Making Home

Last year and this past year too, I've found myself getting closer and closer to the point of wanting, nay, needing, to create my own space.

When I was a young child (birth - most of second grade), that space was my room, the smallest of the bedrooms in my house. The spring of his senior year, my brother tore his ACL playing frisbee (my family tends to get injured in stupid ways) and could no longer use the bunk bed in his room. So we half switched rooms until he moved out, when I got his room for good. The bunk bed got put away and I got my old bed. The walls were repainted and a wallpaper border was put up by my mom.

But the room didn't change very much since I was 8. My mom and I have talked about redecorating now and then, but at this point it seems silly; once I graduate the room will be turned into an office or guest room.

Last year, I had a lot of fun decorating my side of my room, taping a series of travel, scenic and family photos all over the off-white cinder block wall. This year I did a similar thing with postcards; it was harder to stick stuff to red brick but not impossible. My brother gave me a wall hanging he got in Mozambique, and I've also been putting up stuff I draw/color at the clinic. It brightens up the room a lot, but it's sad to think that in a few months I'll have to take everything down again and repeat the process next year and senior year.