grandpa after Grandma passed away. It's gist was this:  
Dear Grandpa, Dad gave me this (Northern Exposure) moose the Christmas after Mom died. Now I'm passing it on to you, so he can keep you company too. 
I ended up with the moose again once Grandpa, too, passed away. I've been thinking about that moose a lot lately. 

{girl&bear by dim baidachnyi}

So, naturally, Norman the moose surfaced during the conversation about my family. You see, my husband has yet to meet the fam. We were married in Turkey (where he's from) about a year ago, we live in Chile, and the immigration process to get into the States is a pain in the ass arduous.

But right now I'm not thinking of Norman so much as I'm thinking about letters. For some reason, thinking about the letter that I wrote to my grandpa jostles me open a little. Looking back at it, I cringe. Something inside me (the editor? some icky authoritarian voice?) winces at the naivete. It's not just this letter, though. It's poems, it's stories. It's many. other. letters--several as yet undelivered. Raw, impale-your-vital-organ type post-its. Asking for mercy, wishing for grace, expressing pure love and, at their heart, asking to be loved. 

 {letters found here}

In my mind's eye looking back, there's something so (violently) innocent about these pieces of writing that remembering them makes me flinch. Of course, I'm likely the only one looking back with such a look on my face. But let's not confuse this look with something of regret. I don't regret anything I've written and delivered. Well, not deep down at least. Mostly the cringe is followed by a shudder of awe. That I had the courage to share that starkly honest & pulsing bit of me.

...

Recently I was on a roll creating postcards. The roll halted for several reasons. But now I'm looking forward to letter writing and postcard making at the sunny table in our new abode. For a while I had a writing desk set up in our soon to be old house with a collage of family photos beneath a piece of glass. Once winter set in, the room dimmed, and the desk was overrun by dust and discard piles. So I'm really looking forward to rediscovering a comfortable, bright workspace. 

              {of course, outside is nice too.}
What is your creative/workscape look like? Is it a special place? Have you ever created something that's given you goosebumps at some later stage? What is another word for that feeling, since it's not regret? So many questions, but I'm curious.
{photos 5&6: unknown, please let me know if they're yours.}

9 comments:

this free bird said...

Heather,

Love this.

First, before I forget when I get on my tirade...you are Cuppie's next host. Up for it? If so, I sent you an email - please respond w/your address and I'll get her on her way tout de suite!!

Now - to your post.

I don't have a very inspiring work space and am surprised by what actually flows out of me sometimes...I guess it really does flow from the heart. Much like the note and the moose you gave to your grandfather. Oddly enough I felt an inner recoil when I read that - because it was so personal and I felt like I was intruding on a private conversation.

Interesting, huh?

I do write things that, when I go back, cause an emotional response. It's not regret, but maybe a form of it like fear that I put a raw emotion out there unabashedly and when I read it at present it scares me a little. Maybe because it is so real and honest and true? That's the closest I can come to describing it.

Like I moved from my gut to express myself to someone else, rather than overthinking it and then holding a part of it back.

Anyway, thus ends the world's longest comment. Your post really made me think. Thanks so much for sharing.

xoxo,
Carrie
ps-ebelskiver giveaway post is up as well...you might want this for your new (temporary) digs! :)

Anonymous said...

Heather, Congrats on winning Cuppie ~ I had him before Carrie and we both had a ball with it! I have written poems about painful things I have been through and I think the word for me is that I feel so exposed ~ the emotions are so raw and private, I guess, so it would be hard let others read these it would make me feel so vulnerable. Thanks for sharing! xo

k said...

This was really interesting to read. I think that the letter that you sent to your grandpa was really sweet - I bet he appreciated it more than you will ever know. I think like that too - like about what I've said to people - and I feel almost embarassed - yeah - and maybe naive...and maybe scared that i'm naive now and wondering how the future will be.

k said...

but then again - I've never ever criticized anything that anyone has ever said to me if they were being vulnerable...so we are probably our own harshest critics :0

Anna Walker said...

Hmmmm I believe that where a lot of my ideas and such come from is when I am in the shower, or talking a walk outsides someplace.

I will be working on creating an inspiring work space soon and yes, your blog post was extremely personal, but that made it all the much better! It was from the heart and genuine.

Abby said...

I get a lot of inspiration from music I listen to, or just walking in nature. It leaves the floodgates open for inspiration and thoughts to float in, and then usually I can flesh out a blog post or piece from those and a little research.

I know that feeling... sometimes reading my old blog posts from long ago makes me cringe in the same way. That I was so honest then...

Claire Kiefer said...

Did you get my card before you moved??

and flowers pick themselves said...

i love this post! so honest + interesting.

as for my workspace...i have a writing desk in a corner surrounded by windows. there are bulletin boards + candles + art supples + writing books all within arm's reach. it's my little haven.

sometimes i tend to be my most creative while away from my desk, though. when i'm doing mundane things, like taking out the trash, cleaning the litter boxes, buying stamps, or just driving around, i often get my best ideas, oddly enough. which is why i always have a post it note and pen handy.

:)

xo Alison

Anonymous said...

Heather~
As you know I've been slowly working on my creative space for the last two year. My home office is my favorite room in the house and I wish it were big enough for a oversized chair and ottoman. First I moved everything out, painted it sky blue added a graphic to one wall that says "dream" then I put together a workstation that faces a window...not sure if I like the desk flush against the wall (I'm an "angles" person) it but I do like the view which is of little knick knacks, Letters and artwork that I've received from friends and family. This past weekend I pulled in a bookshelf which is already full! I'm going to have to find a larger one on Craigs List for sure. My other creative space" in in bed curled up with a quilt and movie playing in the background. I don't really watch the movie I just mind map in my notebooks and make tons of lists.

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