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4.28.2011

the room, following the (non) move.


smooshed bed

my front porch

mug and journal

magic carpet



somehow a headboard seemed important before. a crown for the bed--a talisman of something grown-up, adulthood, if you will.

the bed is smooshed against the wall now. no headboard. up and off to the right hangs my framed casablanca poster, placed there because there was already a nail and so, why not? and somehow this somewhat careless arrangement works. seems just as it should.


i wasn't terribly careful arranging this space. i pushed my bed into the one corner, the bookshelf into the other, placed the dresser against the not-to-be-used-french-doors, and stuck my desk just where i knew it would go: between the windows. as for my reading chair? it swims in this space and i wouldn't have it any other way. i pull it this way for mornings and push it that way for late evenings and let it rest between bookshelf and door for much of the rest.

as i sit here typing this a mug sits on the ledge of the window next to my bound leather journal that tells the story of the end of high school into the much of my first year at college. i've been going through it of late. marveling at the pure drivel that is most of it and sending up multitudinous prayers that no one ever finds it. in reading it so much feels familiar, cyclical to life now. this is...humbling, to say the least. because i feel like a different person. am i not? am i the same as i ever was? eighteen all over again?

i don't think so. some thoughts and feelings are bound to reverberate for much of my life, but i feel like i've come out of some period of darkness transformed.

this transformation is its own struggle, or, well, challenge. i feel new. and different. and while at times exhilarating, this newness is also terrifying. here i am, twenty-five forced to reacquaint myself with the world and my surroundings as a changed person.

the thing is, in this new room, it all feels possible. is it possible for something to be more than you ever imagined? is it possible that i know this already? that the space is charged. holy, even. i swing the double doors open, i pull up all the blinds, i open the windows, i watch the river. i press my feet into the patterned wood floor. and this, all of this, makes the A train bearable. the neighbors are slowly learning my name and i am slowly making friends with their dogs. the coffee shop is still on the corner, an irish pub is opening across the street, and the trees are in bloom, pink against the palisades. slowly, i'm coming round to this life in new york. slowly i'm forgiving myself. for feeling like i've not done enough-- come far enough. slowly i'm learning the only person i have to reckon with is myself. slowly i'm persisting, making goals, learning to say yes. inch by inch there is life in this room, in this neighborhood, in the city, in myself.

yes, slowly there is life. and i am in love with it.

26 comments:

nicole addison said...

:) beautiful.

becky said...

That last paragraph is absolute perfection---really, it is. I so often feel like I am not doing enough in my life. I feel like I haven't grown and that I'm immature, stuck in a kind of rut that I'm not sure how to get out of---or worse than that, maybe I am too comfortable being there in the first place? At 21, I am living with my parents and I am in the country---and I so often feel like I haven't lived. Never in a big exciting city or on a travelling, revolving adventure. But maybe, just maybe, those things are not me. Maybe the simple life is and that is the way I lead it. Every day I am getting a little braver---and I feel it, I feel it in my bones. And that, partly, is down to you. Down to you and the way you open up and the way you exhibit your bravery: a badge across the heart. So few people are half as inspiring as you are---because you are teaching me everyday that it isn't where I am or what I do---it's who I am, inside. It's where my heart lies and the emotions and the feelings that pulse in veins. It's the bliss we yearn for in ourselves. So thank-you for that.

karajean said...

How rare it is when something is more than we ever imagined. And that makes it so much better, don't you think?

Chelsea Talks Smack said...

you really have a beautiful space darling.

Alex said...

You always manage to put into words the thoughts that swim around in my head.

P.S. I obsess over your reading chair every time I see a picture of it.

The Mister and The Missus said...

Those french doors are to die for! love it.

Jennifer Rod said...

love this post so much. i love the way you ended it and im so happy for you, for the place you found, for the way you've come out transformed from the dark times and for the fact that you have that little journal to go back to and discover how much you have done and accomplished. beautiful. and btw, your apartment is so welcoming. you've done a great job. :)

Jay said...

the new apartment looks great and o hope you'll thrive there! i also guess that makes you a hero then ;)

Toyin O. said...

Glad you are growing and loving life; love those pictures:)

Jenni Austria Germany said...

oooh i love your room.

and i love it when there's already a nail in the wall!

Jo said...

i love this. every bit of it resonates with me. i'm in the process of forgiving myself, too. and hoping that forgiveness helps perpetuate more forward movement. in the meantime, being in love with life is a wonderful place to be! hooray for living in the moment! and speaking of which, i hope you're having a happy friday!
xox

jill said...

you make me want to redecorate. or do something new and different to recharge the energy that seems to be taking an early summer break, because I just can't find it at this moment.

Love your chair pillow!

viktorija said...

1. LOVE your apartment. It reminds me of mine, all aged and quirky and sunlit.

2. Am coveting your rug. Its bright colors make me happy, but my crazy white cat would shed 5 lbs. of fur on it ever single day, causing me to vacuum every single day, and ugh. No.

3. Your post was excellent. Reminds me some stuff I was thinking about yesterday. You have a wonderful way w/words!

Kate said...

I'm extremely jealous of your french doors and reading chair. I'm so glad that you're coming to a good place. :)

CraftieTheatreGirlSarah said...

You're room looks perfect! I can only hope to have such a serene space to enjoy every day.

Maria said...

I love the rug, and the chair. So pretty.

Sara L. said...

Pretty room!! I love the door with the glass windows :)

The Many Colours of Happiness said...

You have such a gorgeous space!! I am so glad to read this, it has been amazing following you on this blog and seeing you really starting to live. You are such an inspiration.

Platypodian said...

Love the room!

Ash said...

So wise. Especially this: " slowly i'm forgiving myself. for feeling like i've not done enough-- come far enough. slowly i'm learning the only person i have to reckon with is myself"

Little Tree Vintage said...

I too feel enormous transformation especially when reading journals from the past. we are forever changing creatures and I believe that that is the beautiful part of our nature, we can grow and mold and be whatever or whomever we want

Anonymous said...

Nice post.

The Lewicutt's est 2006 said...

Wow, so funny. I spent nearly my entire day yesterday re-examining my past to figure out why I'm so afraid to say what I want and go for it...

I've been too terrified to open up the journal that I used to keep and just... read. I'm an entirely different person, and I'm afraid of the old me....

angela hardison said...

it looks beautiful. i love the light.

Ana* said...

these photos are beautiful and so is the whole post. I love how you ended it :)

Kelly said...

This is a place of yes, this can be happy charged place.

And a headboard IS important. I believe in headboards!