Five: my desk is from Indonesia by way of Wellington. It’s probably teak. It has to be taken apart to get through a standard doorway. The wood is imperfect, with knots and scratches and discolourations. I have stained it with a hot cup of tea, and then again with an oil burner. And in the corner is my wing-backed chair covered in orange, red and purple stripes. These are two of my favourite pieces of furniture.
Four: the room overlooks the garden and gets the sun for most of the day. It is the brightest room in the house. It used to be a children’s room and the ceiling is painted like the sky. There are gorgeous deep red velvety full length curtains and during winter it has a cozy, warm feel to it.
Three: the back wall opposite is covered in bookshelves. I have a shelf of poetry. I find most of my answers there.
Two: the picture on the left is a Picasso print called Woman Writing. On the right are two fine art photographs of cupcakes and yellow roses, from Ms Susannah Conway. And peaking out of the top of the photo are wooden angel wings that connect me to my tribe. The centre print is Jasper John’s Flag. This is one of my favourites. I saw the original at MOMA and it made me gape. It is made of ripped newspaper from the early 1950s with plaster roughly brushed on top. I love that it is anything but a flag. And that’s why they make one exit through the gift shop.
One: by default this has become my space. I escape up here. To write. Work. Create. Dream. It smells of my favourite candles. My music plays through the mac. Science Guy often brings bunches of flowers home and I keep a small vase on my desk. I love it when he comes in and sits on the chair and tells me about his day. Rex too, loves this space. After his sixth breakfast, he will stealthily creep across the threshold and launch himself onto the desk, like a massive furry grenade.
This is where the magic happens.