I have a theory. On interior decorating.
My theory is that you decorate your personal space the way the inside of your head looks.
Let’s take for example, my apartment. My flatmate is very organized and responsible. She is a self-described fan of modern, minimalist design. Nothing on the walls, nothing on the floors.
My bedroom might indicate that I have a different state of mind.
My bI’m not so much into the “neat and organized” thing. My bedroom is like a holy shrine to me, of lush comfort and offbeat design. I have nailed my worn-out shoes to the wall. To the wall. “It’s art!” I am quick to defend. Along with the framed page from a childhood storybook and completed puzzle of Times Square. Along with a fan a friend brought back from her travels in Spain, discarded dog collars, and my “collection” of found keys. Along with the collage of pamphlets, business cards, and tickets decorating my closet door like a scrapbook of places I’ve visited and loved, a living “Yelp” page.
Not to mention the big red curtain that blocks out almost all light (making it possible for me to sleep). Dark and soft and dramatic. Hmm…
Maybe the inside of my mind is a place of chaos. As is my bedroom. But I am comfortable there, both in my mind and in my lovely bedroom. A head-space for a head-case!