Or The Wall, capitalized. I’m early into my second week after the day job officially ended, and have realized my office space doesn’t really work for me very well. Here it is, put into the context of Game of Thrones.
So, to the north of The Wall, symbolic though it must be since I have paint on the back of my iMac, is my writing space, aka Winterfell. It is often a cold a desolate place since I must work alone. I have the aforementioned iMac, a mini keyboard that is quite a bit smaller in width than an octave on the piano, a wireless mouse, and a 3 TB external hard drive that duplicates my Drop Box account because I don’t trust anything electronic TOO much, especially external hard drives.
There are floor-to-ceiling double bookshelves to the right of my chair, a daylight-mimicking Verilux lamp than hovers over the keyboard, and a dock for my iPhone. There is no room for anything else on my “desk,” which is half of a Walmart wooden card table. In the bookshelves are reference books, heavy on magic and writing advice and New Orleans history and lore.
Travel south out of the writing space, which we’ll call “King’s Landing,” and we go north of The Wall, into the land of the wildlings. Wildlings are just like the people south of the wall except with less discipline or respect for authority. In other words, it’s my art space.
This half of the table is spattered with paint despite the black plastic oven liner covering most of the surface. There are my beloved collections of Golden Fluid Acrylics and Golden High-Flow Acrylics. To the left of my art chair (which is separate from my writing chair, as the King of the North’s tent differs from the Iron Throne in the south) is a window seat piled with art supplies, which also march across the window sill (okay, there might be a doll up there). Behind my art chair, blissfully out of view of the camera lens, are four rolling carts of, yes, art supplies, along with two more floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with mostly, yes, art supplies.
The southern kingdom is losing the space fight. So I think it’s time to grow up, be an adult, and get myself a real desk. ROYAL STREET and RIVER ROAD were written on a Dell laptop perched on a TV tray. All the other books were written on a Macbook Pro on the card table. Now I have the iMac, due to the untimely death of the Macbook at the ripe old age of three. I need to have a chat with Tim Cook about that. He was here in town last week and somehow forgot to give me a call. How did that happen?
So, a desk is in my future. It has to be compact and simple because space is limited. Any good resources other than Ikea?