A Room with a View

Over the years, I’ve had my share of bedrooms. Since my family moved a lot, I would get a new bedroom on average every two years. I remember often going “house hunting” with my mother to new countries we had been assigned, my main concern was always which bedroom was to be mine. There is something to be said about the whole process of looking at stranger’s homes–often while their furniture and personal belongings are still there–and picturing your own life in that space.

Room with a View

My dorm room sophomore year

How do we create our own spaces? How do we create a home? Is it just stuff, or is there something else, something we have to build, out of the four walls?

The picture above is of my university dorm room, the only place I might venture to call a home today. It might not be very visible, but in the windowsill is one of my most important belongings: a pink music box. My grandmother gave it to me when I was eight. Soon after I turned nine, my family told me we were moving again. In a rush to pack up, they didn’t let me attend the last few days of classes, so that I could use those days to pack up instead. In my hurry to help reduce my room into boxes, I let my music box fall from the high shelf in the closet where my mom kept it.

A small piece from the corner where the music box hit the ground broke off. The inside wall, separating the music-mechanism and mirror which held dancing-magnetic ballerinas, broke off too. I was devastated. Another object mangled by the constant moving. Another piece of me, to be left behind.

I managed to fix the box with stick-glue, crudely, as best as my nine-year-old hands could. It still stands today, the glue has turned yellow, the inside wall piece has since gone missing. Only one of the two ballerinas remain. The music box stands where previous rooms have fallen, where other windowsills held it, where other light shone through. The space changes, but the heart doesn’t. And that to me, is home.


  Maroon Caludin wrote @

Nice picture. You’ve arranged things nicely!

Aw, I would hate to always be moving. And your poor music box! Well, at least you still have it. I like sentimental stuff like that. =3

  designhouse9 wrote @

Nice post. Your last two sentences really say it all.

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