In one corner, you see our desks, which we painstakingly dragged out of the bedroom. I spend the majority of my waking hours in the apartment seated at my desk. Facing the windows, I have quite good light until the sun starts to set and I have to slant the blinds upward to retain my vision. Because we have a basement apartment, our windows give us a smashing view of the bumpers of the cars in the parking lot.
A veeery large window. You can see our coffee-table turned dining-table, complete with floor pillows on which to sit. And a random wire rack, which holds pillows and occasionally cakes. And my rack of pointe shoes. Moving on.
Facing the big window is our bookshelf, the largest furniture item to come into the apartment and, after the desks, the most-used. As you can see, the two of us have nearly filled two of the three shelves with books for BSI. Proud. Bookish. Happy to have a bookshelf.
We just need some bamboo shots and maybe one of those portable rock gardens. It is both dinner table and Zen corner, and you can see my copy of John Ackerman‘s study on Dylan Thomas next to a deflated chess board.