It’s a quiet place in the corner of the house where the natural light beams through the whole space. A wall of books gathers dust on the ancient history portion of the shelves while the bright jackets of every Roald Dahl, Lemony Snicket, and C. S. Lewis novel still seem to glimmer after years of wear. The former owner of the house chose eggshell-colored walls with a heavy whipped-cream-colored carpet. The current owners look past the clash in aesthetics and toward the beauty of the simplistic space. There is a nook by a window — cozy enough in which to sit cross-legged and too humble for more than one person in that particular corner. This corner happens to be my favorite workshop, a kind of oasis just for me.
Roald Dahl, in particular, found comfort in his own sanctuary, his own creative space. He pinned photographs of his family and of reminiscent schooldays to one wall. Stacked letters from reading admirers kept his desk company. Cluttered and full of inspiration, Dahl’s “hut” allowed him to put pen to yellow legal paper for the sake of the production of his imaginative works from singing chocolate makers to recollections of his own childhood.
I believe in a similar space where the abstract and concrete collide, where words can transition from thought to ink, and where oil paints can be pressed down on canvas. I believe in a space where every artist independent of status or artistic focus feels the freedom to be inspired to create something of which to be proud. My own space may not resemble the chaos of Roald Dahl’s or the functionality that a desk and comfy swivel chair would provide. What matters about a creative space is the motivation to keep spiraling into imagination while the stress rolls away and cares subside for the time being.
The importance of a space one can call his or her own cannot be greater stressed. Whether the time alone is spent in serene reflection or superfluous productivity, giving yourself ten minutes or three hours is well worth the fruits it provides. Intellectual, artistic, and spiritual growth aren’t always the goals for me, necessarily, but they’re more like occasional incentives for giving myself a break from the world.
While we live in a constantly moving society where most people schedule themselves from sunrise to sunrise, it’s appealing to think that each of us can take time for ourselves to sit in our own eggshell-colored corner. And perhaps one of us will be the next “swishwifflingly” wonderful mind, as Dahl may have written it.