Back from Corpus. My eyes feel like sandpaper and my brain feels like mud. I look forward to Friday, and hope that the tropical storms stay in the Gulf where they belong.
Bob Vila’s Paint Designer is exactly the tool I’ve been wishing I could find, and yet it’s evil and I wish I didn’t know where it is. I’ve spent the last smidgen of my lunch break planning the color scheme (and furniture, and curtains, and artwork) of study I don’t have.
To be honest, I’m not just planning a study. I’m planning an entire writing retreat. You see, I’d like to go on one, and I can’t find any good locations within a reasonable driving distance. It now exists in my head—a green room with polished wood furniture and a view of a pond, or maybe the kind of leafy tree that grew outside Lisa’s study window in Dallas. There’s a bare wooden desk on one side and a couch or maybe a chaise on the other. No books. No phones. No people. Just me and my brain, and nothing that looks remotely like my apartment.
I’m not sure how a desire for a quiet place where I can hear myself (and my characters) think has led me to choosing paint colors on the web. Nevertheless, I’ve grown attached to Robin Hood green.
Perhaps it’s time to start looking for a house.