Creative Space: The Work Light

I have this weird tradition of always taking a desk lamp before I leave a job. It didn't start that way. Taking, I mean. The second-worst job I ever had, I was doing desktop publishing for a graphics software company on the long slow slide to obsolescence. Tempers were high, drama was higher, everyone behaved badly. And when I left, someone suggested I take the green glass banker's lamp that had been in my cube, I think to assuage their guilt at their crappy treatment of an employee. Fine by me; it's Rowan's reading lamp now. The longest and goofiest contract not-a-real-job I ever had, I ended up with a cheap blue plastic torchiere lamp. It's in the playroom, because it's blue, and goofy. The very worst job I ever had, I was the Production Manager for a children's software company. When I left that job, I did my entire exit interview in Dilbert cartoons. It really was that bad. And with me came an industrial art graphics lamp with a high-intensity 100-W halogen bulb. Really puts the spot on things. I adore that lamp. It sits on my desk, keeping my efforts as high-intensity as its light. And last week, the bulb burned out. It's no ordinary bulb, it's this weird frankensteinian thing with bolts at the bottom. Home Depot didn't have them. No other local hardware had them. But this morning, my charming and talented hubby dropped by Lowe's, and sure enough, they had my bulb. It's interesting, but having my lamp back makes all the difference. The overhead room light didn't do the job; it had to be my art lamp. So now that I'm perking away under its bright and warming light, I find myself thinking that using this real art tool makes my work more like art. Gives me more credibility within my own head. And that internal boost results in an external product of higher quality. And yes. We bought spare bulbs.