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We have probably moved at least once in our lives. We have moved house or flat. And for at least one of them we have a lot of memories. It's often from when we were children and where we had fun. Is it a bedroom or the room where we played? It depends... For me it's both, and that's because I've lived in the same house for about 20 years. I don't remember my bedroom when I was young, but I do remember my parents taking me to choose the wallpaper. Ah, the style of the 90s! I did not really have a choice, but it was not too bad. A light green on the back and little flowers and leaves everywhere. Lots of detail and the feeling of being under a sky full of little flowers. Sure, it's not the kind of wallpaper you'd imagine for a boy in the 90s. But it was quite neutral for me....or so I thought.
I can't remember exactly how old I was at the time, but my parents changed the wallpaper after I left. It wasn't the only decoration on the wall. I had one of my own paintings, a boat.... I don't know where it is now, but it's not a great loss for art. I had other interesting paintings: the church of Auvers-Sur-Oise by Van Gogh, a Cezanne and two paintings by Turner, one of Venice and a seascape which is still one of my favorites. OK, that's not exactly what you'd expect to find in a teenager's bedroom in the 90s. I also had another wall of posters next to my bed. I was not a big fan of anybody, but for a couple of years I had a poster of Michael Jackson. And after that it was illustrations of RPG and heroic fantasy posters inspired by the world of Tolkien etc... That's all I can remember of those walls and I had my "bibus", a small bookcase of 1 meter high, just what I need to put my books, CDs and other things. I had lots of magazines and books all around me. It was always my refuge, my way of seeing the world around me.
The bed, a queen-size bed, was surrounded by a sort of white wardrobe. My father had made modifications to make a shelf just above it to put things on. And I had a very good light for reading, just above me. There were some old "Persian-style" carpets on the floor. And I had a view of the garden, with a terrace shared with the living room. It was very nice to open the French windows on a sunny day. And if books were my best friends, I also had music. First with a radio cassette and many years later with a JVC micro hi-fi system with CD player. And much later, I bought a pair of English speakers to get the best sound I could in such a small bedroom. They didn't survive all my moves 20 years later. I could hear my music at a sufficient volume and I enjoyed it. I sometimes remember what I was reading to a song, because I often read with a whole CD playing in the background. And in my memories there is this special atmosphere, the lights, the shadows of the nights or the days when I was reading and dreaming....I was not writing during this years, sometimes just drawing.
Now, more than 30 years later, I'm sometimes looking for that atmosphere. It's difficult now to find a connection between novels, texts and music. The bedroom is so different, bigger, with someone by my side and some animals around. Everything is different, but I think about the past when I'm not in a good mood to read, looking for this kind of cocoon that I had in my childhood. It was not just a room, or just some furniture and wallpaper. It was a whole thing with, I don't know, ... some good spirits sometimes and bad spirits when I was depressed. But even in the bad times it made me who I am now. It was not a room for writing like it is sometimes now. But it was just my room, and for a life. And I hope you find yours.
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