I am taking a poetic images course this quarter. So far, the course has focused on space as a poetic image. We have been contemplating the images of houses, nests, shells, and drawers/chests. (See The Poetics of Space by Gaston Bachelard). But the chapter and focus that really has held my attention is the concept of a corner. He writes "...every corner in a house, every angle in a room, every inch of secluded space in which we like to hide, or withdraw into ourselves, is a symbol of solitude for the imagination". Exactly! I needed my space to be a symbol of solitude for my imagination. My writing space needed to be a corner.
I selected our office. It needed the most help and had the most potential. I moved the chair and ottoman to a different corner. I got rid of the kind of stuff I really don't need and rearranged the computer desk to be away from my writing space. My own little corner. Away from the distractions of technology and near the window where I could stare outside and day dream. I found a small writing table and put it my corner. Then I placed on top of it a lamp, my journals and a cup of pens. I took the chair from my son's room and voila, I had my writing corner. My space to write.
What I found though is that it took about two weeks for the piles of papers, mail, and additional items to clutter the small desktop. My corner became unusable. How did this happen? Was it effort that I was lacking? Perhaps organization? No, that was not it. I continued to write in my journal and write for class. What is lacking is time. There is always something else to do, someone else that needs me, or some event that needs to be handled. Thus, my corner sits piled high with things that keep me away. It seems that it isn't only the physical corner I needed to establish. It is my own corner of time that will require the real commitment.