My workspace history…
So, I finally have a workspace that I’m super happy with, except in one respect: it’s in the bedroom of our huge two-room+kitchen apartment, and my boyfriend has such a different sleep schedule to me that when I’d like to be working (early morning) he’s still sleeping. Apart from that it’s pretty much perfect. My desk is nestled in the corner by a big, bright window, I can hear the rain, and the fan keeps me cool. We have creaky wood floors, which I love; my desk has plenty of drawers; the internet works beautifuly; and I have cheery yellow flowers on the second windowledge.
The two best things about it are:
1. Mike’s workspace (music studio) is in the other room, so I can close the door and we both have space and privacy for most of the day.
2. I don’t have to leave the house to go to work! (Except when I’m at the gallery, which- since it’s unpaid – I’m reducing to two days per week on location, from this week).
Before we moved here, we were sharing Mike’s tiny, dark, one-window-man-cave a few blocks West. My desk was in the narrow hallway – meaning visitors had to clamber past me – and I worked approximately five feet away from the couch+desk, on which Mike did his music and college work. It was suffocating for both of us, but we each managed to do some pretty good work while we were there, despite the stress and general awfulness. I tried working at the gallery, the front porch and several lovely cafes, but the heat and lack of AC generally got the better of me.
Turning the clock back a little further, I used my childhood, dark wood writing desk (good feeling) set up in a packed box room at my parent’s house (literally packed with laundry, my brother’s possessions, family photos, videos, books… hardly any floor space). Mess drives me crazy, so not sure how I coped, except out of necessity. A few years ago it was equally disordered, and my sewing room. Privacy here was good though, and it was always cold, which I find conducive to thinking for some reason. Big jumpers = the best.
York University was prior to that – during my MA i divided my time between my huge rented room, with a wide desk and peeling paint in Heslington, and the postgrad art history study room, which had THE BEST office chairs ever. Back support rules. And a slow internet connection, which promoted hard work, and hard copy reading and note-taking. I had a couple of lovely friends that woulg work there too, and we’d chat for approx 10 minutes per day, then get down to writing. I love that kind of study mate. At home, I’d talk to my intelligent, well travelled, hippy landlady about my work and hers, and it felt good. Except Mike was far, far away in the USA.
In London, I wrote in various horribly messy bedrooms, kitchen tables, living rooms, cafes, etc. I used a desk at a gallery I worked in for a while. And also loved to stay late in my very first studio in Dalston, propped up on my elbows with my laptop, a clutter of magazines, and a beer on the mezzanine. I wrote a couple of my first ever art reviews (actually published by a-n’s print magazine) that way.
Anyway, I thought I’d list my workspaces, as I know very few freelance writers that actually have offices, or even desk space in an academic or creative setting. Again, it’s one of those non-glamorous aspects of the writing life, that you just have to get used to. Then again, I love working at home. I get antsy if I’m elsewhere for too long (though I like looong walks too). I like the idea of having a writing studio – more like a conventional white-walled, dusty art studio surrounded by the smells and sounds of art making. Perhaps that’s something I’ll work on creating if I stay in Philadelphia past this year. I’ve met another couple of writers who envision something similar.
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How about you?
