10 months ago I left my downtown, brick walled, milled door loft and filled my ’99 Jetta to the brim with suitcases, faux taxidermy, and amber depression glassware for my voyage to the desert. As my heirloom vanity, mid-century chairs, and aluminum bar stools collect dust in a Philadelphia storage facility, I can relay that moving cross country leaves you with little to none attachment to material things. Perhaps this is why it took me nearly a year to fill my Phoenix bedroom, leaving it stark white and empty (though I LOVE a bleached out haven), rejecting the idea that this is “home” for the present moment.
While I may have no attachment to material things, I do have a love for the beautiful things. So with a little help of collected antiques and my favorite pastime, thrifting, I have accepted this present moment and filled this sanctuary with vibrance, pattern, texture, life, and love.
California polaroids line my wall in dollar picture frames.
Isn’t it mandatory to have your boudoir equipped with a leather pillow, humming bird, Isreli wool blanket, and German Shepherd?