About 2 months ago, I moved back to my college town while I work on my Masters degree and into a sweet little apartment with a crazy, beautiful roommate who always makes us dinner. It's been great. And fun. And confusing. And stressful. And wonderful. And precious. And crazy. And perfect.
By perfect I mean predictable. I'm 20 years old (for 3 more months). I have my freshly-printed undergrad degree in my left hand. I have my psycho, regal King Charles puppy Ember under my left arm. I have crazy, dark-rooted hair thrown atop my head. I can't seem to stop wearing yoga pants (even though tomorrow is always the day I am going to wear a dress). I drink way too much coffee, pretty positive I'm addicted and I don't care (I complain about barely making rent, but somehow can manage to maintain my Starbucks gold card). I am a whirlwind of emotion and social activities and creative collaborations in my city and yoga classes and deadlines and making paper airplanes out of my electricity bills and so, so, so much relentless passion for justice in my heart, which beats under my socially unacceptable flat chest.
Predictable. The picture is quite how one would imaging a 20 year old entrepreneur/artist/student: real and messy and beautiful and terrible and stable in one solidified fact alone -- that absolutely nothing else in the life of a 20-something is solidified.
There is so much about my fate that I cannot control, but other things do fall under the jurisdiction. I can decide how I spend my time, whom I interact with, whom I share my body and life and money and energy with. I can select what I can read and eat and study. I can choose how I'm going to regard unfortunate circumstances in my life-whether I will see them as curses or opportunities. I can choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. I can choose my thoughts. And I will not -- in this whirlwind 20-something season -- allow those decisions and choices to be stolen away from me. Design the life you want to live and then create it.
The last two months while I was moving into this white, pretty apartment -- decorating it and making it a home to reflect who I am and how I want my guests to feel -- I've felt like Holly Golightly (and Ember like Cat) in Breakfast at Tiffany's. To better understand what I mean, enjoy this clip on behalf of this Audrey Hepburn soul and the requested photos of how I designed my own space.
Most of the pieces in my living room are from Target -- including this genuine marble side table (which is one of my favorite pieces in the room).
Records pictured here: Daughter, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong and Sleeping At Last's Atlas project. (I get most of my records off Amazon -- super easy).
My gold room divider is my absolute favorite, favorite piece in the room. Ever since I was little I thought they were so classy and when I saw this one I knew it had to be a part of my home. (I may or may not say good morning to it when I wake up.)