Little Desks and Little Women

Yesterday, after going for a run, tackling some errands for the shore house’s rental turnover, and doing some timed writing, I treated myself by watching Greta Gerwig’s adaption of Little Women. Movies about writers have always drawn me in and I don’t know how I let this one go unwatched for almost four years. I have never read Louisa May Alcott’s original story, nor have I seen any of the film adaptions, but yesterday, the March family opened their homemade curtain to a new world and had me hooked.

Jo March and her sisters, Meg, Beth, and Amy found unbridled passion in their interests: writing, love, music, art, and family. They faced financial struggles, loneliness, impulsiveness, heartbreak, anger, and loss, but always found their way back to goodness with the guidance and warmth of their mother, Marmee, the influence of their father-in wanting to make him proud as he served the Union Army, and in the good-natured characters they met along the way, giving and trading hearts and lessons throughout the story.

I read that the set of the March home in Gerwig’s adaption got the nickname of “the jewel box” as it was plain on the outside and held lots of color within. The film’s set designers curated a home that reflected the characters’ creativity, warmth, love, chaos, and closeness. The different time settings in the story and the opposing tones were communicated with light which made it easy to recognize when a transition was happening to reflect the characters’ current state or former.

Jo’s writing studio in the attic was absolutely wonderful and rich with color and possibility. The minimalist in me rebels against my desire for a cluttered writing space, but I won’t give in. Something about books, art, costumes, candles, and miscellany just jog ideas like an uncluttered space can’t. I think I will create a small cluttered writing space in my home to see if it helps brings more ideas to light.

I have read and heard from other writer friends that making a dedicated writing space can feed the frequency of your writing and that it is essential in getting you to get something down even when your brain is like an art gallery between installations without another artist lined up. Right now, I am sitting on the blue couch in the living room with the sunlight streaming through our triptych view of the ocean. It is certainly a comfortable space, and perhaps will serve as a dedicated writing space, though lately I am floating around trying to find just that.

I have a very little desk, currently tucked away against the wall, that I sometime use if I feel like writing on the floor beneath the window. Sitting on the floor is a quirk that I do when I need to feel more grounded. I often sit on the floor at large gatherings with family or with friends to feel less anxious and more in-control. I guess that’s strange, but I don’t know; it just feels right and I tend to follow my gut. I like writing under the window at my little desk and sitting on top of the empty gray and white braided oval throw rug that I placed there not long after we moved in. The round shape of the rug is calming and it looks very warm and inviting in the sunlight and warm and inviting inspires cozy writing for me.

The warmth of the day is beginning to seep through the drafty window and summer is in full swing outside. I feel pleasantly lazy and truly happy and don’t know where the day will take me, but will keep an open mind. Like for the March girls I met yesterday, I am fulfilled by simple pleasures and know that whatever may happen, there is a happy ending in sight.