When I moved back home, I resisted the urge to redecorate my childhood bedroom. You’re not going to be here long, I told myself. it’s not worth the effort.
Except, my health kind of got all screwy & I ended up staying longer than I ever thought I would, but my bedroom still stayed the same. some kind of cross of a facsimile of how it was when I was growing up & the empty sterility of a cheap hotel room.
It got old really quick, especially for someone who nests like it’s a second nature. My homes have always been decorated to the point of near insanity. I veer to the busy & complex, mixed prints & patterns held together by the most tenuous connections.
The blank white walls and fluorescent lighting was killing me slowly.
& then I found out I had injured my hip & would be spending most of my summer on bed rest. & after surgery in late august, I’d be spending even more time in bed, alone.
Something had to be done about my room.
So I tore everything apart. I rearranged the furniture & turned an old closet into a bed nook. I lined it with faux leather contact paper & created a canopy with tension rods & an old bed sheet. I found two small bookshelves that fit into the closet & turned them into bedside tables. I started hanging things above my bed. More of my tacky gold decor stuff, pictures I like, dreamcatchers.
The pictures above were taken less than two months apart. It’s a constant evolution, it’ll never be finished, there will always be a new layer to add, something that needs to be moved just a little to make the space flow better.
My next project is to add a long fringe to the canopy, and maybe string up some fairy lights.