A version originally posted on my blog: thegiraffefiles.com


Now I have spent a weirdly long time thinking about the ideal space I would like to create for myself in order to 'maximise' my creativity, which in itself is an act of procrastination which is my main enemy when it comes to being creative. But there you go. 

Anyway, here it is, my fantasy 'office' space at it were.

Windows. For some reason every room I create for a house in something I’m writing starts with the windows. I have a mild fascination with them. I need (want) massive windows. Like hugely impractical floor to ceiling windows, preferably not facing the world because that could prove distracting (people watching is addictive…), but with some kind of view. A nice view. I fundamentally need a room with a view (which yes is a Virginia Woolf reference, as is the title, because reading that book made this dream workspace dreaming even bigger).

White/pale walls with pictures hanging up them (I am a sucker for a good quote in pretty typography…or I suppose I could have pictures of people I know up as well…although I have also really gotten into landscapes and more 'arty' pictures. That's Pinterest and Etsy for you). Wooden floors, maybe throw a rug in there, I don’t know. For some reason in my imagination what the walls and floors look like doesn’t come up.

I also want a massive bookcase. I want a wall lined with nothing but books (hey this is a dream work space, I can dedicate a wall to books and I own so many I maybe should). I love the idea of working in a room that is bursting with other people’s stories. A constant well of inspiration surrounding me for whenever things take a stagnant turn (which is often). I love the idea of looking around and seeing all the slightly cracked spines and faded writing looking back at me in an almost imposing way. There to make me want to try and write the thing that I am trying to write. A sort of beautiful threat.

Desks. Now desks are a bit of a problem for me, in that I can’t remember the last desk or table that I could fit under comfortably (and by that I mean with my legs crossed, because that is how I sit 85% of the time. The other 15% my legs are curled up underneath me). But I need a desk, preferably a dark mahogany or even better, black. I need a space to clutter with pens and stray scraps of paper. To stick post-it notes on and stack old notebooks on in a corner. To accumulate random coffee mug stains and empty packets of biscuits. Basically a place to create an organised kind of chaos. My favourite kind of chaos. (This is 100% an insight into what all my desks looked like at uni and what my desk at work also looks like, I tidy it all the time, but it always ends up organised chaos.)

And then I have my spinny chair. Comfy and adjustable and most importantly spinny (I am fully aware that ‘spinny’ isn’t technically a word).

And there we have it. My dream creative space.

Published by Sophie Thomas