Saturday, January 01, 2005

The view from my chair

It may not be a decorator's dream, but it's the cozy little world where I do most of my writing. From the tiny cross (made of Gopher wood from the Holy Land) on the left-hand corner of my writing table to the handblown glass candy dish on the right, from the Thomas Kinkade lithographs (in the dark frames) to the spindly chair that survived a severe house fire and was refinished by my grandmother some forty years ago, nearly everything in view (except the computer) is an heirloom or a gift from someone I care about. With the exception of the damask-slipcovered wingback chair (my grandmother's) and the chair already mentioned, the rest of the furniture in my office, including the antique mirror, my Queen Anne writing table, and the little oak rocking chair we bought before the birth of our first child, was refinished by my husband, so that stuff is special, too. And the lilies and white roses by the window were a New Year's gift from my favorite cousin.

Surrounding myself with these mementos helps to invoke the warm feelings I channel into the deeply emotional stories I write. And every time I look up to daydream for a few moments, I remember special friends and relatives and am reminded once more how very blessed I have been.


Anonymous said...

Hi Brenda! Love your blog, isn't it addictive to write in here? I love mine. I would have come to check your blog out sooner (read your post on SH) but I was out of town. I was visiting Pammer in Kansas City.

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Brenda Coulter said...

Gee, I really am new at this. That last post, by "Anonymous", didn't contain any profanity or anything. I deleted it because my too-quick trigger finger sent the post anonymously.

Ahem. Where was I? Oh, yes.

Thanks, Heather. Yes, I now have a new addiction to add to my long list: blogging.

Heaven help me.

Anonymous said...

nice room...

Where is the picture of your favorite sister?

Brenda Coulter said...

Give me a break, Skeezicks. You can see just one corner of the room. How do you know the wall behind me isn't filled with photographs of you?

Anonymous said... had to use the Skeezicks thing...only because I like you so much will I refrain from extracting revenge.