“…and while the walls are typically government issue, bland and civic and institutional, almost zealously nondescript, she has domesticated them with a vengeance, turning them into a beckoning tumble of colors and icons and artifacts.”
-Madeleine Blais, “A Room of Her Own”
The first thing people do when they come to my apartment is stare at my refrigerator. They try not to, but their sight slides back over to it as they take in the fridge tarred and feathered in treasures. They might not be treasures to most people, mind you, but I cherish the fading pictures, cut out comics, business cards, tattered fortunes, set lists, works of art, newspaper clippings, receipts from road trips, and ticket stubs from sold out shows like gem stones.
The rest of my apartment doesn’t disappoint either. The first moment I stepped in to my apartment it was rental lust. Built before the Civil War, the 1500 square foot apartment featured hard wood floors that glowed like honey and was adorned with stained glass that melts rays of purple and green against the white walls.
Along with collecting memories, I also collect:
-Anything with honeybees, mushrooms, or butterflies on it
This eclectic mix of collections resulted in 1500 square feet of flora, fauna, feathers, chipped teacups, dusty books, crooked paintings, and yellowed maps, adding an aura of travel lust.