The Trials of Zero Degrees in South Central Indiana and Notes on Workspace

Well the ass finally fell out of the thermometer here in Bloomington. Our nightly lows will be below zero degrees for the next two nights and low and behold after just one night of this stuff, we already have frozen pipes. After looking around weather underground, it seems that the weather on Turtle Island is gone awry. There are hard freeze warnings from Tampa, Fl to New Orleans. Hopefully, their pipes will be safe. I thought leaving Montana behind would leave this type of day behind. Maybe it would just be nice to an insulated crawlspace.

First day of fiction workshop and we had a fairly interesting talk about writing, inspiration, and work place. Now, the typical public stereotypical viewpoint of the writer's world is a dark grimy attic somewhere with a typewriter/word processor and an ash tray. Fact of the matter is that space does matter, and for me as a writer avoiding this type of space is key. The general consensus among the writers I know of, is that workspace matters for nothing more than comfort and inspiration. Attics don't cut it.

I can say that my workspace is as earthy as I can make it, living where we do. I have a clear view of a sugar maple and the old workshop across the street. The wood panelling is nice, even if it is fake, and the high ceilings of my office tend to bring in more light than other place's I've worked. I've added certain personal touches such as pictures from my travels, a Tibetian flag, and other nostalgia pieces that help as triggers to positive places that I can draw my work from. It'll be nice come summer to look out one of the windows and see the garden we're planning. But for now it's the light and presence of self I've crammed into a corner of the room that seem to make that space workable.

Saddly, due to company in recent weeks I've been unable to utilize that space and have found my workflow basically plugged. I've been reading sure, but have been lost in any attempt to produce new works. My fiction isn't really up for review for a couple of weeks so I have time to re-situate myself in the space. Right now though, without my workspace, I feel out of sync. So much of life depends on timing. Maybe even this cold snap has something to do with that.