Decorating Sense

I found myself flipping through IKEA catalog and watching Trading Spaces again. I know, I am a big dork. I love that stuff! Cushioned swivel chair, or Spanish blue tiles, or elaborate carvings on the window frame, or glass pendulant lamps, they are exciting. I literarilly think my brain receives extra stimulus from color, shape, texture and patterns. I would totally love a movie (ex Hero) just because the visual or aural effects were amazing. Once I took a psych analysis, I am an abstract holistic person, meaning I have strong preferences for symbols over prose, theories over experience, top-down hiearchy over chronicle sequence. That also explains why my thoughts are all over the place, and I may have random responses to your questions and I don’t follow you exactly sometimes because some bizarre interpretation formed in my head. I think most of my friends would testify to that.

I would’ve went to to study interior design I think, if it weren’t for my dad’s ultimatum, “I ain’t paying tuition for you to play with paintbrushes!” So I am stuck with biochemistry. I guess I have to reconcile with DNA and proteins, which to my small comfort also have form, mass and shape, and occassionaly colors depending how expensive the book is.

There are very few outlets for creativity. My room at home is off the limit, so I have put much effort into my dorm room. I must’ve rearranged the furnitures ten times in the tiny cubicle of mine back in Kennedy Hall. I was very pround of the Tuscan iron magazine holder and the simplistic picture of daisies I digged out of a fundraising sale at that art studio on St. Stephens Street. Most people seemed to also like the work I have done with the old poster of a rose and four pieces of foam board. Most people, that is, except my mother, who thought it looked hideously bright. She thinks bright colors in the bedroom disturbs sleeping. I still went on with my little decorating sense. Ann laughed at my idea of tucking the drawer between the wall and the bed, but I did get more space, enough for the armchair.

I know I am going to be obssessed whenever and however I get a mansion of my own, where I don’t have to worry about getting billed for nailing things into the wall, or the heater baking my three succulent plants to death in the winter.