The deadline is approaching and my "creative space" shows no sign of cleaning itself up. I can move the piles of books and drafts to one side, to highlight the cherry boards of my writing table. I will happily photograph the narrow wall beside my computer table, to show off art by our own Lisa Jahn-Clough, by my pal the illustrator Eileen Christelow, and by my artist son, Ethan Murrow. But what to do about the quotes, typed up or hand-written on post-it notes, that litter my walls, cling with magnets to the filing cabinet, tilt at a drunken angle from my computer? These are quotes that made me laugh, or inspired me, or pleased me at the time. Do they make some sort of statement about my writing life? Or are they just random? (Kelly would say that's a good thing: being random.)
Here's a sample. "We are all just walking each other home." --Ram Dass (My husband, who grew up riding subways and buses in Manhattan, has no idea what this means.)
"What used to be called liberal is now called radical, what used to be called radical is now called insane, what used to be called reactionary is now called moderate, and what used to be called insane is now called solid conservative thinking." --Tony Kushner
"There is a vitality, a life-force, an energy, a quickening which is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it."
--Martha Graham. (This is on my wall because my mom--now in a wheel chair--once danced with Graham. It's also a good quote for me to read when I think of giving it all up and going to work in a plant nursery.)
A scrap of paper, torn from the moleskin notebook I carry on garden walks, says: "Horticulture is the art and science of moving things around"--Dennis Collins (the horticultural director at Mt. Auburn Cemetery, which is also an arboretum and one of my favorite places to walk).
There are poems: "Kuan Yin" by Laura Fargas, about the Chinese goddess of mercy. "Today," by Billy Collins. "The Peace of Wild Things," by Wendell Berry.
"A List of Instructions for the New Milennium" from the Dalai Lama dangles from the filing cabinet. His devilish smile beams from a photo above my desk.
A post-it note has this, from E.B. White: "Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch." (I remember sticking that up when both of our daughters-in-law were expecting.)
And this, from Kurt Vonnegut: "Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies: 'God damn it, you've got to be kind.'"
Random? Perhaps. Revealing? Maybe. What's on your wall?