Word: workroom
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...sword that once belonged to the Palestinian's father. "Have you ever tried to take a sword through security in the Middle East?" Le Carre asks with a chuckle. After much negotiation, the pilot agreed to carry the sword in the cockpit. It now rests in the novelist's workroom -- a reminder of affection from one of Le Carre's People...
...Using money he earned from Empire of the Sun, he commissioned an artist to re-create two paintings by the Belgian Paul Delvaux that had been destroyed in London during the Blitz. One of these large canvases sits in Ballard's front parlor, and the other presides over his workroom, an unsettling tableau of dream maidens and bare breasts in an otherwise comfortable setting. "Sadly," Ballard says, "the only surrealists around these days are psychopaths. But we all need to fight off the growing suburbanization of the soul. I want to see the sane become surrealists...
...induces daily doses of therapeutic distress by getting down to work with the dawn. "Tell me," he challenges, "what other composers get up at 5 in the morning?" Morricone does not use his regal Steinway grand for composition, but sits over his score paper at a desk in his workroom. The room, kept locked against the incursions of four children, ages 20 to 30, who still come by and "steal my records," also accommodates a broken 17th century organ, a functioning studio-size recording console, piles of music books and tapes, and a secret desk drawer filled with soap filched...
Divorced nine years ago and still single, Kamali rarely goes to parties or socializes, and spends most of her time in the basement workroom of her midtown Manhattan store. She lives next door to her shop with a miniature dachshund, Ernie, in a small, one-bedroom converted marble showroom. Though the name of her shop-OMO, for On My Own-has a militant ring, Kamali is not an ardent feminist. (The first business she shared with her husband was called Kamali, and to break clean with the past she settled on the name OMO for her sleek, new, triple-level...
...dressmakers' workroom is a small L-shaped area on the fourth floor of a dilapidated building in downtown Los Angeles. Tattered sheets drape the dirt-streaked windows. Seven seamstresses, ages 18 to 45 and all from Latin America, sit in a tight row, huddled over their humming machines, monitored by a stocky Hispanic woman with a shock of bright orange-red hair. On a nearby desk rests a broken time clock. The workers were not paid last week; they may not be paid this week. The boss will pay them when she has the money. Mañana. Perhaps...