A lot of us spend a lot of time at our desks. At work. And we all have different decorating styles when it comes to cubeland.  One colleague has lovely pictures of her family. Another thrives in a simplistic, uncluttered environment. Yet a third has added fake plants and a bright green and white striped carpet (we call her cube “Lupe’s Lanai”, even though her name is not Lupe – but it could have been).

My space is definitely busy. Plants, a few random stuffed animals, some dried flowers that MKL has given me, and a wall-sized photo of Cow Wreck Beach. But when I’m not facing my double computer screens, and I turn and put my boots up on my file cabinet to ponder words yet unwritten, this is what I see. My little desk altar.

Desk altar
Denver, Colorado.

What’s here? My island-a-day calendar. A cobalt blue fish from MKL. A gull feather. One of my father’s handkerchiefs. A card from MKL. A stone with a dragonfly on it from one of our trips last year. A San Pellegrino bottle used as a vase. A picture (from the island calendar) taken from a place I’ve stood at Wormshead in Wales. And my favorite picture of my darling daughter. And some strange golden foam letters from our recent building remodel, that I can change into different nonsensical words. My little altar might be a little busy, but every item is special to me, and helps my brain clear and find the words I need.

Perhaps I can consider it a space in which to commune with Seshat, the Egyptian goddess of wisdom, knowledge, and writing. Or St. Francis de Sales (aka The Gentleman Saint), Patron Saint of Writers and Journalists. At any rate, it’s a little peaceful, a little inspirational, and a lot of me.

What does you desk altar look like?

Quote of the day: “If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?” — Albert Einstein

Daily gratitudes:
An unexpected hillside of cornflowers
Thunder and lightning
The House of Eliott
Mr. Man’s roly-poly stoner behavior on catnip
My truck