Sitting alone at my desk, with the morning mist creeping across the harbour obscuring the familiar view which normally inspires daydreams and encourages procrastination, I am urged to turn to the blank page in front of me and begin to gather some words to accompany this newsletter. I am, like so many others now, working a lot from home. Whilst our home has always been our sanctuary it has become more than ever a cherished refuge. With the enduring threat of Covid in our world the current focus on the home workspace feels appropriate and understandable.
Working from home has long been my favoured modus operandi - to be alone with my thoughts in a space that is personal and makes me feel whole. When my surroundings reflect the peculiarities of my aesthetic self I find I can relax, create, write and draw - there is flow and things get done. I can even log in to the dreaded Xero and do stuff with numbers (only if I have to) but in beautiful surroundings even the most arduous of chores are softened.
The quirks and ornamental details of peoples workspaces are fascinating - Proust would write recumbent in his bed surrounded by cork lined walls to muffle sound and mitigate the allergic effect of dust. Ernest Hemingway preferred to keep a notebook in his pocket and write in cafes surrounded by the hiss of a coffee machine and the bustle of life. Virginia Wolf however, declared in her celebrated essay that "in order to write a woman must have a room of her own". I have spent a lifetime imagining Virginia Wolf’s “room of her own”, this enchanting idea of a private space in which to work or create has motivated much desk arranging and picture hanging - I have always endeavoured to create such a space for myself.
It occurs to me that this exquisitely painted, undeniably feminine Venetian desk would beautify any home office or grace a discerning and uncommon room of one’s own.