Synchronicity Always Strikes the Same Place Thrice

If, as Holbrook Jackson maintains, your library is your portrait, then surely your public library loans are your latest snapshot.

My list of current loans reflects my recent fascinations with tea (social, cultural, historical, comestible), simplicity, Jane Austen’s times (tea and crime) and Victorian-era New Zealand (mostly crime). I also have books on undertaking and rhetoric, which simply caught my eye as I browsed.

Jean Siméon Chardin - Woman Taking Tea - WGA04749

I expected to see wabi-sabi mentioned in the book on the Japanese tea ceremony and it seemed natural to encounter it in one of the books on simplicity. But when it popped up for the third time in the book about modern Canadian undertaking, I was surprised.

My favourite of the three encounters is the essay ‘Wabi-Sabi Time’ by Robyn Griggs Lawrence; in the book Less is More, edited by Cecile Andrews and Wanda Urbanska.
Wabi being notoriously hard to define, she gives a variety of descriptions, including “a little monk in his torn robe, enjoying a night by the fire – content in poverty.”

Habito de s francisco

Sabi is a bit easier to define: it refers to the effect of the passing of time (literally: rust).
Together, the words wabi-sabi conjure a sense of imperfect beauty, tarnished with time, but valued all the more for its age and imperfections.

“Wabibitos live modestly, satisfied with things as they are. They own only what’s necessary for its utility or beauty (ideally, both). They revere humans over machines, surrounding themselves with things that resonate with the spirit of their makers. Wabi-sabi is imperfect: a beloved chipped vase or a scarred wooden table… It’s like going to Grandma’s house.

“Our Depression-era grandmothers knew wabi-sabi. And their houses were so comfortable because they understood, inherently, the difference between wabi [or possibly sabi -DM] and sloppy. Their tablecloths and linens were faded, but they never had rips or tears. Their furnishings had a settled-in quality, but they weren’t dilapidated. Their floors showed wear, but they were always swept, with rag-rugs that wove together memories in their use of old garments.” (Less is More p.160).

Ghanaian Broom

I don’t know about you, but that strikes me as a pretty good way to live. Banish perfection, or the illusion of perfection for which we strive; banish the cheap (or expensive) tat which is heading for planned obsolescence, or never had a purpose to begin with. Have little, but take joy in the little you have.

Beauty. Simplicity. Usefulness. Mmm.

Have you been surprised by synchronicity lately? What’s your take on wabi-sabi, or similar concepts? And what do your library books say about you?

What’s On Your Desk?

Whether we like it or not, people make judgements about others based on appearances – including the appearance of their work space. Too messy and you’re condemned as disorganized and inefficient; but on the other hand, as Albert Einstein said, “If a cluttered desk signs a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?” But then, one person’s neat is another’s messy.
Many of us are drawn to the ascetic simplicity of a desk like this:

Shaker student desk

but unless that book is about the only thing you use while sitting at that desk – or possibly the only thing you own – chances are it’s not going to stay that neat for long. Exquisite, but simply impractical for a ‘working’ desk, unless you have lots of time and an iron discipline when it comes to Putting Things Away.

Actually, one of the things I like best about my desk is that I don’t have to put everything away for meals – unlike when I used a corner of the dining table. I can just put down my pen and go off for lunch, then pick up the pen and carry on where I left off when I get back.

On the other hand, I’d like to think that my desk isn’t (and hopefully never will be) as bad as this one (I’m not even sure that there is a desk under all that):

Mattheus van Hellemont The Alchemist

Happily, my desk has quite a large surface area, so takes a lot before it looks cluttered. I have a bit over one square metre (that’s just over 11 square feet for the imperialists) and that’s before I pull out the two flat boards housed above the drawers and cupboard. (Anyone know what those are called?)

At any given time, my desk top will likely have the following sitting on it:

  • the current WIP exercise book (Tsifira vol. 4)
  • my favourite fountain pen (filled with purple ink)
  • notebook (tracking page count, ink refills etc)
  • chess board (mapping the WIP plot)
  • a picture of a young Amelia Earhart (how I imagine Tsifira looks)
  • notes (of various sorts, on assorted scraps of paper)
  • tea paraphernalia (teapot, strainer, cup & saucer)

Watrous-the-red-portfolio

  • my skeleton-case mechanical watch (or I’d lose track of time)
  • a wooden box with a perpetual calendar on the lid (ditto date)
  • a Royal Worcester porcelain treasure box (an engagement gift)
  • a teapot-shaped china box (a farewell gift from a former colleague at the DDJ) filled with mints
  • a box of matches (I’m not a smoker, I swear!)
  • the old candle lamp (I told you I wasn’t a smoker)
  • a glass vase (amber like the candle lampshade) with an arrangement of foliage (it’s autumn)
  • a tiny Hun from a Kinder Surprise egg (why not?)
  • a small painting of Pskovo-Pechersky Monastery (a 21st gift)

But not a computer. Not until the rewrite, at least.

What’s on your desk? What does your desk say about you? And dare I ask, what do you think my desk says about me?