Ah, The Castle. The very stereotypical and surprisingly uncommon Australian family.
But unfortunately today I'm not brushing on the rissoles or that fishing can be divided into 10% brains, 95% muscle and the rest good luck. I'm leaning more towards the serenity.
I was sitting at my newly arranged desk, surrounded by trinkets, tea and tasty treats, leaning back on my red leather chair when I said quietly to myself, "Ah, the serenity."
While I have the whole room to myself, the comfortable bed and overspilling bookcase, I reckon if I had to sit, work or be confined to one spot, it would be that crowded little desk. It's where I've toiled over mathematical, scientific, literary and historical feats, where I've let my creativity flow in my sketch book and through the words of my new novel. This, I concluded, is where I'm at my best.
And all the little nick-nacks scattered on its ordinary surface paint my life. It's in the shape of a bright money tin, a growing stack of cd's, discarded wrapping of a precious tea cup, a plateful of ribbons, jewellery and buttons, a jar filled with sweets and my overly-zealous sketching mannequin.
This, my friends, is my life, structured upon this insignificant table that somehow means the world to little me.
- xx
They may not be the best quality photos, but they're mine.
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