What's on your desk? - Anna Rosenblum Palmer
For several years I have been attempting to embrace what I know to be true. Having less stuff creates more room for living. If you take a look at my desk you can see just how well my de-accession has gone. Not well. Still when push back my chair and take a look there are things I love and things I laugh at. There are actual and aspirational objects, and there is a map of my life. In addition to the metaphoric map there is a physical map. It is the artist block print of Denver neighborhoods in orange. Next to it, out of sight of my work area hangs Steve’s map of Denver. It is one of those gas station maps unfolded and pinned to the wall. It has streets and direction and all sorts of information for navigating. Like, you know, a map. My map is pretty, and it depicts what makes a city to me. Not roads and traffic patterns but neighborhoods and people. Above the desk I have a shelf with tax information. You have to take my word for it because it has its back to me. Or more accurately I have my back to it. Then, because I am super generous and they have such symmetrical spines I house Steve’s beer advocate magazines. Next to them is 5280 and Modern in Denver. The issue that featured our kitchen. I felt proud at the time of the photo shoot but in the end it comes out as a mass of grey. In real life it is our stuff that that creates color and texture. For the photos we stripped it down. And stripped it of soul. Next to the organizers are a Jonathan Adler vase with an almost dead succulent. Sometimes I remember to water it. Luckily it is pretty forgiving. The succulents are all over the house because I was thoroughly convinced by the Modern Bohemian book that I need succulents. I was less convinced about the macrame but I have to say as time goes on I consider it. There are two tarnished silver trophies from my Grandfather’s days as national bridge champion. Or maybe something less than that. I like to think he was national champion but I don’t really have proof. I know he was head of the world bridge association and played with Omar Shariff. But these trophies celebrate the 1960s National Men’s pairs champion (that sounds a lot like a national champion to me) and the North Line Championship. No date, no place. Sort of like the mirror behind them. I don’t remember its provenance (10 dollar word gained from being the child of an art collector) but I can tell you I have dragged it to 14 houses and never found a place that it looked it. Here it is fine and does the job of reflecting light from the sliding doors into our side yard. It also reflects my greasy hair as I take the picture of ...
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