Five months ago, in the beginnings of a heat wave in New York when the skyscrapers felt more oppressive than usual because they blocked the breeze, I moved into my apartment. A girl from Facebook delivered the bed frame I bought off her. I built it that day, proud of myself despite the number of times I had to call her and ask, “Sorry, where did you say that screw goes?” The super installed my AC a few days later and I hung up a throw blanket I made in fifth grade as a makeshift curtain, praying that the thumbtacks wouldn’t fall out while I slept.
I was busy with my internship and trying to keep up with the blog. Most nights and weekends you’d find me tinkering with ingredients, pouring them into my whirring KitchenAid, then recording measurements in my little black notebook. Other things (like curtains) didn’t seem like such priorities at the time.
After my cousin got married and things settled back to normal (read: no more basing my schedule around the seamstress), I was ready to make my room feel more like home. It still took a while, purely because I’m picky. Or, in nicer words, I could envision it and needed to figure out how to get there. I tested out different ingredients, played with ratios, made tweaks until I was happy with the result.
Creating my space sounds suspiciously like the process I went through to perfect my babka recipe. Thank God I didn’t need 10 tries to get my room right.
You can’t argue with the comfort you feel when you bite into a freshly baked slice of babka, but I can’t always turn to that gooey piece. Instead, I’m arguing the same for a bedroom. It’s a haven, a place where you can be uninhibitedly yourself. Where you’re free to think, wonder, dream. Sliding the book I’m currently reading into its spot on the shelf, I looked around at my work. Everything has its place. Artwork I’ve made or collected hang on the walls, cookbooks have a shelf of their own, my food styling props wait patiently on their cart until shooting day. (Fun fact: I take photos next to the bed. Right where the rug is.) That night I slept peacefully. Woke up happy. I think it has something to do with the color scheme I chose, not to mention the curtains blocking the streetlamp right outside.
While bringing my space to life, I’m thinking about my next move. Spending so much time on my bedroom turned out to be an advantage. Although I was looking for the ideal vibe I wanted to craft, I discovered much more about myself. Big dreams come easily to me. Turning them into reality, not as much. I’m trying to balance passion with practicality. It may take some time before I have the answers, even though I’d rather know now.
Until then, I’ll be playing in the kitchen. Delicious things are yet to come.