our room

this room is our haven. it is large and light, we have an enormous table, to work on; there are trees all around: it feels like an aviary! the pigeons murmur loving lullabies, the crows tell us endless stories and eat all the bread and butter, all the scraps i leave for them on the balcony; they don't even move when i stand right next to them.

Their feathers are black, glossy with a blueish sheen, but around their neck they are grey and neat and they sometimes look like the smartly dressed lawyers we see around the Fort area, coming for lunch in the restaurants we frequent. they are also as adversarial, i like to think. but they always call the other crows and won't eat until their brothers and sisters have arrived and sit in the branches of the trees, then onto the scaffolding which is for some reason still all around our building( since several years now) and finally come and eat my offerings.

Then there are the vividly green parrots who screech and come in angular troupes, liquidly moving from branch to branch, to end up sitting right next to our window, on the side of the room where the trees actually touch the wood, and start to kiss and groom each other. inside the room it already looks like home, with all the papers, books, pens and brushes and photos, and colourful textiles-the things we collect and spread around almost as soon as we land somewhere.