My working desk is often a kitchen table, sometimes a cafe table and rarely an actual desk. But what stays, what absolutely has to be next to me when I write, is this picture of Truman Capote as taken by Henri Cartier-Bresson:
It's an iconic image, one that I first saw a month ago at the Lucca Centre of Contemporary Art. It was a lovingly compiled retrospective devoted to Cartier-Bresson's American work that, quite frankly, blew me away like no other exhibition in recent memory. From Igor Stravinsky fondling a dog to the two nuns contemplating Matisse to a small black girl in a white dress, this was black and white photography with an edge. And while I was dizzy halfway through, the image of young Truman Capote provided the final punch.
There are many things for which I love this image, but really it's all about the way Capote stares at you. It's a look of apprehension, defiance, slight unease. There is a hint of that Kubrick stare about the whole thing but it's too elusive to grasp.
And this image moves. Every day, it puts me into my writing mood regardless of a desk or a table I may be writing on.
