A Room, But Whose?

Cluttered might be too strong a word for this room, it was most definitely lived in and very much loved.   

Windows on three walls, would that be triple aspect?

Just inside the door a wooden umbrella stand, filled with manly black umbrellas, and antique walking sticks. A walking stick of black ebony, white cream ivory tusks and glass eyes. An ivory stick handled cane is shaped like a dog’s head, is both attractive and functional as a whistle.

Along the wall with the door, full-length shelves run from door to the corner. The shelves are bowing under the weight of the many books, ranging from sturdy leather bound tomes to modern cheap paperbacks.

Looking closer the shelves contained not only books but other trinkets and treasures evidence if any was needed that the owner of this room was well travelled. Models of the great wonders of the world and landmarks. The Eiffel tower, the statue of liberty and the Sydney opera house rubbed shoulders with a London bus, welsh love spoon and a large pine cone.

Moving onto the window wall, more shelves smaller this time, containing religious items, not just Christian, but others too.  

An exquisite hand carved wooden cross, a shape of Jesus, just visible, like a lingering shadow of something that once was.

A Russian Orthodox icon, once bright colours now faded, paint peeling.

A smiling Buddha, resplendent in gold.

A model of the Ka'bah, a black and golden cube housed in a glass case.

A figurine of Vishnu, the goddesses for hands all posed in different ways. Her golden headdress trimmed with peacock tail feathers and purple flower at her feet.

An Embroidered Kippah, in black velvet, decorated Star of Davids and Hanukiah.

A small prayer wheel, lay at the edge, looking like one tap could send it flying.

A Khanda, an all metal double edged blade, propped up against the wall, the blades dull, not functional, the grip expertly turned, decorated with orange cords.

Hanging from the end of the shelf a Chinese Lion puppet. Its body turquoise and pink, white frills and large yellow eyes, make it comedic rather than scary.

Below the shelves a large metal desk, old fashioned and cumbersome looking. Its grey paintwork wouldn't have looked out of place on the hull of a battleship. Its desktop littered with papers, books, pens and single photograph of a small child sat in an old-fashioned silver cross type pram, a tabby cat on the hood. A diary lays open on today's date, a red ribbon and a pen on the page. A cup of cold tea lurks next to the pen pot filled with useful pens stationery items and a long white feather. A small clear tub of paper clips lays on its side.

A Computer in the corner, it's monitored topped with a stretched out sleeping black cat.

On the windowsill behind the computer, large factory shuttles arranged with a lack of due care, but still an artistic appeal.  The view of the garden beyond could only be an inspiration to whoever used the desk.

A brown leather office chair slightly dog-eared and worn, cats scratch marks on the back. Draped over the back of the chair a black cape.

Moving around, two small windows on this wall, one either end. A Hanukiah in need of a dust off, and a new candle as one is missing, its others slightly wonky from melting in the sun. On the other small fisherman's anchor, its rope hanging down to the floor.

More shelves on this wall, models of ships and photographs intermingle with stacked books. Interesting articles used as bookends, a bell, a wheel spanner, a large shell, a bottle of rum, a black wooden bear among other things. By far the best a set of masthead lights, that work illuminating various parts of the room in white, green or red light.

The last wall has a large window overlooking the front, with a large green pond yacht filling the window. This wall is different from the others as it has no shelves. A large world map dominates the wall, surrounded by photographs of ships, and people. A brightly coloured set of Tibetan prayer flags hangs above the map. Beneath the map a red velvet chaise lounge, a couple of scatter cushions stacked awkwardly in the corner. Tucked under the arm of the Chaise lounge, an overflowing paper bin waits desperately to be emptied.

The floor of this room is tiled in grey. Covering the tiles and providing some warmth a Persian rug in muted shades, it's tassels somewhat worn. In the centre of the rug, another black cat chases an elastic band.

If you laid back on the chaise lounge, the afternoon sun streams through the window from the garden warming your skin.  Close your eyes, and a mixture of smells will tease your nostrils. A mix of old leather, polish, and books, but above these a sweeter, floral type smell so hard to define and yet to some so recognisable.