Setting the mood for wordplay
Want to be a more effective writer? Create your perfect space.
The keyword here is your. But to help draw a picture in your mind of what I’m talking about, I’ll describe my creative sanctuary.
Behind me, my two dogs have finally tired and are now lying calmly on the cream-colored shag rug we all love to roll around on. My laptop rests atop a mid-centuryesque writing table the color of dark chocolate, and my bottom on a posh grey chair with a brass-finished frame. A soft, golden light glows from an Edison bulb fixed to two tattered books, a one-of-a-kind lamp that I purchased in a New Orleans market. The upper left corner of the desk is home to my third companion — a small, stylishly potted Dracaena that’s flourishing despite my sporadic care of it.
The window is open because I abhor stale air. After three months, I think we’ve finally managed to tune out the sounds of the surprisingly busy intersection of two undivided neighborhood streets. Dogs barking, bass lines thundering from passing cars, and people seeking reprieve from their claustrophobia-inducing apartments. Like white noise, this commotion heard at all hours helps mask the inevitable silence that interrupts my train of thought.
When I take pause for those next words to come to me, I stare ahead or above, letting my eyes fall on one of the five framed art prints of my compact gallery wall. A one-line drawing depicts a man and woman kissing. A femme fatale, with pale skin contrasted by the dark green leaves that surround her, displays an unapologetic confidence I long for. A single brush stroke forms a feminine profile. The image of a woman idling in a sea of stars tells me that anything is possible. And the uppermost print whispers que sera, sera (what will be, will be). Yes, maybe my interpretation of these last two describes contradictory approaches to life. Or maybe they’re a reminder of our world’s ever-present dualities, like joy and misery or productivity and ineffectualness. I think we often find ourselves teetering on the line between them, attempting to strike an acceptable balance.
Anyway, if I had to sum it all up in only three words, I’d choose sensual, feminine, and minimalistic. Together, these three ingredients make up my idyllic space. It doesn’t matter if the rest of my apartment is in total disarray — my office, where I come when I’m ready to get serious about writing, is perfect.
It’s not about eliminating the distractions; it’s about reaching a point of total relaxation.
Maybe that also means slipping out of your professional persona and into something more comfortable. Roleplay, anyone? Tonight, I’m wearing my favorite black, lace-trimmed slip that gives me an instant boost of self-esteem; it accentuates the parts that I love and hides the parts I don’t. The thin straps are almost as delicate as this moment: If I’m lucky, beautiful words will be drawn from it, like ripe fruit plucked from a blossoming tree.
My long hair is loose, free to express its own mood. Music is drifting in from the living room. And each time I press the glass of wine to my lips, all thoughts — other than those pertaining to the task at hand — retreat deeper into the recesses of my mind. I’m at peace.
Imagine… What if the mood you’ve set for yourself could be experienced by the reader through your words? I think it’s possible. So just in case, make it a good one.
I picked up a new acronym recently — TL;DR. If this describes your impression, here are the takeaways:
- Have a space that allows you to physically and mentally disconnect from the rest of your life.
- It’s okay to keep your loved ones close, but kindly ask that they respect the lay of the land.
- Display art or mementos that will prompt your imagination when you’re at a loss for words.
- Splurge on decorative or functional pieces that will make you happy. No cause to feel guilty — consider them investments.
- Possible mood enhancers include music, choice of drink, and lingerie.
