My Dream is....
not for a romantic dinner for two (although that would be nice)
or a roomful of new Gucci bags and Prada clothes (or shoes? what does Prada make? I'm pathetic.)
or a beautiful kitchen (wait, I take it back, that is part of my dream)....
or a shiny new Porsche
It sounds crazy and sort of frivolous or just like I have no inspiration, but my dream is for a BEAUTIFUL DESK to work at.
Yes, I would love something that smells of the Nottingham forest
and looks shiny like the wicked stepmother's mirror
And is as hard and dependable as the oak tree I climbed in to read when I was a kid.
To be able to sit at a wide surface and spread my papers and writing out luxuriously, to feel the smooth finish beneath the brush of my fingers as I reach for a revised version of my work, or a student paper, or the copy of The Garden of Evening Mists which I just happen to be reading...
To have a place that is mine to dream, write, and wonder why and how and how long....
This is the great envy I have at present! I am tired of writing from my bed with its unreliable sinking mattress and its mouse-like squeaky headboard! I want a desk like real writers and dreamers and adults have.
The good news is....
I'm going shopping this weekend!
