A Room of One's Own

Over the weekend, I decided to take the very sage advice of one of my female mentors and nick-namesake, Virginia Woolf. The quote below introduces her famous essay on women and fiction, entitled "A Room of One's Own." To boil it down in terms that I can understand, she extricates the things that keep women from themselves and their goals, here, writing fiction. In a nutshell, she makes the claim, something she defines as her humble opinion, that "a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction." I'm being greatly reductive. However, so is her thesis. And that's why I like her so much. She gets to the point. And so will I. . .


So can you guess what I did? I'll tell you. I have begun construction on a room of my own. So far, I have one of these:


Lots of these:


And I am in the market for one of these:


Because, it seems, the Internet is not accessible on this variety of type pad. And, apparently, the Internet is very distracting. I think I have Twittered two entire novels, so far. It seems I have a problem with the Internet. Apparently.

When designing a new space, Martha Stewart (yes, I wrote "Martha Stewart" in the same post as "Virginia Woolf") says that you should choose one special piece—a piece of pottery, a clock, a favorite chair—and build around it. And so I have chosen my piece.

Can you guess? . . .



Shocked? It seems this painting has re-entered my life with a tour de force. It's all I write about here and I am planning a trip to go see it here. Have I mentioned that? I have even gone to great lengths to find the perfect dress in which to view it for the first time—aptly named the Portrait Dress, by the ever-romantic J. Peterman and Company.

So it seemed fitting. I couldn't think of anything better to signify my life-changing 'removal of head from sand and onto new horizons' transformation. A renaissance, you might say. Do you see her eyes? Do you see how they are sans sand? Me too.

And before you all worry that Miss Ive has lost her edge and become a complete romantic, you should know that the first thing she had installed was this—in the ceiling:



So she could put away her writing every night at a reasonable hour and watch something wholesome like this:



Sorry, gotta laugh for a minute before I push on to serious matters. Nope. Still laughing.

Okay.

I would love nothing more than for this room to represent this space. This place where I have come to meet with you all daily and, as a result, have realized the need for this renaissance. I would love for this room to be a collaboration. So I leave you today with one very important, space-changing question. . .

What color paint???????

Even if it is your first time here, please leave a suggestion or a link to a color sample. Miss Ive is in paint paralysis. It has to be perfect. PERFECT. Inspired by the painting? By a mood?