Making My Mark

I went to Bristol on Sunday. Bristol, Pennsylvania. To get a desk. But not just any desk. A beauty. A magic maker.

When I announced my plan on Saturday night, my husband started to protest but decided against it. After twenty-one years he knows better. It’s a waste of energy. Because I’m going anyway. So what did he do? He got in the car. (Hee Hee). Because he knows there is nothing better than hitting the road with a crazy woman!

We set out early, just after sunrise. Always at home on the road, my senses came alive. Fall. The air was crisp and cool, the day new. The New York City skyline bid us good morning, and we crossed the Verrazzano Bridge. We drove the New Jersey Turnpike, then crossed the Delaware River and rolled right into Bristol. Simple and wonderful.

First things first, we found the home of The Painted Sage. I discovered her on Facebook Marketplace, where my quest for the perfect writing desk began. Refusing to settle for a mass produced, cheaply made but expensive, brand spanking new but charmless, piece of furniture, hauled around the country by a big gas-guzzling truck, I reached out to her about a beautiful antique desk that she revamped and posted for sale. I was informed that it had already sold. She provided her Instagram info and recommended that I check it for new postings.

Stalking her Instagram account, a few days later, I saw it go up! Another desk. MY DESK! It was exactly what I was looking for! So there I was in Bristol, pulling up to her precious front door.

There was a car in the driveway. On the back window, in perfect artsy white letters, it declared ‘Just Married.’ Damn COVID-19! Because I wanted to talk to her, learn her story. I wanted to see her face. I could see a faint smile in her exposed eyes. She looked like someone I would love to know. But instead, I was in and out, paying for the desk, mumbling through the mask, and loading it in the back of my 4-Runner with my husband’s help.

Realizing how conscious this choice was for me, this putting my money where my mouth is and supporting a local artist, this minimizing my carbon footprint on our glorious globe, this ‘not settling’ for some boring crappy desk, I paused to give thanks for my own vision and tenacity as we drove away.

Before heading back to Brooklyn, we explored historic Mill Street in downtown Bristol. Since it was so early, very few shops were open. One lovely little antique shop welcomed me with open doors. Over sips of their most delicious Fall Lattes, at Calm Waters Coffee Roasters, I remarked on my good fortune. My husband laughed and admitted it, “The desk is beautiful.” I picked up a piece of chalk and left my mark.

There are so many places out there, and I intend to go where my heart leads, and see all that I can see. There are so many people out there, so many souls, and I intend to know as many as I can. There is such beauty out there. Such art. The artists, the dreamers, my people, I intend to find them. To share. To grow.

I consider the little moments and the big moments, and everything in between; and as I feather my nest in preparation for another NYC winter, as I begin to immerse myself in the writing, I consider this moment right here, and my place in the grand cosmos. Just little old me, on the fifth floor, somewhere in Brooklyn…

Ahhh, great things are going to come off this little desk, great things.