The vast majority of Cambodian people, especially those outside the capital Phnom Penh, have very little education, and where people are educated the culture is not motivated towards creativity or sophistication. The people, however, are extremely friendly, affectionate, family-oriented and generous.

Artists here are closer to what in the west we would call craftsmen, closer to a spirit of professionalism or vocation about their work than to a spirit of freedom of expression (although in the few urban centres this is changing slowly). And when life is tough, and day to day choices are being made about how the family is to feed itself, very few have the room of their own to even consider what we view as the right of the artist, to dream and to create.

The anguish that we may feel as artists, the need to create despite difficult circumstances and how much easier it would be if things were easier … well, everybody struggles. Just in different ways. When our backgrounds, influences and situations are broader and create more opportunties, we create more anxiety and demand more. In the villages people have their roles, their places, their families, and while it may be a hard life it has a peace about it that westerners can only dream about.

Our lives create our own rooms, whether we are seeking doors to open or doors to close.

I look forward to hearing more of your impressions of SEA – it’s a magic place.

The vast majority of Cambodian people, especially those outside the capital Phnom Penh, have very little education, and where people are educated the culture is not motivated towards creativity or sophistication. The people, however, are extremely friendly, affectionate, family-oriented and generous.

Artists here are closer to what in the west we would call craftsmen, closer to a spirit of professionalism or vocation about their work than to a spirit of freedom of expression (although in the few urban centres this is changing slowly). And when life is tough, and day to day choices are being made about how the family is to feed itself, very few have the room of their own to even consider what we view as the right of the artist, to dream and to create.

The anguish that we may feel as artists, the need to create despite difficult circumstances and how much easier it would be if things were easier … well, everybody struggles. Just in different ways. When our backgrounds, influences and situations are broader and create more opportunties, we create more anxiety and demand more. In the villages people have their roles, their places, their families, and while it may be a hard life it has a peace about it that westerners can only dream about.

Our lives create our own rooms, whether we are seeking doors to open or doors to close.

I look forward to hearing more of your impressions of SEA – it’s a magic place.

I think your point is in your fifth paragraph to the end. I think it is important too. We writers, we discussers of prose, we Americans, or at least we who live in America, have extreme privilage, whether you are a poet or not. We are fortunate that we have all the paper and pens we ever need.

Most of the world’s humans do not have a room of their own. To be somewhat cliche (accent on the e), in many ways it comes down to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. We are safe and secure, one cannot look through our homes, we have doors (with locks even). We don’t face any existential threat, so yeah, we can cultivate ourselves, write, paint, do yoga, really whatever we feel like.

I have a quesiton. Is the “room” no longer relevant? 2010 is not the same as 1929, as far as what Woolf was speaking about, is it? Do (most) American women have rooms of their own if they so desire?

And the guilt you have is healthy. Thanks for the post.

I think your point is in your fifth paragraph to the end. I think it is important too. We writers, we discussers of prose, we Americans, or at least we who live in America, have extreme privilage, whether you are a poet or not. We are fortunate that we have all the paper and pens we ever need.

Most of the world’s humans do not have a room of their own. To be somewhat cliche (accent on the e), in many ways it comes down to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. We are safe and secure, one cannot look through our homes, we have doors (with locks even). We don’t face any existential threat, so yeah, we can cultivate ourselves, write, paint, do yoga, really whatever we feel like.

I have a quesiton. Is the “room” no longer relevant? 2010 is not the same as 1929, as far as what Woolf was speaking about, is it? Do (most) American women have rooms of their own if they so desire?

And the guilt you have is healthy. Thanks for the post.