Some day I will have one. A desk where all I do is write.

Okay…and maybe read.

But I will read to write. And this desk will have only what I need to write.

It will face something that inspires me. Anything but a blank wall. It will face a window. Or photos that move me. Or perhaps this:

(credit here)

It would have a vase with flowers. Notepads and pens. My laptop. A photo of me and my love. And that’s about it.

This writing desk would be my place to think, to dream. And to move beyond thinking & dreaming to words.

Words written on paper. Words that contain part of my soul, breathing from the page.

Someday I will have my desk. But for now I will write anyways. Wherever, whenever and however I can.

I realize it’s the words that matter, after all. Not where they’re written from.