
Above: my big old monster of a desk.
I bought my monster desk from the Wellington Central Salvation Army op-shop in 1999 – the year I was studying creative writing full-time.
I think at the time I felt I needed a serious desk to be a serious writer.
When I got it home, it had old papers in the drawers from the Ministry of Education so I guess that’s where it spent the first part of it’s working life?
It’s huge and heavy and more than once when we’ve moved house we’ve had to take doors off their hinges to get it inside.
It’s heavy and daft…and I still love it, twenty-five years on.
*
I share this picture of my home working space because for the next three weeks, I’m one of two inaugural Verb Home-Based Writing Residents!
Having begun my home-based residency, I want to publicly applaud Verb for their forward-thinking, compassion and generosity in establishing this (sadly) unique opportunity for writers who have circumstances which make applying for away-from-home artist residencies from challenging to impossible.
When I first saw the advertisement for the home-based residency, I felt so very moved and so happy for our NZ writing community. I know so many writers for whom travelling to writing opportunities is outside what is possible in their lives.
This home-based residency acknowledges and honours the unique challenges of disability, of care work and of care load.
More than anything else, it gives visibility to a strata of creatives who often feel invisible, unseen and unsupported. I know that while I have done my very best to keep my creative work alive it has often felt like swimming upstream of the demands of my life.
(Btw, If you don’t know me well enough to know what my circumstances are, I have an adult son (he’s 20) with autism and I am his main carer. I do my writing work around his care.)
I also wish to thank Verb for generously deciding to award two residencies in this inaugural year. They advertised for one and after considering the applications, awarded two. How marvellous, hey?
My fellow ‘at-home’ resident is the brilliant Henrietta Bollinger. Do go and read Henrietta’s book. It’s smart, fierce and very funny.
So here I sit, at home at the monster desk as usual…but with the warmest feeling of support, visibility and with large swells of gratitude.
Thank you so much, Verb.
I treasure every comment. Thanks for stopping by!