This is my desk. My working mess, my creative chaos, my safe place, my wild place, my me-place, my desk…
This is what I wrote underneath one of my Instagram posts. I’ve always had my struggles with finding a comfortable place to work. I currently live in my 4th country and I’ve changed a few apartments in each one. I kind of learned to live light along the way – when you don’t have much things, it is easier to pack everything and go. I never needed much art supplies – just some pens, paper, maybe a few canvases. I leave a path of art supplies and sketches behind me when I move.
When I was in school, I shared a room with my brother, but we both had our desks – everything had its own place. My first room away from home really made me reconsider what I actually need. The room was so small – single bed, waredrobe, a table that I used for everything, because it was the only place I could put something and less then a 1m2 space in the middle. Cosy. This table was the place for my coffee mugs, the place where I ate, because we didn’t have a kitchen table, I had my make up on it, study books, sketchbooks, other books, laptop – it was a magical dark blue table that fit all my belongings.
I have some of my favorite memories in that small room…
Then I moved to another place and another one after that, and another one after that…Tables and desks were there, then they were gone. I got so used to being uncomfortable that it was not important anymore.
I could take out my stuff anywhere and draw.
Six years after I moved away from home, 4 countries later, I am in Belgium. And guess what – I have a desk! For how long? Who knows…But this is the first time I feel like this desk, this simple table is mine.