Messes, Generative & Debilitating: National Poetry Month, Day 25


I finally got around to getting bookcases, 22 months after moving to the Cackalacka. It’s only taken me two weeks to hire someone to assemble them (he assembled 1). Today I assembled one & will likely get to the other tomorrow. My office-cum-bedroom is finally starting to look like a room v a storage unit. Back in 2007 I moved to Indiana with more books and zero bookcases. A year later, I bought cases. Before that I took what I could to my work office and left 18 boxes stacked in my room. A few years before that I was lucky enough to have a few built-ins and closets with shelves stacked from floor to ceiling. 

Messes are messy. Sometimes they are dynamic. Hybrid work is messy. An unneat unsymmetrical untidy blend of styles. 

 Too, a messy desk generates energy for me. Makes me want to work through the piles. At work I can be task-oriented although I hate tasks. But whipping through stacks of papers says one thing to me: once you’ve done that you can get your own writing done. Of course one pile replaces another.

A messy home. Today I took a nap to escape the sheer reality of my house. 

I often wonder if Gertrude Stein kept a tidy office. Her tenderest buttons says yes. Here is her book in its entirety. 


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