A Room With a Couch

Drawing is not my forte, so ignore the messed up perspective.

Yesterday, after church, I spent some time wandering around Lancaster in a (somewhat) desperate search for a place... I stopped in some of my regular haunts, but none of them had what I was looking for. After one-and-a-half hours of futile searching, I returned home, still antsy and restless to find the room that existed in my imagination. Because I couldn't find my room in the real world, I decided to draw it. I got out my crayons (yes, crayons), and started sketching out my cozy nest. Afterward, I wrote this description in my journal:

"In my mind, there is a perfect, cozy room. It has a giant, cozy fireplace: big enough that you could cook a pot of stew in it. A stone fireplace would be best, but wood or brick would be fine as long as it's huge. On the mantle, there is a lovely painting or framed photograph, preferably something with bright, happy colors. Around the room, there are round wooden tables that hold lamps and photos and books. The hardwood floors are scarred by years of boot heels and are covered by hand woven rag rugs. Several bookshelves, full of everything from Shakespeare to C.S. Lewis to Ina Garten, line one dark purple wall. Yes, dark purple. Maybe with hardwood wainscoting.

"The most important part, though, the detail that would make or break this room, is the couch. The chairs could be straight-backed wooden affairs for all I care, but the couch (or, even better, couches!) are hugely overstuffed... so large that a person could disappear completely if she curled up in the corner with a good book.

"My room has a feeling of peace and comfort. Whenever someone enters the house it's in, he or she is immediately drawn to the comfort of this room. Music, conversation, and crackling fires are the only sounds that break the silence. One day, this room will be mine."

One day...