Like many art practitioners across cultures and over generations, I have been working in my studio. A room has served the function of essential studio space, a space where one could paint, write, read, chant, meditate or do nothing. The notion of “a room of one’s own” brought forth by the English writer Virginia Woolf (1882–1941) in the 1920s has since been a c¬ommon goal among many practitioners in the arts, women in particular. This continues to the present days. As an artist, I too have been working in my room. In this article I aim to illustr¬ate how my practice is akin to some women in the West, Paris in particular, at the turn of the twentieth century in the longing for one’s private space. Yet this article explores the notion of private space in other, less obvious ways. I also wish to show how some women in a remote part of China, in their own rooms, through the exclusive practice of nüshu, a set of near–extinct and “secret” writing script, echoed the significance of having their own platform, a creative space in which they could excel. I will further demonstrate how through appropriating with some Chinese language having a “female” ideograph and nüshu script, my drawing acts as a strategy, suggesting that the “edge” of culture could speak. In addition, it attempts to “practice that difference” advocated by the French philosopher Luce Irigaray (1939–). Having worked and exhibited in various spaces, I have realized that a room for executing and displaying is a transitional tool.