A few weeks ago, I found myself able to getaway from the heat of Phoenix, Arizona and dashed to Lake Tahoe for a restful weekend. For me, restful means fun-filled days of long hikes. This photo was taken high above the Echo Lakes. Lovely.
Coming out from our extended walk via a boat, we passed a nice little island, where a cute cottage nestled with a deck that extended all the way to the lake. A beautiful golden retriever sat at the edge, guarding his master, a women who sat writing. Oh, the writer's life.
Since that moment I haven't been able to get that woman out of my mind. Imagine a setting like that in which to write. Yet, when I consider where my writing really gets done, I must admit it isn't when I'm in that type of environment. Often my husband and I have secreted away, he to fish and me to write in some wilderness area. I always go with such good intentions, but never seem to be able to concentrate - to work. The muse escapes me.
I've heard others speak about how invigorating it is to write in coffee shops. While I love the interplay of people surrounding me, my muse is always AWOL there, too. I generally gravitate to coffee shops when my work is in the editing stages - a time when my creativity isn't quite as crucial.
No, for me, the best writing has always been done in my office. A room of rich rose color that stimulates, but not so much that I can't focus. A place where my special things are nearby if I need them, but have become a part of the background, so they don't intrude.
I have tried many other places to find my muse: a hammock, a bathtub, a chair by the pool. While thoughts come to me in those moments, the words are elusive when I attempt to write from them. So I figure I may be like so many others, sentenced to a desk and chair in a room, sitting alone writing. A place where my muse has settled in and will talk to me.
Where do you find the muse?