The first of September felt like a new month ought to feel. I sensed a renewal when I rose from bed, I moved around the house with a different air, and I knew, from having reflected in my bedroom in the days before, that something had to be done. My room had began to feel stuffy, like it was storing all of my spring and summer memories when I was suddenly ready to leave those behind. It’s the week I finally begin my new school, after all. I began with my bedroom wall:
My wall is a collection I started years ago, and I’ve added and taken away from it, but it was beginning to feel stale. I was too used to it. There were leftovers from a bad winter three years ago when I only listened to the Beatles, and my brother bought me an Abbey Road poster, an Australian flag, and a Lykke Li poster that he had stolen for me. There were postcards and mementos from old holidays, and a bad photo of me and my friend Claire dressed up, 1940s-style. I love all these things and more, but I needed a fresh wall to reflect the seasonal change (and my change).
Panic attack!!! But seriously, I felt like my whole life could fit on my bed:
I suppose I started my wall out of comfort, and taking it down was a bit like abandoning a safety blanket. It’s been there for such a long time, and my bedroom is such an Eden for me that any change at all can be disconcerting. But I completely deconstructed it, and peeling off those symbols of different parts of my personality and life felt cleansing.
Now it is a work in progress. My Bruce poster was the first to go up again, obviously, as well as various postcards from visits to galleries, plus Mo Farah, who was my hero after the Olympics. But I also have room for it to grow all over again. September feels fresher than the new year. ♦