My walls have experienced several paint jobs throughout my lifetime, each representing a different era. It started out purple. I loved Scooby Doo and had bedsheets to prove it. Then it switched to teal and lime green, a horrendous color combination that makes me physically ill today. A bedspread that matched the teal with white spiral detailing. A bedazzled, lime green rectangular lamp sat front and center on my nightstand. I also had a bulky fish tank at the time.
Moving into my teens, I painted my walls gray. Everything in my room was either black or gray. Gray walls and bedding, black furniture. There was no life in that room, it seemed cold. Just a few years ago, I repainted my room beige. My room transitioned from cold gray to sad beige.
Recently, I have started to bring color back into my room. I have a blush quilt and a sage green blanket on my bed. Prints from a local artist form a gallery on one of my walls. A painting of Ambrose Hall rests atop my distressed, coastal dresser. A light blue oriental rug sits at the base of it all. Nine or ten plants complete the nest.
My ever evolving bedroom is bound to change again in the upcoming years. I’m thinking the future is pink with disco balls, but for now, it’s earth tones and plants.