In summer the balcony is my favourite writing space. Since I love writing in cafés I’ve tried to create an atmosphere that satisfies my sensory cravings for coffee, music, and a view. Paradoxically, a certain disorder helps me travel into the dark place where I keep my stories. Unwanted thoughts travel the music, coffee is not only fuel but also a taste, and movement provides visual occupation while my mind is elsewhere. Writers who love cafés do not necessarily need an audience that spurs them into action; they may simply be overactive.
The traditional view of writing is that you sit down at your pulpit in a quiet room. I certainly don’t require Virginia Wolf’s room of one’s own with key and lock, but a room with a view.* An orderly desk facing a blank wall does not give me peace and focus, but claustrophobia. As a child I was given a desk where I was supposed to do my homework, but I always ended up in the cozy kitchen or the busy living room, wherever there was life.
Oh my gods. That is an amazing picture! Who took it?
A pink Panasonic Lumix with a self timer.