Mentalechoes

I've built an office in my flat in what should be the small dining room, but since I am not the kind of person that throws chic dinner parties - my tastes for entertanment have always been much more exotic bohemian - it's always been my internet computer room. A chick friend took me to Ikea a few weeks back (I did my best to avoid the kitchenware section, but we ended up there for half an hour anyway, and on a friday night of all times, so I now consider myself officially "middle aged"), and I bought a massive big commercial office desk. Surprisingly there was almost no pain putting it together, thanks to the chick who has furniture building skills any carpenter would have been impressed with, and now I sit at a desk facing a large window view of the outside world.

My flat is on the second floor. When the office window curtains are open, the world can look in and see me, as easily as I can see the world outside. For the first couple of weeks, I used to sit at my desk with the curtains closed. I wasn't comfortable having them open when I would sit down there, no matter what time of the day or night it was. I can't really articulate in words why I felt like that either. I guess I just didn't like the feeling of strangers looking at me when I was doing something deeply personal, like sitting in front of my computers. It's not that I have something to hide, but there is an intimate world behind the screen that I get sucked into, and it's not something I share.

Today however, for the first time, I was sitting here, at my desk, in the late afternoon, with the curtains open. The sun was glowing bright orange and shining through the thinning branches of the trees across the street. Each of the branches becoming more bare with each passing day as their leaves turn light brown, then dark brown eventually falling to the ground. People were strolling through the falling leaves; some walking dogs; some walking kids; some walking hand in hand; and some walking alone, yet all of them walking through the falling leaves. There was a serenity in that moving moment of scenery that was beautifully accompanied by some silky smooth lounge tunes from my favourite radio station ETN.FM in the background.

I realised at that moment, that my beautiful view was not just about what was in front of me, but also being a part of it. To see something, and in turn being seen, makes you part of the canvas that is the picture of the world.

I've not closed my curtains since then.

Padwanna!