Woman at her writing table
Lesser Ury (German, 1861 - 1931)
Picture source: Wikimedia
"The happiest of all lives is a busy solitude." - Voltaire
A busy solitude? Yes, but a little too "busy" for me! This woman looks intense -- her body tilting forward from the waist, head and neck even further inclined, shoulders scrunched up, her hand gripping the pen tightly with a fist held close to her body. Even the chair seems to be tipped forward, and its arms appear to be making a vain attempt to hold the woman back as she leans toward the letter she's writing. Even her neat upswept hairstyle, as pretty as it is, gives the impression that she is a particularly tidy woman who dresses for others. In other words, this dark and cozy interior isn't a place where she usually spends time alone. She looks more like an extrovert than an introvert. One can easily imagine her standing by that piano listening intently to her daughter or son practicing. But one can't imagine her: piling that desk with books that never go away, allowing dust to ever be seen in there, letting the room become cluttered with miscellanea she just might need to consult or use in some other way (perhaps just as inspiration), reading out of great curiosity or reading anything longer than a magazine article, or leaning back thinking without doing anything else at all, or spending time just staring out the window letting the thoughts pour in.
I would guess that any time she spent at that desk would be devoted to paying the bills and writing necessary letters to "Mother" and "Aunt Jane" to let them know what the family has been doing.
This seems to be an admirable woman. I'm sure she's a delightful wife and a very competent mother and a faithful friend. I'm glad there are people like her. But, oh what a waste of a cozy-looking interior space that would be such a sweet library and refuge for someone who loves solitude.
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