I convinced my mom to give me an old chair. Not just any chair. This was the chair that I remember watching my mom sit in every single morning as she did her hair and make-up. Memories. Good memories.
And the desk . . . well, that was a gift from a very sweet friend. I saw it in her garage one day and asked what she was going to do with it. Next thing I knew, it was mine. Bless her.
I got to work. I wanted my own little space and this is what I came up with. I'm so excited about it. I love that it's a little funky, but it works. I have dreams of an eventual chaise lounger to the left, but all things in time, right?
One last thought: if I can do this, believe me, you can, too. I was always afraid to try things, to create--fear of failure, I guess, or the realization that things don't usually turn out as I envision them. It's not quite as scary when things are old or free. But, there's something awesome about discovering what speaks to you and going with it. My hang-ups stemmed from thinking I had to do things how my mother did them. Not true (and I don't have the budget for that). Just create. See how it feels.