The Desk

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I’ve been looking for a sacred writing space, a writing desk, for longer than you can imagine. When I saw this one, it was love at first sight.  I knew it was mine.  This desk has a feel to it like no other, a feel like many a magazine article, poem, essay, story have been written on its surface.  I can’t really explain it except to tell you that the moment I laid eyes on it, the moment I ran my hands over it, I knew I wanted to be a part of that legacy, needed to be a part of that legacy.  I told the owner of my favorite antique shop in town to put a SOLD sign on it.  I slept on it for a few days and then I walked back into that shop and slapped some cash down on the counter, loaded this desk up into the bed of the Dodge and drove it on home.

This desk is huge, ENORMOUS, and it is very tall. There is room for two at its writing surface.

Heavy old oak. Brass knobs. A slanted writing surface which is SO comfortable to write on. I like it so well that it is easy to pen eight pages every morning right now.

I hope this piece helps me cultivate my writers heart and mind.
My writing time in the mornings has become such a sacred thing for me now that I have a holy little space to do it in.

I hope I write my first book on this glorious wooden surface.
I hope I write a thousand poems here.
I’m thankful I was able to make it mine.

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