I'll paint a picture of my desk with words.
Think of a table with a fairly large Craftsman tool box stuffed to the top with assorted hair, feathers, dubbing, foam popper bodies, thread, bobbins and other things that I have probably forgotten are in there but were must have necessities at the time I bought them. Each of these precious items is tucked in a neat plastic zip lock bag and lovingly placed in the tool box. Or, as my wife says, junk thrown into a box.
Now, my tying desk is our coffee table in the patio sun room. When I'm not tying, it is neat, straight, and "wife approved". When I'm tying, the wifely comments range from "smells like mothballs in here" to "when are you going to clean that mess up". In other words, it is not wifely approved.
Fortunately, my wife understands (read believes) that I save a bundle of money tying my own flies. Since she sometimes reads over my shoulder, let's not say anything that would cause her to think otherwise.
I do try to root through my box and get out the stuff I need for the flies I plan to tie that evening. However, I have the attentions span of a 2 year old so whatever I started tying, usually ends up being something else so there are neat zip lock bags of feathers, hair, dubbing, popper bodies, and other assorted things that I thought were necessities when I bought them strewn all over the coffee table, couch, floor and every other horizontal surface within arm's reach of my vice.
I guess I could take a photo but I'm sure if you read the above three paragraphs, close your eyes, you can pretty much see what my tying desk looks like.