The Office

Just before the holidays, I signed a lease on a small office space.

I had been thinking about this step for a long time.

First, buying a piano displaced me from my home office.  (Both my girls play and the keyboard wasn't doing it anymore.)  I moved to the basement, which is unfinished but has good sized windows.  I thought I would hate it but with a rug and a little decor, it wasn't so bad.

But then, I started thinking about getting an intern.  I conducted some meetings with my contractor at my kitchen table.  I wondered if I wanted a street level space (walk ins!) or a shared loft (photoshoots!).  I fell in love with the Ivy Arts building.  I continued to work from the basement, in straight view of monkey bars and a man cave.  (True story.)

And then, we got a puppy.

It became both more necessary and more impossible to work from home.  One day in December, I went on craigslist and found a small but charming space with tin ceilings, hardwood floors, and reasonable rent, just a few minutes (and directly on route) to my kids' school.  I met the landlord, also a mother of two girls, also teetering on middle age, also in a newish career.  I hemmed and hawed, but much less than usual.  I signed the lease.  We went to Texas for Christmas.

I forgot what trouble it is to move, even a small move, and if I am being honest (I am being honest), a month after I took possession I am still moving in.

Right now it is lovely, despite the card table I am using as a temporary desk.  Lovely, realistically, because all of my mess and piles and tangles of fabric swatches are still in my home office space.


(as shared on instagram)

I spent more time than usual there today, and as I was leaving, I had this flash of what it should be.


When people say things in magazines like "I work with color all day, I want my office to be devoid of it!"  Or, "I need to come home to white so I can breathe!" I may, in the past, have scoffed.  But guess what?  Today I felt how calm and pretty the office was, and how utterly destroyed that sensibility will be the minute I bring in the half dozen crazy colored rug samples that are currently in the back of my car.

For once in my life, I truly get the appeal of neutrals.

Maybe tomorrow (or soon) I'll talk about what it actually IS and why.  And what we (or at least I) can learn from it.