Over at
, there is this wonderful poem called Happy Ideas, which took its inspiration from a Duchamp quote:I had the happy idea to fasten a bicycle wheel
to a kitchen stool and watch it turn.
—DUCHAMP
One night when I was not feeling particularly contented, my older daughter was asking me all kinds of questions, to try to direct me to something I’d find inspiring. (She likes for me to be happy. 😊 )
Somehow we landed on the “Happy Ideas” poem, which gave me the freedom to remember that not all ideas need to “go somewhere.” In fact, some of our happiest ideas are simply fantasies that we can build out, faster and farther than we might ever be able to do in life.
I told my daughter that one of my happiest recent moments was when I was creating my many Substacks—not all of which are understood as “mine.”
“It was really fun to build the little worlds, make the graphics, invite people into the spaces,” I told my daughter.
“You should do that, then.”
“You mean, just make little worlds?”
“Yeah, and they don’t have to be real. You can make them just for fun. And you can do all the graphics.”
“Things begun and never done,” I smiled.
She laughed. This was the perfect idea!
So I am going to do it—start little businesses and causes and organizations and events that I don’t finish. Start things that aren’t, in fact, even real. They will be Happy Ideas, beginning with the Poets & Writers House I once dreamed of creating, just up the street.
Where did that idea first come from?
See, I’d made friends with a chatty old man who lived in a fine little cottage-of-a-house under the tall pines. He was a stone mason, and he’d created lovely little gardens and paths and he’d added a bench which he told me I was welcome to come and sit on whenever I wanted. I got it in my head that the old man would someday give me the house, and I would turn it into a Poets & Writers house. This had no basis in reality. It was, however, a very fun fantasy.
Here is the logo for everything related to my imaginary Poets & Writers house. I can see it on a tiny greeting card I will give you when you “come to the house.”
Here is the door to the house. It reminds me of that “kingfishers catch fire” line from Hopkins.
As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame…
Maybe the greeting card you receive when you come to Poets & Writers House will have that kingfisher line inside it … to remind you that you—like the kingfisher who catches fire, and like the dragonfly that draws flame—have something very special that might be sparked, no matter how tired or uninspired you feel.
I invite you to open the door.
Inside, there will be a small landing with a window seat, where you can sit for a moment and take it all in, before you step down to the sunken living room, where there will be a plush, chocolate-brown couch and a red chaise lounge, near beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook a garden of sage, thyme, rosemary, lavender. The chocolate couch will have pillows like this—all soft—for whatever suits your style: silk or corduroy…
It is warm at the moment in New York, so there will be no need for a fire at the hearth. But you can imagine coming back in winter, so we can light one and enjoy the mantelpiece, glowing with gold and gleaming with dark peace lilies…
Come inside and tell me—what kind of tea I can make for you, dear Poet or Writer? I have many, many teas. Just let me know what type I should pull from the shelves: green, black, red, or white, and then you can choose from the menagerie …
As always,
L.L.
Is there a bench or maybe a comfy wicker chair out in the herb garden? Or surely there’s also a flower garden. Maybe a little pond. I think I should like to sit outside and just breathe and watch the birds and the butterflies. Maybe I would take a sketchbook. As for tea...perhaps a cup of black with a hint of almond and vanilla.
I love your logo! Vintage and unique. And was a pleasure to see you enjoying this craftsmanship of your house! I would love some black tea with apricot and a bit of cream. Thank you for opening up the house to a viewing, L.L. (So sweet that your daughter helped you and wants you to be happy. Something very real and dear.)