by Jennie Mc Donald

Created on: February 11, 2009   Last Updated: February 17, 2009

As a single parent studying for a degree in Arts my circumstance tend to dictate when and where I get the opportunity to write. On a daily basis I travel two hundred and forty kilometres just to get to and from college, therefore my schedule is quite hectic. Consequently, it is the case that most of my writing takes place during the late hours of the night or at weekends, as there is no time during my days. My work space has been developed by myself over a number of years.

Originally I worked within the confinements of a small, clustered and dreary room which resulted in a lost of inspiration and inhibited my artistic side. Now my workspace is contained within my kitchen simply because it is cosy, warm and inviting which I find is conducive to my work. It consists of a large wooden desk and numerous shelves, all of which are overloaded with six years of materials and research. Upon the desk stands a large, obtrusive, old style computer which like me has seen better days.

Once flawless, bright and vivid white, it is now a dull, yellowed and in many ways, a temperamental old friend. Together we have spent many a late night burning the midnight oil. Right next to it on the desk lies a brand new laptop; a Christmas gift from a friend. However, I continuously find myself returning to the old reliable, as despite all the coffee spills, the odd drop of cigarette ash and the hammering of the keys, it refuses to let me down.

The inspirational aspect of my workspace is undoubtedly my large, swivel, black leather chair. After a tiresome long and stressful day, sitting on the uncomfortable, hard and uninviting college seats, my large executive style chair becomes my throne. When the body is tired and the mind refuses to function, I lie back in my chair allowing my mind to drift to earlier times. Spinning round and round, I recall memories of my childhood days and many an hour spent on the roundabout in the park; immersed in the recollections of the freedom this invoked. Subsequently this frees my mind and thoughts, leaving me uninhibited and unrestrained by the challenges of adulthood, and allowing me to regain the innocence of childhood, hence awakening my imaginative side, allowing me to write freely.

On the other hand, unlike the organised uninterrupted late nights, the weekend brings with it a welcoming disorganised frenzy. It explodes with the laughter of children, the banging of doors, doorbells ringing, phones going off, the pounding of footsteps on the stairs, the humming of the fridge, the spinning of the drum in the washing machine and the unmistakable screams calling mam'. This mayhem provides a welcoming release from the weekly routine, infusing my work with an explosion of life. Some may find this type of atmosphere creates greater distractions, however, I find it releases me from my usual routine which can often be quiet lonesome. I find this inspiring and invigorating, thus enhancing my writing capabilities.

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