The Art of Mirriam Neal

//a pad of her own

IMG_1590

My mom has always said that my room is the one place I never have trouble keeping clean. It’s part of a mindset that I haven’t quite learned to share with the rest of the house – that this place is mine. It’s special. It’s where I live, and therefore I keep it in a state that makes my heart happy and spirit light. I love my room. It’s large, for one thing – plenty of room for my books, plenty of wall space to decorate. For another, the windows let in beautiful light and, at the moment, a soft, cooling autumn breeze. When I’m in my room, my subconscious goes, “Love what you’ve done with the place.” I enjoy working and relaxing and spending time here. There’s an art student, named Pepper, who I’ve been friends with since I was fourteen, who suggested we trade blog posts about our spaces. Since I’ve been dying for a look into her digs, I thought it was a great idea. So, are you ready for a tour of my corner of the world? Follow me.

IMG_1573

IMG_1574

I had to show off my rabbit doorstop and my custom-designed Winter Soldier purse.

IMG_1575

IMG_1576

IMG_1577

IMG_1591

IMG_1578

This is the mirror my mom had in college. It used to be gold, but we gave it a re-vamp.

IMG_1597IMG_1586

IMG_1587

IMG_1579

IMG_1570

IMG_1593IMG_1598IMG_1580IMG_1581IMG_1596

IMG_0618

This poster is from my dad’s school days. He still sings songs from Carnival, and seeing the play is on my bucket list.

IMG_1601

IMG_1602

IMG_1603

IMG_1582

Coming into my room, these greet you – a flying pig, because anything is possible, and an Irish greeting that means ‘God to you.’

IMG_1589

On the way out, you can pick your own Shakespearean insult, and let an elephant in a bowler hat tell you ‘your day will go the way the corners of your mouth turn.’

IMG_1583

This is my room, and I love it. You lumpish hedge-born hugger-mugger.

Share this post

Share on facebook
Share on google
Share on twitter
Share on linkedin
Share on pinterest
Share on print
Share on email