safe places.

When I was little and feeling sad or grumpy, one of the things that cheered me up the most was making an indoor cubby house in my room with sheets, blankets and all kinds of furniture. I wouldn't let anyone else in. I'd sit amongst teddy bears and cushions, reading picture books, drawing and having my meals delivered to me, ignoring everything outside of that space I'd created. Absorbed in my own imaginative world.

I think we all need a safe place to call our own. A bed for example. After late nights out or a bad day, there is absolutely nothing more cozy and inviting. I like to think of bedrooms themselves as ones secluded haven where you can surround yourself with expressions of who you are.

Blue skies are coming

The past few months or so have been hard, in terms of where my head space is at. I've experienced, among other things, some intense self doubt, lack of energy and blockages of creativity, thanks to the soul-sucking powers of depression. It's now as if I'm a baby all over again, taking little steps, slowly but surely getting myself out of this rut and trying to see the world with fresh eyes. I want so much to really live. Take on challenges, make mistakes, take things less seriously...

I'm going to be better than fine.