As we enter the death throes of the most comprehensive stage of remodeling our 100 year-old house, I’m preparing to evacuate what has become my “office” during the project and temporarily squat (in the property sense, not the knee-bending kind!) in the newly remodeled “library alcove” of our living room, which will continue to remain empty of its normal belongings until the official writing cave is finished. Then, we’ll move our furniture and JUNK back into the house and begin the process of paring down and relocating STUFF.
For the next few weeks, the library alcove will house me and my makeshift office. Despite its temporariness and its slapped-together-like-a-Dagwood-sandwich aesthetic, the large bedroom we deemed would be my office has been home for my muses and me for almost two years.
In a sense, I hate to uproot the refuge my ragged office has provided. It has a lovely view of the back yard with perennial gardens, wisteria, and droopy tree limbs in full view. And I can see that view from my desk if I choose to open the shade and drapery; I can even look at it through various layers of fabric filters, so even when Nature isn’t moving at a quick enough pace for me, I can choose to see it differently. I’m going to miss that. On the other hand, the sycamore in front of our house will be in full view from the library alcove. It’s older than the house by at least 2 decades, and it’s magnificent. How I do love that tree and watching its seasonal changes.
Change really is the theme of this entire remodeling project, but change for the better despite the inconveniences of breathing (and sweeping up) plaster dust, listening to power tools all day, and constantly shifting materials and necessities from one room to another.
I’ve thought a lot about what the change might bring. Some tension about whether my muses will like it there has crept in, but overall, they’re a fairly flexible lot, so I’m sure they’ll adjust. Once I’m in my new writing cave, we can always revisit the library alcove if my muses or I want to commune with the sycamore. Have laptop. Can Relocate.
The room I’ve been working in will undergo a transformation in more ways than one. While there’s value and satisfaction in restoring a space that deserves restoration, there’s even greater value in the change in energy. While I’m enjoying watching the sycamore and the neighbor’s gorgeous maple, my office space will metamorphose from our former tenants’ destruction into a warm, comfortable, and creative space . . . sans the negative vibes of people who need a lot of counseling and an intensive course in personal accountability.
The space feels what’s coming, and the energy in the room is already improving.
