I don't know if it's still going, but I can remember a feature in one of the Sunday supplements called
A Room of My Own. It's probably still appearing though- something like that would be as hard to get rid of as The Archers, but I don't want to give you the impression that I'm trying to turn my website into a miniature version of The Observer , or heaven forbid, The Mail on Sunday (sorry, mother).
Having your own space, particularly in London though, is vital. After a long hard day processing Council Tax direct debits and keeping my eyes peeled for Al-Qaeda suicide bombers on the tube, nothing seems quite so inviting as a private, comforting world where all my favourite books and useless possessions can intermingle with piles of unfiled clothes probably well past their wash-by date. I may indeed not have one enormous chair, but I do possess one of dimensions adequate enough for me to sit in and do little.
I'm quite pleased with the way my room and its inhabitants, animate or otherwise have coalesced. The stitched-together Mikeorama above may resemble a very small consulate that is having to accommodate several different countries at the same time , but I rather like its slightly befuddled atmosphere, and I even have a little bit of greenery outside the window to look at whilst I work at my computer. I didn't mean that last bit to sound like something from The Ballad of Reading Gaol, by the way.
My sister Leila, whose back can be glimpsed in the mirror took some of the photos: Clanger was very keen on this project and appears in septuplicate; my image can be spotted four-and-a-half times.
I will concede that the dimensions are a bit out of kilter on occasion, but I think you'll be able to grasp what I was trying to portray: it resembles something you might find in an album booklet for a band that no-one's going to remember in five years' time. There are two further versions of the picture available- click to your heart's content on one of the options below to access them. |
