This morning, I am determined to rewrite the opening line of my novel. I packed up my computer and biked down to Caribou Coffee. This place has great writing memories for me. This is where I came early in the morning for weeks and weeks when I was writing my first novel, leaving the kids at home with Earl.
I felt sure I could make some real writing progress here.
The room has a warehouse feel in the open ceiling that shows the ductwork painted a redwood color, but the floor is wood and painted concrete and the furniture has a crafstman style -- wooden love seats with upholstered cushions, leather arm chairs and slick wood tables with straight backed wooden chairs.
Many of the tables are taken and even more of the outlets for plugging in computers are occupied. I spotted an open table and made a beeline for it. I set up my computer, even finding an available outlet. Once settled at the table, I looked up and nearly jumped away from the pastel drawing that is hung on the wall above me.
Caribou displays the artwork of various artists. Some of them have been whimsical, some of them beautiful. This one was just scary.
At first, I thought it was a painting of a sad clown. As I looked at it more, I realized it was supposed to be a woman with a hat.
Either way, it's definitely inhibiting my writing.
The placement of the lights didn't make for a clear picture, but I think you can get the idea.
Now I need to ignore the freaky woman peering down at my computer and try to write.
The drawing is for sale for $50 if anyone wants to buy it and get it off the wall so I can focus on my work again.
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