Before winter took hold

on shaping my own space

my bedroom window

I took the time to take more care of my space. Over several weeks an accumulation of errands, showers, laundry, papers, happenings had moulded my room into a quiet mess. I took the time to clean my bathroom and iron my sheets, arrange my assortment of pants and t-shirts and took a long shower. I’ve always thought of organizing and cleaning as a chore to be done after everything else as an afterthought - when things get too messy or the clothes pile up. Perhaps its the rush from one thing to the next - and the way my room feels recedes into the background of work and friends and the life outside my room. In a sense, it’s an item in the backlog to be addressed at a later date. Yet, this space that I occupy has always been one that I can shape in my own way. And this little world that I occupy is filled with my books and written notes with my own taste and sensibilities and keep becoming deeply personal.

I want it to feel like a space that I admire and cherish and want to come home to. I want to fill it with love and tenderness as a deposit for when I’m lacking. I want the space to feel warm and hug me and a space I can rest deeply and wake up rejuvinated. I want to fill it with memory and hope.