On her Facebook page, Connie Schultz recently asked her readers to tell about their favorite rooms.
And I wondered about my answer.
And I cannot remotely decide on just one. I don’t have a FAVORITE favorite room, but I treasure happy memories in myriad rooms:
- My current studio, a space I craved for years. It is a representation of all I’ve achieved and gained in the last few years: a house, the love of my life, a side business that fulfills me.
- My childhood bedroom, with the Pepto Bismol pink walls and the twin size bed, covered with a mint green comforter and a blanket of stuffed animals. The tree outside the window cast a shadow like a scary Kermit the Frog, trying to sneak in and get me. My first memories of reading are on the floor in that room. Once when it was especially filthy, Dad took everything on the floor and transported it to the front yard.
- The playhouse Dad built in our Ohio home, a secret fortress but entirely within eyesight of watchful parents. I loved that place as a child, and as a high schooler. Swinging reminded me, even as a teen, that I never wanted to lose my childhood wonder, which has evolved into an adulthood curiosity.
- Nani and Papa’s kitchen, where we played countless games of Scrabble, a game that was recently lost to me. Breakfast was Papa Fred’s toast and Quaker Peaches & Cream instant oatmeal; the scent is so steeped in memory, it makes me cry. Dinner was Nani’s spaghetti sauce, so good I could drink it with a straw. I was the littlest cousin, but I ate the biggest portions.
- My best friend’s parents’ living room, where we slumber partied, took completely ridiculous photos of ourselves (see delightful photo), watched dirty movies on mute at 2 a.m. and convinced ourselves everyone heard us, even though the volume was one level above “mute.”
- My current studio, a representation of all I have achieved and gained in the last few years: a home, a love-of-my-life, a fulfilling side business.
Do you have a favorite space or room? I’d love to hear about it.