In My Room...

Do you remember when you only had 1 room to call your own?  I think about that often, remembering how rooted I was to that one room.  As a lover of alone time, shutting the door, opening the window, turning on music and lighting candles was a nightly ritual of mine.  It didn't matter what was going on in other parts of the house, my little space was buzzing with cozy creativity.  I remember having hippy beads hanging from floor to ceiling in my closet, lava lamps, a bulletin board filled with super models, concert tickets and pics of my best friend and I.  I burned incense, dreamed of having my own place and wrote in my journal.
I miss that.

I remember more then a decade ago living in a 2 story home with my first husband and feeling so disconnected but yet there was an electricity flowing through me.  In this home we had a guest room that had a tiny door that led to the attic.  Being the child that I was at that time, I moved into the guest room with plans of filling the attic with rugs, pillows and candles.  I didn't stay long enough to do that.   Very few should be married at 21.

Gaining my freedom back at the ripe old age of 22, I slowly regained my private retreat mentality with an apartment that had the coolest loft.  I used to play music, lay on the floor and pin pretty pictures to the wall in that loft.  I guess that was my version of pinterest at the time.  I remember the sound of the rain in that roof was particularly alluring up there.

Of course, being the gullible romantic that I was, I had to ruin it by marrying a sociopathic blob that nearly stole my soul with his inability to see anything beyond his own nose.  I always say, chemistry is totally random-you could have chemistry with a serial killer.  Luckily, once the smoke cleared (or chemistry ran out and I regained sanity) I was left with 2 perfect little girls, 2 1/2 acres of magic and no sociopathic blob in sight.

I am absolutely rooted to my home.  In fact, I could live here forever.  When I bought this house almost 7 years ago, I knew this land could sustain me for a long time but sharing this home with another adult made me feel like a bit of a vagabond.  I couldn't claim my bedroom because it was always occupied at night.  I found it hard to really settle in in the living room because there was no door I could shut.  Now that I'm the only adult in this home, the candles, wine and tunes are limitless!  Why did it take me this long to figure this one out?

So without further ado-I have turned off the TV, turned on The Doors and poured a glass of red wine.  I have my Winston snuggled almost underneath me and 3 sleepy kitties having their first Jim Morrison moment.  Take it all in kitties-it's a lot.

"Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain, and all the children are insane-Waiting for the summer rain." Jim Morrison is once again alive singing of the end and riding the snake-lol.

Here's to many more nights of taking back my lost fairy tale.  Whether the inspiration flows or not, I hope I will continue the ritual of opening myself up to creativity.  I hope I can get back to that innocent, hopeful and wide eyed teenager who was high on life and believed in humanity.  She's in here somewhere...