February 17, 2013
My room with a view
After years of studying and writing I finally have a room of my own for the very first time. Ever since I was at school I’ve worked all over the place, wherever I can: at the kitchen table, on a dressing table, in various libraries and even occasionally in a café, but now I have a small room all to myself. A room to hide in, away from the noise and bustle of family life. What’s more, it’s a room with a view. Living on the very edge of a residential suburb, I can watch the changing colours of the hills, the drifting clouds and the birds flickering past my window. Everyday the view is different and it gives me respite from the cold, filthy streets of Victorian Manchester.
When I first moved into my room, it was a jaded nursery with old pictures of Winnie the Pooh and holes in the walls where heavy shelves had sagged and pulled away the plaster. Now I’ve transformed the space (with help, of course) into a place that I love, a refuge – a room just for me. It has some of my favourite things in: a nest of Matryoshka dolls from a recent trip to Russia, baskets of stationery, a letter rack and an old map of Manchester in a frame. It’s wonderful to work with all my things around me to inspire me and keep me company. I have shelves full of books so I can just reach out and pick one up whenever I need to – no more rummaging in cardboard boxes or dragging crates from the loft. I have maps, magazines, old postcards and photos.
I feel very lucky to have a space of my own and I love spending time in here everyday. It is ‘my’ room with a view!