A room of my own

 

Published in 1929, Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One's Own is a important work of feminist writing. Woolf’s essay examines the educational, social and financial disadvantages women have faced throughout history.  It contains Woolf’s famous argument that, ‘A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction’. I have a fondness for this book because my college boyfriend, P, gave it to me when I moved into the university dormitory. I was 'officially' starting out on my own; well sort of,  as my parents paid my way in college. But I was taking an important step in my development into a grown woman.

Four decades later, I still am drawing lessons from this book. 

Recently, I have gone through a creative blossoming; reclaiming my love of painting. But I was trying to work with paints, etc on my cramped desk space. I was making a mess of my computer and desk and I did not have space for my tools. This is not how an artist works. And I am an artist. I needed a real studio space. 

Now, I had a dining area that was mainly being used for coffee, morning internet scrolling, mail and medication/supplement storage. I had wanted to make that space an art corner for myself ever since I moved here 21 years ago. But my mom insisted that I needed a proper dining table, however small. Where would I serve guests at dinner parties? Where would I eat? It is the civilized thing to have. So, I caved in to her dictate of how a proper adult woman should live. But the truth is, I have never thrown a dinner party here, nor do I want to. And I eat all over the house, lol. That is not important to me.

So, I got rid of my table area and got a six foot utility table and I created an art space. It is rudimentary at this point. I use my parent's china cabinet to store art supplies. (Sorry mom) I have an easel and I invested in paints, canvases and paper. This is an unglamorous photo of the space I have carved out for myself. I am still working on it.  Like Virginia Woolf, I too believe a woman needs money and space to practice her art. I do believe my mom forgives my etiquette lapse and that she is happy for me. Now that she is in the spirit realm, I think she sees the bigger picture and  just wants me to live my own version of an authentic life. Her 'hija' makes art, not dinner parties. And I am thrilled with my uncivilized home that lacks a dining area. 

This is a detail of a larger self portrait. It captures the shy, self conscious baby lesbian I was in the mid 1980's, spending the night in a tent with her crush, CW. We snapped pictures of each other and I found this one of me she took. I look back at my younger self with tenderness and acceptance. It was included in an exhibition put on by the Broward County Art Guild.