My Right Foot---Day 2: Monet's Bookshelf

Since my last post, a few people have written wondering why I’m not feeling my old creative self. After all, in the past month alone I’ve written two short scripts, started rehearsals for a film I’m shooting, written quite a bit of a feature script I’m adapting from a novel I wrote, took on a job as a sketch writer for a series at a local comedy club, and started a food blog.

I don’t know the answer to that question except to say that it just wasn’t enough. What was missing was the sense of play.

I suppose it didn’t help that the lousy New York weather kept us all huddled up in our warm apartments. Yes, I read and watched films. Yes, I listened to music and occasionally even danced around my apartment to the dismay of my cat.

But it just wasn’t enough.

One of the elements missing was the thrill of doing things with my hands. And no, typing does not count.

So this morning, I woke up and looked at my bedside bookshelf---a small, yet sturdy, wooden book shelf I picked up at a Flea Market-type shop a year before I moved to New York. I had painted it white and a sort of slate grey-blue color after I brought it home. But, eight years later, it was in dire need of a new paint job.

For inspiration, I pulled some interesting books off my shelf and started to dreaming.

I’ve always loved the distinctive clutter of Vita Sackville-West’s writing desk in the tower at Sissinghurt.

The castle and its famous gardens are on my to-do travel list. The photo comes from a book called “Sissinghurt: Portrait of a Garden” by Jane Brown. One of my favorites to peruse when I’m feeling a bit misty for English Gardens and the sound of cicadas on a warm summer day.

But for a small bookshelf like this, I suppose I shouldn’t be too busy.

The bright yellows from a book called “Pure Style” would certainly add some sunshine at my bedside.

But perhaps, too bold.

However, the yellows reminded me of Monet’s yellow dining room at his home in Giverny.

I visited the historic home a few years ago on a trip to Paris. Giverny is but a short bus ride out to the countryside maybe 45 minutes outside Paris. Though photo-taking was not allowed in the actual house---the garden with its flowers and lily pad-filled ponds was fair game. One of my favorite photos from the whole trip was this shot I took of Monet’s green boat anchored in the lily pond and tucked behind some bamboo.

I loved the green-on-green look and pictured Monet gathering his paints and easel and setting up a work station in the middle of this beautiful pond.

The lime-yellow hue of his bedside table might work. Hmmm. I’d have to think.

I sanded down the old paint on the bookshelf a bit and dusted it off.

I looked around the general area of the bookshelf. My bed has a light maple frame and the bedding is generally light in color. On the other side of the bookshelf is a full-length mirror with a light wood frame. I could paint the frame if I wanted to, it’s an untreated piece just clamoring for some attention.

Ultimately, the fate of the bookshelf rests on this…

An old-time radio that normally sits atop the shelf at my bedside. Whatever I do, will have to go with this.

Tomorrow I’m off to the paint store.

Tonight I turn on the radio vintage radio and hear Verdi’s Quartet for Strings in E. It’s a bit fuzzy and bits of static hit the air as I walk past the window; and I’m sure I could simply go online and listen to a perfectly clear broadcast streamed directly thru my computer---but then, I wouldn’t get to see the glow of the old radio as its wires and tubes scrappled to bring me the distant sound waves pulled out of the air.

I listen to the scratchy quartet and eye photos of Monet’s garden, wondering what herbs I’ll put in my window garden this year.