Working areas can be interesting places, they can tell you so much about a person. I’ve a small house and with no room to spare (yet) I’ve claimed a corner in my living room, my corner.
My corner is warded by a fierce looking Spawn wielding a 2-handed runic sword. He keeps an eternal vigil, stoically standing over his tall tower of books. He knows the importance of his task, for such books contain the core of my inspiration.
To my wife’s dismay the wall of books that surrounds my corner keeps growing. I have around 150 books next to/on/in/underneath my desk and many more on shelves around the house. I like the smell of them, the texture of the paper and the weight. Don’t get me started about e-books…
I don’t know for sure when this fascination for books began. But I remember fondly when I was just a child and I used to go to visit my grandad over the weekends. He had a massive library at his study, tall shelves with books of all sorts. He would let me go loose and explore this magical room to my heart content and some times he would read countless stories to me, his eyes shining.
Now over 30 years later I’ve my own collection of books of all sorts. I don’t have a big study I’ve just a corner, but it is my corner. And when I see the books towering over my desk I feel like that little kid once more, my eyes shining.