Blank Space

The idea of a bedroom seems so basic. Other than the obvious, maybe it’s the place where you sleep at inappropriate times of the day, eat peanut butter out of the jar (a key indicator of one’s relationship status), or hide when you have had enough human interaction for one day. The spaces we surround ourselves with, just like the company we keep, say a lot about our personality, style, and interests. They can also influence our productivity and mood in ways we may not even be conscious of. We’ve applied this logic to stores, offices, and classrooms so why not parlay the same philosophy to our homes? Personalizing your room might not make you anymore of a morning person or cause you to feel anymore passionately about organizing financial statements but at least it will give you something pretty to look at as you press snooze for the fifth time.

Whenever I move into a new space or go home after a long period of time, I set out to create or re-create my space and design a room that will entertain, comfort, and energize me. Rules that apply to this space? NO: interrogation style lighting, hot pink or any variations of the color, or posters with real people (my apologies JBeibs, you’re still very pretty). When I first stepped foot into my new room this past August, the urge to move furniture far exceeded my mother’s shrill voice telling me not to scratch the floors. In its current state, the room was difficult to navigate, oddly assembled, and filled with opportunities for gravity to take advantage of my uncoordinated extremities. In an attempt to lower my parent’s insurance deductible, I moved all the furniture to the outer corners of the room, causing the room to feel more open and less like Harry Potter’s stairwell closet.

Next, I took on the walls. Last year, my walls were covered in pictures and random cat postcards my mom sends me out of love and, on Valentines Day, sympathy. However, this year, walking into a totally new home, the space didn’t say, “Paint me like one of your French girls”. Instead, it said, “Do me a favor and accentuate my natural features,” and that’s what I did. On the wall just above my bed, there’s a small shelf. Because of its central position in the room, I crafted the area into a shrine of sorts; a note to self to occasionally calm the f*** down. Crafted from a combination of plants (that, at the mercy of my black thumb, volunteered themselves as tribute), lights, jars, rocks, and bottles, the shelf is a living representation of balance and serenity. In the mornings, the plants reverberate with energy and at night, the tea lights filter through the colored glass of the bottles, adding another dimension to the room. It’s the tangibility of the shelf, and of the room in general, that makes me so satisfied; the fact that after a long day of nonstop activity, I can return to this space and its feeling of equilibrium. In this space, I control the energy, who comes in, how its organized, and what I do there. My closet is color coordinated and sectioned off by style. My yoga mat and the medicine ball I never use are placed strategically behind the door. Tacked to the bulletin board above my desk are an assortment of personal projects I like to continually work on and show some love to. On top of my bureau there’s a mix of makeup, jewelry, vitamins, perfume and other items I let run wild because, there, clutter and disorganization seem more inspired than stressful. And then, there are the little details, the cherries on top. Sometimes, that means lighting a candle and changing the scent of the room to vanilla or cedar. Other times, its turning on my Oh Wonder station on Pandora (When the heck did this go out of style? Please send help and moral support). Its all about how I want to feel and the experience I want to create for myself. So give me a blank space any dang day. I’ll be sure to write my name.