An Ode to
The Desk

Notes, Nov 29


Frida Kahlo’s Desk at her home studio

We all need a little corner in this world where we can communicate with our deepest imaginations in order to produce something meaningful. Maybe your creative potential is at its highest when you are running or when you are watching the city skyline with a glass of wine. Perhaps you absorb the world while sitting in a bus/train/metro surrounded by other people. Or your finding stories in the night, just you alone, pretending to be someone else entering that famous jazz bar in your city. No matter how you come up with your best ideas, at one point you'll need so sit down in one specific place and paint/create/write that everything down. What follows are notes for the very spiritual moment of you building a new world from your thoughts.

Frida Kahlo’s Work station at her home studio

The desk is a place for a special soberness of the mind that is making a bond with a higher purpose. Through the silence of doing our work we are swimming in our own consciousness. Not only that we are working on our recent project, but we are also building an inner foundation for the next one. So every time we sit to create something is like a house being built. And the maintenance of the house can never be finished as there is always something else that needs to be done, a little chore that is hanging in our minds and needs to be explored or fixed. And we are coming back to this home every time we reopen the page/stroke/vector that we closed the last time. Every time when we hear the siren of our thoughts, we are ready to play with it. The desk worker is like the spider on the wall that we are noticing with our peripheral vision, sitting in their own web, trying to catch a good fly/thought.

It’s a safe place for creative thought. Everything can be said with no one to blame you, simply because you are fooling around in your own universe. The space for freedom. It’s living in a different time when the thoughts of the past imagine its potential in the future. And then it dies. The desk is a very lonely place. A "lost in the woods" kind of lonely. It’s scary but look around; everything is so tall, so bigger than you that makes you bow down with respect. The high trees that stretch through the vertical horizon are the ideal work we want to succeed. Scary to look at, intimidating, hard to reach, but very good companions. It’s uncomfortable. Feeling that we always need to stretch our bodies together with our minds. It’s static, but from one point of view we can see the endless possibilities of our intimate world.

Leon Trotsky’s Desk at his Mexico City home

There are too few settings that desk workers enjoy. The sun can tremble meditatively, or it can be raining cats and dogs out there. It could be the drums, the outer sounds, the couple that always fights, or the murderous silence that tells you that nothing is happening. Never mind what is around you, because the main thing is observing ourselves and how we are growing in secret in order to became loud.

Next Notes

In Praise of Stacking Books



Subscribe to our


︎            ︎            ︎

© 2018 The Stories: Revisited