Holy Mother of Mad Eye
It's a quiet, sunny, Sunday. I'm a little bit bored, but not in the worst sense, but rather a pleasant kind of much needed bored. Of course, I get to Googling and meandering through a coffee soaked internet, and I find the coolest children's bedroom ever. Now were not big on themed anything, but this job here was a full on Oscar winner for set design. Wow.
Have you ever seen anything so pro? Whoever tackled this space wasn't one to scrimp and cut corners. This room rocks. I'd sleep in the damn thing! Which got me to thinking, if we're in charge of our own spaces, and they so much about us, or affect our moods so heavily, or inspire us, or bum us out, why on earth do we mostly just kind of limp on through that endeavor? Why do we allow The Brick or Leons to be the dictators of our environs? In that light, it's stupid.
Thank God The Brick has never had an ounce of influence in my home.
Now if you'll excuse me I need to go make my bedroom cool. I wonder where I can buy owl cages?