A Craft Room of One's Own...

For as long as I can remember, I've dreamed of having a room of my own. Even when I was still living with my parents and technically had my own room, I still nurtured a fantasy dream room in my heart. Back then, the primary features of My Room were a loft with a big cushiony bed and various hidden doors, secret compartments, tunnels leading to other various sub-rooms, and all sorts of very mysterious and intricate designs. Since then, my tastes have evolved and become (somewhat) more practical, though the loft idea does still drift in and out of the picture depending on my mood.

These days, the room I lust after is part craft room, part lounge, part sanctuary. A room that's neither too big or small, but it's just the right size to fit all my things into and close the door. Somewhere I can leave projects out and make a mess without feeling the need to clean it up right away and organize everything just the way I want to. Along one wall would be big square-shaped shelves stacked nearly to the ceiling. These shelves would hold bins of yarn (organized by color, fiber, and texture, of course), my favorite books, and all my various Special Trinkets, of which I have collected many. My desk would be in front of the windows, which would be curtained in beautiful fabric sheer enough to let in sunlight, but opaque enough to provide privacy. It would be a big, long desk with my laptop at one end and the rest completely clear for whatever project I happen to be working on.

Against another wall would be a comfy love-seat couch with fold-out bed. Big stuffed pillows. A side table. Lots and lots of warm, glowy lamps because I'm very particular about my lighting and loathe overhead lights. Bright, patterned sheets of colored paper or simple tapestries of hemmed fabric would decorate the wall behind the couch. Everywhere the colors would be cinnamony-orange, burgundy, and steel blue. Accents of moss green here and there at the edges. All the furniture would be mostly blonde wood with some stainless steel for that bit of edge. A handknit blanket over the back of the sofa, and a cozy, broken-in sweater over the back of the chair. A warm, squishy rug on the floor. The light is always autumn and somehow it's always warm enough for bare feet, but cool enough to settle down with a sweater or scarf around my shoulders.

Oh, it all sounds almost too cozy and lovely to be true. I dream of this room and dream of sitting at the desk, lying on the carpet, napping on the sofa, running my finger along the spines of the books on the shelf. It's funny that I've never really thought in terms of a whole house or an apartment--it's always just been this one room. But a house would be too large for little me; a room fits me just fine.

What's your fantasy hide-away?!