No Place Like Home Part I

There are many well-known phrases to do with home. 'There's no place like home', the line immortalised by Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz; 'Home is where the heart is' or alternatively 'haart is where your home is' (haart is a UK estate agent); according to Ikea, 'Home is the most important place in the world'.

There were two things I wanted to explore when thinking about the home, so I decided to split them up into part I and part II. I have lived in the same city environment my whole life and I wanted to think about what my home is, is it my environment (city, countryside or seaside...), the country I am in, the people around me, or the actual physical house I am living in? This thought brought out so many ideas that I found it impossible to put them into one coherent post (I have always had this problem, I've never been stuck for an idea but often been stuck with how to articulate it, and then I have to leave out a lot of what I have to say...couldn't this be a whole new post in itself? Possibly). So in part II I'm going to write about all that. Now I'm going to focus on the one place which I am sure is 'home' and one of the main things I miss when I leave 'home'. My bedroom. The original idea for the docorating of this room was actually my mother's mine I've had a great time adapting it to fit the room's colour scheme and my own tastes. One wall is a dark red, the other three cream.

(a couple of these photos have already been posted on this blog)

clockwise, from top left: old photo of my bin and one of the three drawers under my desk crammed with STUFF. My wardrobe; I love it more than the clothes inside, it was an ebay bargain. Photo which has already appeared on here of my radio and a wasp, although the wasp is dead and the radio isn't plugged in because it's so fiddly I still keep it on my windowsill (the radio not the wasp). My cork noticeboard which is completely full. What you see here is my calendar which I NEVER use because it always falls off but I think it's quite pretty; it's posters from completely obscure films noir. A corner of a huge wall-hanging from India which takes up one wall. My beloved bed which is wrought-iron and painted white alongside my ballerina pillow, which indicates my secret and lifelong desire to be a ballerina. Floor-level shot of the world under my bed, full of shoes and slippers and ladders; you can also see the little wheels on my bed.

I am still a little surprised by the amount of reds, oranges and browns in my bedroom when they are least favourite colours to wear. But I suppose a grey, navy and black room wouldn't be very welcoming to sleep in. I see these warm colours as comforting. The other side (not literally) of my room is full of softer colours such as pink and purple, and plenty of crystals windchimes and candles as opposed to retro calenders and radios.
Again, clockwise from top left: my bedroom door, accessorised with a wooden hanger and a beautiful top which unfortunately looks terrible off the hanger and therefore is used for decorative purposes. The little alcove, which houses these cushions and also a huge pile of clothes etc which were cleared away for this photo, is that cheating? Photo I didn't post from a set I took of the dead wasp (RIP) hanging on a crystal which hangs from my window; I love the way it catches the light. A random chain of colourful birds which I think I got ages ago on holiday, because I loved the materials. A painting (is it a painting?) which although a little bit silly has a lot of sentimental value, hanging above my uncontrollably messy bookcase. a dreamcatcher/windchime from the days when the incense stalls at Camden Market were my favourite hang-out, and I had bad dreams which needed catching.

Maybe this is home?

PS I have to again ask you to please excuse the terrible quality of the photos; after temporarily upgrading from the awful point-and-click, I am now left with 3.2 megapixel camera phone. Life..