I love looking at people’s rooms and apartments. It’s as if I’m looking through a window into their soul. Creatives with their plants and paints and instruments scattered around the room with mismatched rugs and odd pieces of furniture. Minimalists with their calm colour schemes and simple furniture layouts. Big families with their cozy disorganized living rooms that smell of home. Travellers with their treasures collected from around the world. Each home whispers of the heart and mind of the person who made it more than just a collection of walls and windows. Being welcomed into a home is like being allowed to explore the spirit of the friend who invited you and I absolutely love it.
This evening, I walked into Will’s tiny New York apartment and fell just a little bit more in love with him.
His home is a comfortable room on the second floor of a very large shared house. The first word that comes to mind when you first walk in is, “peaceful.” Everything is organized, but comfortably so. Each belonging has its place, but nothing is picture perfect. It’s a room of oddities. A typewriter sits on his desk, a record player on the dresser. I laugh because you’d think he was a hipster, but he’s not. A collector of interesting things, maybe. A small rock collection is set up against the wall, organized and carefully labeled. On one shelf, a treasure trove of strange objects is set up. Two robots, one strange piece of metal with legs and gears and a propellor for a head, a tiny mechanical music box, an awkward sock puppet with a large green button and a small blue one for eyes, an hourglass, a tiny wooden mushroom, a portable Pac-Man machine, a blue bottle full of small love notes from me, and more. The walls are covered in sketches and diagrams. Steampunk goggles hang from the lamp. Chests of books are set against the walls, and a lava lamp sluggishly boils in the corner. On his desk is a drawing I sent him when I was 15 and a photo of us at 14 and 15 on the beach in Cape Cod.
This is the first time that I’ve been here since he moved in. I know Will better than I’ve ever known anyone. Even so, sometimes I get glimpses into who he is that I didn’t see coming. His home is a beautiful reminder of his creativity, strangeness, and the way that he goes about everything with such organized intention.
Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure that my room says: the chick who lives here hasn’t figured out how to get her life together yet. ;)