DESK DILEMMA

Photo of Tori Mellott's desk courtesy of Domino.

I have a dilemma, dear reader. My workspace is incredibly uninspiring. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of earning my dough by means of engaging and delightful activities. I am, admittedly, a corporate drone. Until recently (eh, 2009 is still recent isn’t it?) I was able mitigate the situation by working in an abundantly creative environment. I was at liberty to decorate as I saw fit and had an entire office to do so. Now, I’m in an open workspace which subscribes to a rather unsympathetic clean desk policy. The office is nice, one of the nicer offices I’ve worked in, but one of steel, clean lines and starkness. It’s just fine to get the job done which I’m paid to do, but it leaves me creatively exhausted by the end of the workday. As one who dabbles in my passionate pursuits after hours, I arrive home with a dry well of inspiration. I want to arrive at work each day eagerly, knowing that I’m only a few hours away from whimsy and exploration. I need an overhaul.

The rules of engagement are:

- Décor must be orderly and fairly inconspicuous. No large artwork and nothing controversial.

- Something which mixes form with function will much easier pass muster than something merely decorative.

- Must be lovely!

I have a few ideas knocking around in my head but would love your thoughts as many of you inspire me on many levels.

SLIMMING REGIME

Image courtesy of the glorious Nigel Slater.

‘Tis that time of year when waistbands become a bit snug around one’s middle and resolve is mustered in an effort to shed the unwelcome flesh which has appeared over the holiday (or in my case, the past 12 months). Methods are researched and poured over, in some cases with greater care than our university studies in days past, each promising swift and effortless results. I’ve indulged in my fair share of snake oil and though I find a bit more of myself embracing this new year, I refuse to embark on a fool’s journey to weight loss.

This year, common sense will prevail. Planning will prevent last minute pizza ordering, the recipe book will enjoy newfound activity as will my body. It’s quite simple, really. After all, licorice tea is a suitable surrogate for those delectable and charming Scottie Dog confections I devour with abandon.

What are your resolutions for this new year?

BOOKISH BINGE

Photo via here.

I readily submit to you, dear friends, a confession. I am an addict. I am obsessed with books. I simply cannot stop acquiring them. Bookstores, peddlers and pushers of all my desires, must be wholly avoided at times. I once stayed at the Library Hotel in NYC and spent an entire evening with my nose planted in every aged volume, submerging myself in the aroma of weathered paper. The snap of a spine and crackle of a translucent cover performed a symphony varying in depth depending on the heft of each tome.

Ritually, in that lull between Christmas day and the New Year, I find myself ambling along the aisles of my nearest book retailer. Arms weighted with anthologies to autobiographies, hours escape the day, pecuniary concerns have fled, and I ultimately saunter out accompanied by fog of utter ecstasy.

This year a list will chaperone me.

1. This Domino Book.

Yes, THAT book. Yes, I’m the last person on the planet to purchase it. I also have never seen Titanic, but that’s more out of obstinacy than any other influence.

On recommendation from Lisa Borgnes Giramonti at A Bloomsbury Life:

2. Punch

3. A Perfectly Kept House Is The Sign Of A Misspent Life

The latter is an attempt to relax my rigid Virgoan deportment.

4. And anything by Beverley Nichols

These should keep me occupied until February, when the cycle invariably repeats itself.

What, dear reader, is your unconquerable addiction?

A CHRISTMAS WISH

This would be the view from our front door.

This holiday, I have a Christmas wish, one whose fate will be revealed months from now. I posted earlier this year about wanting a home with a few, non-negotiable features. Since that post, BTG and I discovered a darling rambler, nestled within a diminutive forest, yet have delayed acting upon our desires. Fed up with abrasive conditions of our current locale, the bucolic charms of this gem with a mountain view beckons. Unfortunately the home is leased for six months as of a week ago. The sting from my own procrastination is palpable. I can already envision the large bay window lit from within, welcoming us home every evening. Thankfully, my inquiry was welcomed warmly and my wish for 2011, dear reader, is to have the honor to call this jewel ensconced within the trees home.

What is your Christmas wish?

WEEKEND MISCELLANY

My spartan breakfast this morning.

‘Tis the season of mirthful gourmandizing. There will be a collection of merrymakers at twilight tomorrow. All other unclaimed moments will be flurry of wrapping, knotting, stirring, and kneading. At some point I will squeeze in some stretching, breathing and maybe a plié or two.

What, dear reader, will occupy your time this weekend?

BRAND NEW DAY

It has been quite some time since I’ve posted here and even longer than that since I’ve written anything substantial. Now comfortable with providing an accurate rather than falsely generalized assessment of this year thus far, I can attest I’ve had better. In fact, 2009 was pretty fantastic! I found a new city, a new income and, most importantly, a new love. It appears as if 2010 was the payment, due upon receipt, for the cache of emotional gold granted to me last year.

Amid the customary work turbulence, steady and omnipresent, I lost a best friend and welcomed a new one. BTG and I planted a seed and cultivated its tender buds while attempting to quell our impatience in its unhurried germination. I’ve labored far too strenuously on others’ projects and neglected my own, this online journal included.

Through the murk, though, I’ve bloomed. I’m more inspired. You may have noticed a change in decor around these parts, one which is not merely superficial. I’ve come to accept that those tremendously gloomy events in life will always come knocking. The most effective means of mitigating their effects is to relish the ephemeral bits of life which give you great pleasure, even if they're found at the bottom of a soup pot. I hope to share those moments with you, dear reader, right here.

MT

Photo courtesy of Nigel Slater.

One should never judge...

A superficial examination may provoke one to assume I’ve abandoned blogging. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have taken a bit of a sabbatical from writing and checking in on my blog friends, that is without question. It all has a purpose, dear friends. Bow Tie Guy and I have been in the midst of nurturing a development, if you will. No, no, not that kind of development. More precisely, we are cultivating an embryo of a business. Every spare neuron, not occupied with our day jobs, is devoted to cultivating our joint endeavor. It’s terribly exciting, I will say that, but it also leaves few idle minutes. More will be revealed at a later date...

When I’m not toiling away in the office or devoting my evenings to research (sincerest apologies, BTG), I’m in pursuit of inspiration. I’ve spent the better part of my adulthood helping build some incredible (and lousy) brands. Having, now, the chance to construct my own, I’m finding myself with an insatiable desire for stimuli. Music, graphics, the way the light hits the leaves on the side of I-66 at 8:17 am - it’s all consumed, recorded and stored within my internal hard drive.

I was having one of those moments, traipsing around the web, where I was continually stumbling upon inspiration. A post from the Neo-Traditionalist introduced me to the most delightful bookstore, Slightly Foxed, in London. Whilst scrolling through the photos of said establishment, I narrowed my focus on a most charming book cover for Parrot and Olivier in America, by Peter Carey.

The script of the title and the winsome illustrations set my heart racing. I immediately searched Amazon and found this.

Thud. (That was the sound of my head colliding with my desk in utter boredom.) A few additional seconds of digital sleuthing produced this Australian version:

Still not as brilliant as the first but much improved, in my opinion. I will never understand why British and American books require different covers as we share a language. What I can confirm, however, is that the Brit designs typically leave my heart aflutter.

(The book, for those interested, is a work of historical fiction about French author and political philosopher, Alexis de Tocqueville. de Tocqueville is imagined through the character Olivier de Garmont, a French aristocrat sent to the New Word with John “Parrot” Larrit, who is responsible for spying on his young master for an overprotective mother. What ensues is a tale of a “mid-nineteenth-century Oscar and Felix” set against the backdrop of America’s infancy.

The description above distilled from Amazon.com)