I was talking with a friend recently about getting back in the creative zone as a writer, and what that would look like if it were a tangible location I could go to rather than just a head space that I operate in when I write.

The idea of a place that was all my own and wholly dedicated to engaging my imagination was such an intriguing scheme that I couldn’t help but give my attention to it.

I decided that, firstly, any creative zone of my own making would need to be a vast space and preferably located in the middle of a large open field. This offers opportunity to breathe. To fill your lungs with the day’s delights and give your heart the room to run.

In the center of this large field is a tree. The wide old oak kind. It’s limbs are so thick you can’t wrap arms around them, and it’s canopy spreads over the field with plenty of shade. The lowest hanging branches have wooden rungs to climb up in. Each step takes you further from the ground until you find a brave little opening in the massive tree. This is where I would hang a hammock. I would nestle it between two of the biggest arms, so that you when you lay in its cocoon you get the feeling that you’re being held by the tree itself.

In another part of the field, I would build a room. Inside this room would be a world of hands-on manipulatives. Part of creativity for me is to let my mind go free, but in a structured sort of way that has purpose and an end to aim for. That’s why this room would have tables filled with fun things like magnets, puzzles, blocks, play dough, and moon sand. I used to love that stuff as a kid. In fact, I think this area would be fit for a child. A child who dares to dream and build, and believe.

My imagined creative zone 100% has a paint dance section. 🙂 Think pumped up music (or really a varied playlist of choice), open dance floor, blank canvas stretched across walls, floor, and ceiling. Imagine instruments of all variety also strewn about in another part of that big field. Oh, and lots and lots of paint.

I also love the idea of a virtual reality space where you can plug your thoughts into a screen and interact with your own imagination…but that’s where that ends. I’m way more of a naturalist kind of gal than a sci-fi enthusiast, and a virtual reality pod seems too futuristic to fit into this daydream. Maybe instead, I would reserve that last corner of the field to plant some flowers around an open gazebo within which I would sit in a wooden rocking chair. The kind that’s been worn in and holds a host of history in each of its grainy planes. And right next to mine would be another rocking chair, because although I love to spend hours imagining and creating worlds with my words, it’s not a place I can exist in alone. To truly live I must share all my imagined things and envisioned concepts. I must bring in others to see and dream alongside of me. For, to me, the best kind of creative zone is one that fuels my everyday life and also one that is fueled by my everyday life.